Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
CASSIDY
Cassidy had never wanted anyone the way she wanted Liam.
She loved the way he looked at her, like she was a gift to be slowly unwrapped. The way he never rushed her or made her feel like she had to be anyone but herself.
She was still learning how to let go. That had always been the hard part.
But she had a feeling Liam wouldn’t mind the work.
She could feel his patience in every glance, every touch, like he already knew that her body needed more, that her mind had to be coaxed. Her senses lit up one by one. He didn’t ask her to switch off the world. He helped her sink into it.
The bedroom was warm and still, faintly scented with cinnamon and chocolate from downstairs. It felt like stepping into a dream she hadn’t let herself hope for.
Liam kissed her again. It was slow and unhurried. Her hands slid beneath his hoodie, beneath his shirt, seeking skin. Heat. The thud of his heart beneath her palms.
More. She wanted more.
She lifted the hoodie over his head, then lifted his shirt, needing him closer. He let her undress him piece by piece, her breath catching as more of him was revealed.
When she reached for the button of his jeans, he stilled.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low and steady.
She nodded, her pulse thudding in her ears. “Trust me. I’ve thought about this… a lot.”
Liam stepped out of his jeans. She shivered. Liam was simply a gorgeous man. Broad shoulders, flat abs, and the outline of his boxer briefs left nothing to the imagination. He looked sinfully delicious, and he was all hers.
He moved through this like he already knew the map of her body. Like he’d memorized every slow turn and detour.
Like he understood she wasn’t going to fall apart easily. That she needed time. Sensation. Safety.
His knees sank into the bed, and she fell back into the pillows.
She loved the feeling of his weight above her.
Her back pressed into the pillows, her body on the soft quilt.
Outside the window, snowflakes drifted past the twinkle lights still framing the glass.
Inside, her bedroom was quiet. The only sound was that of their breathing and the faint creak of the bed beneath them.
She reached up and traced the muscles on his stomach. He kissed her, slow and deep, his hand cupping the side of her face as he braced himself above her. His touch was sure but unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.
And maybe he did. They’d already said the hard things. And now, there was only this. Only them.
He kissed lower, down the column of her throat, then across her collarbone, making her squirm beneath him.
His hand roamed under her oversized Christmas sweater.
It was bright pink with Rudolph and a jingle bell nose, and she absolutely loved it.
He found the hem of her camisole beneath.
He pushed it up slowly, dragging it over her ribs, exposing inches of skin and kissing every one of them.
She tried to sit up, to help undress herself faster, but Liam gently guided her back down.
“Patience,” he said. The word alone made her shiver.
He peeled her sweater off carefully, followed by her camisole.
Her skin was flushed, her breath uneven, and still he moved with infuriating control.
Liam pressed kisses along the curve of her breast, his hand brushing lightly down her side, fingers pausing at the waistband of her candy-cane underwear.
“Still sure?” he asked, voice low and serious.
“If you stop now, I’ll kill you.”
Liam chuckled against her skin.
He tugged her panties down, over her hips, down her legs, slipping her free until she was bare. Then he looked at her, studied her, like he was trying to memorize every inch of her.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Then Liam kissed his way down her body, slowly, until his mouth found the heat between her thighs. She cried out softly, her hands tangling in the quilt, her back arching as his tongue circled her clit, teasing and relentless. When his fingers joined in, she thought she might come apart completely.
But every time she got close, every time she thought that this time would be the first time she’d orgasm with a partner, he pulled back, just enough to keep her right on the edge.
“You’re evil,” she whispered, breathless.
“That’s one word for it,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
Cassidy wasn’t sure what Liam was doing.
One minute he was devouring her, and the next he was standing, offering her his hand.
“Come here,” he whispered, helping her up, guiding her around so she was standing in front of the mirror.
Her heart fluttered as she joined him. She could see herself, fully exposed, Liam close behind her, his gaze locked on her through the mirror.
“I want you to see what I see,” he murmured, his breath hot against her damp skin.
He kissed the back of her neck, slow and purposeful, letting his mouth linger at her pulse. She shivered as his hands slid around her torso, rough palms against soft skin, thumbs grazing the underside of her breasts.
Then he touched her properly, cupping her, kneading gently before rolling her nipples between his fingers. She’d never been touched this way. Never stood still and watched herself be wanted.
