Chapter Sixteen #4
Liam was always impressed by her strength, constantly letting the softness and delicateness of her rounded curves trick his mind into thinking she was far more fragile than she really was. Liam smiled. It probably wouldn’t be the last time he underestimated his woman.
Devon slid hungry hands up over his chest and back down to his belly. Beautifully manicured nails, polished in a dark violet, scraped erotically over his skin, through the hairs over his pectorals, seeking out his sensitive nipples.
He tucked both hands behind his head like a majestic king awaiting service.
Devon gave a low, sultry little sound of humor, making him look at her with suspicion in his eyes because it sounded so devious.
That was when she leaned forward to seek out one of his nipples with the teasing flutter of her tongue.
She switched sides slowly, trailing kisses and sweeps of her tongue over his chest on the way.
Liam’s hands came forward to clasp her thighs, his fingers tensing against her taut flesh.
She sat up and looked down on him with a wicked smile.
“Tell me, will you continue to keep this relationship secret from your subordinates?” she asked, genuinely curious as she reached behind herself to drag her fingernails up and down his thighs, knowing full well that the slight stretch of her shoulders tempted him with the lift of what she was beginning to suspect was a highly favored body part.
His eyes fixated on her breasts as if on cue, his desire plainly set in amber.
“You know, I think I’m in trouble no matter how I answer that question,” he observed distractedly.
“What do you mean?”
“If I say yes, you could be offended, thinking I’m ashamed to be up front about this. And if I say no, you could think I’m flaunting a conquest.”
“Hmm. I never thought about it like that. So which is it, Liam? Conquest or confidential?”
“Neither.” He touched his fingers to the side of his neck. “Between this and the fact that I’m bringing Jackson in to take over, it’s kind of a moot discussion.”
“Liam, I didn’t do that on purpose,” she murmured contritely as she leaned forward to kiss him. “I just … you make me forget myself. You’ve always been able to do that.”
“That sentiment is very much reciprocated,” he said gruffly. “Why do you ask?”
She paused only a beat and then flicked her eyes to his. “Because I recognize that I am rapidly losing control of my ability to be discreet with you. There is a part of me that throws a tantrum and pouts every time I can’t show everyone that you’re mine. Deliciously, manly miner
Liam responded to her gentle, flirtatious kisses but as her busy mouth began to travel down his breastbone to his rigid belly, he seriously began to confess to himself that he’d been having the very same sort of internal tantrums.
He closed his eyes in pleasure as her tongue swept down below his ribs, drifting over every muscle in his stomach with attentive licks and kisses.
He looked down at her, surprised to find his fingers tangled in her dark hair, hands cupping the back of her head.
Every light scrape of her teeth, every exhalation of her breath was torturing him with anticipation and temptation.
Her hands were sitting still on his hips, framing him with her fingers curved gently toward his buttocks.
Her mouth slipped lower, below his navel, and he felt her breath skipping over his tumescent flesh.
“Devon,” he breathed achingly.
He felt the sweep of her hair brushing over his erection and the taut sac below it, and then her kisses fell to his thigh, completely bypassing the area that craved her attention.
Devon suppressed a smile when he groaned in frustration.
She returned her attention to her worship of his smoothly muscled body, loving every contour with her seducing kisses.
She was very aware of her power over a very powerful man, and that it had nothing to do with her superior genes and physical advantage.
He was in her hands, having placed himself there with amazing trust.
Proving her point to herself, she ran her eager hands and nails up along his thighs, both atop and along the insides.
Liam shifted restlessly and he held back sounds of frustration …
or pleas for her to stop teasing him. Devon slid up his thick thighs and looked at the pronounced thrust of his penis, smiling as it twitched in anticipation of her approach.
She pursed her lips and blew a stream of tepid breath across him, watching him in delight as he groaned aloud and brushed anxious fingers through her hair, trying to recapture the head she’d slipped out of his reach as she’d kissed his thighs.
She reached for him with a single extended nail and touched it against his shaft, just below the fat red cap at the tip.
She drew her fingertip down over his hot, veined skin, so incredibly soft, yet so unbelievably hard just beneath that.
