Chapter Fourteen
Olivia
I reach for his hand, then stand. Why not dance under the beautiful, now purple, sky?
For such a perfect afternoon and evening, this seems like the perfect ending, even though I’ve been telling myself it’s just a contract marriage for my benefit.
Liam taps his phone, and we move to a clear section of the enormous terrace. We get into position, our bodies close enough for me to feel his heat, but not quite touching. Somehow the proximity without contact feels especially intimate, like we’re on the precipice of something dangerous and hot.
The sound system starts to play the familiar tune of Gershwin’s “Embraceable You.” No lyrics, but it doesn’t matter because I remember them.
And Liam sings along to the music. His voice is resonant and warm, the words flowing like a seductive spell to make control slip away as we sway to the soft melody. When he croons “irreplaceable you,” I feel as though I’m just that—unique and special in his world.
The ocean breeze ruffles his hair and my fingers curl with a need to run through the silky strands.
His eyes glow in the dying light. Tenderness softens his face as he gazes down at me, the sweet song spilling from his beautiful mouth.
It reaches into my chest, wraps around my heart, forming a protective cocoon.
Somewhere beyond our physical world, I hear more than the lyrics: you’ll always be safe with me, Olivia.
The skin around my eyes prickles. For some inexplicable reason, I want to bury my face in his broad chest and cry, laugh and let go.
Tremors rack my legs. I nearly stumble, but Liam catches me deftly, moving us to the music as though nothing happened. His eyebrows rise a little, asking if everything’s all right. I have to close my eyes, unable to meet the undisguised sweetness in his when ultimately I’m using him for revenge.
So instead, I wrap my arms around him, stopping him before the music ends, and place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, just like he did to me before we started dancing.
I need to stop the moment from becoming too sentimental.
Banter is okay, some light laughter is fine…
but my heart feeling this seismic shift? Unacceptable.
“Liam, it’s time to make the baby,” I whisper shakily.
Heat flares in his gorgeous blue eyes. His cock swells against my belly, and desire shimmers in my veins. The physicality of a little wham-bam should ease the prickling from the intensely emotional moment—and put my mind back on track.
Instead of plundering my mouth, his lips trace its shape, his tongue following. I dig my fingers into his neck and open my mouth to welcome him inside, determined to push him.
But he continues with the leisurely exploration, seeking every hitch in my breath and savoring every little quiver of my muscles. His hot large hands follow the slopes of my back and hips. Ripples of anticipatory pleasure surge along my taut skin.
Why isn’t he ripping my clothes off and just having his way with me? He’s a man—and doesn’t every man want sex, straightforward and uncomplicated? He doesn’t even need to worry about condoms.
Oh wait… I break away from the kiss, gentle as raindrops on my mouth. “Simon should’ve sent you my health disclosure.”
Something like surprise and irritation flickers in Liam’s eyes. “He didn’t, but I trust you.”
Before I can wonder why Simon didn’t follow through on the task to reassure Liam, Liam’s mouth reclaims mine, his tongue plunging inside.
I meet it with mine, our tongues stroking each other.
He kisses me like he plans to steal all the air and my sanity.
My fingers dig into his shoulders. I raise a leg, wrapping it around his hip in a silent urging.
My body presses against him, luring him, just like he cast his spell on me with the Gershwin song.
My arms loop around his neck, pulling him down so our mouths can fuse in an endless kiss that incinerates his control.
I want him to lose it, rip my dress off my body and pound into me with the savagery of a man needing a release.
I want this to be back where it ought to be, with my eyes on the prize.
He tilts and twists, puts an arm behind my knees and lifts me in one smooth motion. I let out a yelp, my heart thundering. My arms tighten around him.
With his free hand, he pushes open the terrace door and climbs the stairs with me in his strong arms, our mouths still fused.
Yes, yes, yes.
Elation floods me as he kicks open a door, carries me through and uses his heel to hook it shut. We land on a soft mattress, his much larger, solid body pinning me to the bed as though he’s afraid I’ll fly away.
No way. You’re mine. I grin with satisfaction as I cradle his erection between my legs. It throbs and jerks against my flesh. Liquid heat pools.
“Rip my dress off,” I order breathlessly.
Laughing, he kisses the edge of the neckline. His tongue licks over the delicate flesh, his breath tickling me. “Be a shame to ruin such a pretty dress.”
What? “I have more.”
“I want to keep it.” He lifts his eyes to look at my face from between my breasts. “Pass it down to our kids so they know what their mom wore to the wedding.”
He’s serious. Before I can decide what to think about that, he lowers the side zipper, the hiss unusually loud in the bedroom. I push the bodice down to help. The faster I’m out of this thing, the faster we can get to the main event.
He curses under his breath. “No bra…?”
“The straps show through the lace finish, and the dress has some support,” I explain, but his glazed eyes have left my face and he isn’t listening.
I glance down. They’re just breasts, nothing special—not too big, not too small, very average.
But he doesn’t even blink before he presses hot kisses all over the soft mounds and nips with his teeth, just hard enough to leave red marks, like an animal marking his territory.
My throat dries at the blatantly proprietary action, especially since I don’t mind it at all. I actually…like it.
He avoids the nipples, but his breath fans over them. Tingling sensations radiate out, coursing through my veins then gathering between my legs, ending in my pulsing clit. A moan wells in my throat. I bite my lip. It takes more than this to get me to make sounds.
He cups one in his large palm and kneads it possessively.
A searing pleasure lances through me and I arch my back, a cry tangled in my throat.
The man’s tongue and teeth are more clever than I could’ve imagined, teasing and sucking and pulling my nipple until my fingers dig into the sheets and my body undulates, wanting more and more, yet craving a release that’ll end the torment.
He lets the nipple go with a soft pop, then wraps his lips around the other one to lavish it with the same carnal attention.
I whimper, my legs spreading wider in a plea.
He pushes the dress downward, past my pelvis.
I lift my hips to help him, then kick the dress all the way down.
He rains kisses from my breastbone to my belly.
“Jesus, Olivia,” he says, his eyes nearly black with need as he looks down at me.
I flush. I picked a white lacy thong that looked particularly fetching this morning. Although I didn’t admit it to myself at the time, I was dressing for him, imagining how his face would flush with desire when he saw me in nothing but the underwear.
And his reaction couldn’t make me happier. His finger slips under the thin strip and touches my hot, dripping core. He groans. “Already so wet.”
“For you,” I whisper, ready to have him glide into me.
Instead, he presses his lips to my slit, sending a jolt of electric bliss along my spine.
“Liam—”
He pushes aside the thong and pulls my pulsing clit into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the swollen flesh. I tunnel my fingers into his hair, gripping hard. My hands shake, and twin desires to push his face down harder and push him away wage a war inside me.
“This isn’t necessary,” I rasp.
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m already wet and ready.”
“I’m not.”
I jerk my head up, glaring at him. I didn’t imagine his erection. But he’s already ripped the thong and started to suck on my clit.