Her body arched instinctively into his hands. Liam didn’t rush. He tugged, circled, pinched just enough to send heat zipping straight to her core. His mouth never left her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses across it.
She moaned softly, her eyes locked on their reflection. She barely recognized the woman looking back at her. She was flushed, hungry, wild with want. But she loved the way Liam’s hands moved over her, demanding, controlling.
She loved being at his mercy. Being the object of his desire.
When he was done with her breasts, his hands drifted lower, skimming her belly, then trailing down to the place she needed him most.
In the mirror, she watched as he parted her with achingly slow precision.
One finger slipped inside, followed by the gentle press of his palm against her clit.
Liam’s voice was warm against her ear. “Good girl.”
Nerves shot through her body.
She whimpered, her hips rocking forward without conscious thought.
“You like watching what I’m doing to you?”
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. The only sound was her breath. It was ragged, unsteady, alive.
He added the slightest pressure with his thumb, and her knees nearly gave out.
“Do you like the way it feels?” he asked, fingers curling just right.
She nodded, barely able to whisper. “Yes… God, yes.”
Her knees buckled slightly, and he steadied her with one arm around her waist, never letting her fall. His other hand continued its gentle torment, filling her, circling her, coaxing her body into a rhythm that was uniquely theirs.
She couldn’t look away.
In the mirror, she saw her skin flushed, her mouth parted, her nipples peaked from his earlier attention. And behind her, she saw him. His jaw was tight with restraint, eyes burning into hers.
He was watching her watch herself.
The vulnerability of it sent a shiver down her spine… but also something else. Power. She wasn’t just reacting; she was part of this. He wasn’t performing on her. He was with her, meeting her in this moment.
He kissed the curve of her shoulder, his beard grazing her skin. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured. “Every sound you make. Every time your body moves against mine. You have no idea what it does to me.”
Her breath hitched as his fingers slid out slowly and then back in, pressing deeper this time, curling just enough to make her legs tremble again.
“Liam…” she whispered, her voice full of need.
He drew her even closer, pressing his hips gently into her from behind, letting her feel his arousal, thick and ready, pressed to the curve of her backside. The heat of him, the weight of him… it made her pulse thrum.
“You’re so responsive,” he whispered. “So sensitive. And I want to give you everything. But I need you to stay right here for me… just like this.”
His hand moved faster now, not rushed but with intent. She moaned again, louder this time, as pressure built inside her. Her body chased something just out of reach. Her hands found the edge of the dresser for balance, her palms pressing into the cool wood as her thighs began to shake.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, kissing the back of her neck. “Don’t hold back. I want you to fall apart in my hands first.”
She whimpered, thighs trembling.
“I don’t know how,” she choked out. “It never—”
“Don’t think,” Liam cut in gently, his fingers moving in slow, sure circles. “Just feel.”
His lips brushed her ear. “You’re safe with me. No one’s judging. There’s only this…”
He kissed her shoulder.
“Only me…”
Another kiss.
“… and you…”
He curled his fingers just right, and she gasped.
“… and the way you fall apart when I touch you like this.”
She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, her hips pushing into his hand, eyes fluttering shut, and then forcing herself to open them again.
Because he’d told her to see what he saw.
And what she saw was a woman on the edge of unraveling, adored by the man behind her.
With every stroke of his fingers, every whispered word, he took her higher until she finally came completely undone.
The orgasm ripped through her like a crashing wave, powerful and raw. She cried out, her fingers digging into the wood, her body jerking, breath catching. Every part of her pulsing, shaking, and she wanted to ride that wave as long as possible.
And through it all, he held her steady.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s my girl.”
Her legs nearly gave out again, but he caught her, lifting her carefully into his arms. She buried her face in his neck, still trembling, tears stinging her lashes—not from sadness but from something else. Release. Relief. The overwhelming feeling of being known and wanted, exactly as she was.
He carried her back to the bed, laying her down on the soft quilt. Then, he climbed in beside her, brushing damp hair away from her forehead and kissing her softly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice warm.
She opened her eyes, breathless and still floating. “Like you just rewired my entire nervous system.”
He laughed gently, stroking her cheek. “Good.”
He then added quietly, “You’re everything, Cassidy. Everything.”
She reached for him, heart full and body still humming. “Then come here.”