Liam hadn’t been bragging when he’d said he was a big man.
Even after so many encounters as lovers, she was still impressed by his length and thickness.
She smiled, her lip slipping eagerly between her teeth as she stroked him all the way to the base of his cock and then lower, right over the malleable sac beneath.
She cupped him there briefly, flicking her fingernails along the back of his balls teasingly until she felt him tighten in her hand and heard him moan out a curse.
Then she took a measure of pity on him and closed her hand fully around his delightfully hard erection.
She had scooted up far enough to be within reach of his hands and one sank tensely into her hair.
“Babe, you’re killing me,” he rasped out, the remark a plea.
But it was her intention to make him the victim of a temporary death.
And like most victims, he wasn’t going to see it coming until it was too late to do anything about it.
She dipped her head to hide her sinister smile and the greed for his pleasure in her eyes.
She stroked him with a feathery grip, there but almost not, fingers stimulating his skin but not the throbbing flesh and nerves beneath.
His hips shifted, seeking stronger contact, and she denied him until he was nearly thrashing with need.
“Oh God, Devon, this is insane,” he groaned. “You’ve proved your point already … just … just …”
“Just what?” she murmured sexily, her smile flashing up at him with all the wickedness of a true temptress.
“Just this?” Her tongue snaked out quickly to lick over the swollen head of his prick, lapping up drops of liquid she’d tortured out of him.
His taste was divine on her tongue, salt and musk and a touch of herself, which she found to be an incredible turn-on.
“Devon!” he half shouted, half groaned, his fingers flexing violently in her hair.
She didn’t wait for him to settle, too impatient to tease and torture him anymore.
She’d had a taste of him and she wanted more.
Her fingers curled firmly around his thick circumference, and she held him against her lips, drawing him slowly over them, back and forth with little slips of her tongue.
She circled her tongue around him, tasting him again as she tempted more from him.
When she pressed her lips against him to form perfect suction, his whole body tensed violently in preparation for the suckling draw of her mouth as she drew him in, at first in short strokes and then longer ones.
Liam was in hell. Or heaven. Or purgatory.
He couldn’t decide. One moment her mouth felt glorious, and desire pulsed through him from head to toe.
The next he was being overwhelmed by the urge to lose himself in delight with no regard for anything else, and he fought the swelling responses of his greedy body.
Then it was blindness, bliss so utterly intense that he felt almost numb with the power of it.
“Devon, baby,” he croaked out, grateful he could still speak.
He tightened his hold around her hair in case she didn’t hear him.
Just then, her artful mouth swirled snugly around him, her tongue flicking the underside of the head, a screaming sensitive spot.
Her hand slid tightly along his length as her mouth retreated, a definite rhythm forming now, one that he lifted his hips into automatically.
“Devon!” he barked out as passionate pleasure surged low along the interior of his body.
“Devon I want to touch you. I want to make you …” Liam gasped as she ignored him and stroked him with hand and mouth working like a beautifully choreographed form of torture.
Suddenly she had him so close it was like feeling himself boiling inside.
“Baby … oh, baby I’m going to come,” he growled out roughly as his entire body tensed in preparation.
She didn’t relent, not for a moment, tightening suction, and stroke, and her flawless rhythm until he could do nothing but feel, and feel, and feel.
The approach of his orgasm was ravaging and hot; the release itself was violent and blissful.
Liam shouted out uninhibitedly, his entire body bucking as Devon delighted in milking him until his outcries told her it was too much to bear a moment longer.
She released him at last and he grabbed for her with awkward fumbling hands.
She smothered a laugh as she accommodated his wishes and slid up his body and into the clutch of his arms. Liam was rasping hard for breath, his hands still tensing tightly now and then, and his body shaking with aftershocks of pleasure.
Feeling content and very proud of herself, she snuggled down against his shoulder, using it as a pillow.
But before Liam even recovered enough to talk, she said, “Tomorrow we’re going to hunt down Ambrose and put an end to this once and for all. I want to go home. I want my family back. I want to live my life again as a free Morphate woman. I want to be Devona Chandler.”
Liam took a very deep breath.
“And I’m going to give you that.”