For a moment we just stare at each other, the air between us crackling.
Then, in a heartbeat, Liam has me pinned against the wall, his body hard and hot against mine, his mouth claiming my lips in a bruising kiss.
Fuck, yes.
My hands are all over him, clutching at his shoulders, his chest, his hair, anything I can reach. I fumble with his shirt, my fingers clumsy with need, managing to open half the buttons through frantic kisses. I need to feel him. Right now.
He growls into my mouth and shoves my dress up to my waist, the fabric bunching around my hips, exposing my lace-clad pussy. Then he’s pushing his hands into my panties, his fingers diving through my wetness, and I’m bucking against him, seeking more, more, more.
I’m so wet. And I want him to feel it. I want to gush all over his hands, for him to feel me throb. I want him to know exactly what he does to me, the bastard.
“Oh god,” I cry into his mouth as his fingers slide inside me.
His sound of approval is visceral. “So wet and I haven’t even started.”
My hand palms over his erection, and then we’re both fumbling with his trouser buttons, our fingers clashing in our haste to get his cock out.
Finally,finally, he manages to shove his pants down. I barely have time to appreciate the sight before he’s lifting me up, his strong hands gripping my thighs as he hoists me against the wall.
I gasp, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, my arms locking around his neck. The position is animalistic and so fucking hot I could spontaneously combust. And we haven’t even made it past the hallway.
His cock slides against my drenched panties.
With a display of strength that makes my insides turn to jelly, he pushes my panties aside with one hand, the other still holding me up against the wall like I weigh nothing.
But then he stills, his brow furrowing. “Shit,” he mutters, and for a moment, I’m afraid he’s come to his senses and realized that fucking his employee against her hallway wall might not be the best idea. “Condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” I blurt out. Oh my god, what am I doing? Am I really about to let Liam McLaren bare-back me? “Are you tested?”
“Yes,” he breathes. “I get regular tests. I’ve only been with one person since I was last tested—you.”
“Okay, good. Me too. I can’t wait any longer.” The words tumble out of my mouth in a breathless rush, my body screaming at me to just let him fuck me already.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and rough. “We don’t have to—”
“Yes,” I cut him off, digging my nails into his shoulders.Just do it before I remember all the reasons why we shouldn’t.
I moan as he starts to push inside me, spreading me wide open, filling me up with his thick girth and claiming me in the most primal way possible in one deep, perfect thrust.
Oh shit. This is really happening. Wearefull on fucking against the wall.
Liam McLaren is buried inside me, his chest pressing hard against mine, our heavy breaths mingling. It’s dirty and hot as hell.
He starts to move, thrusting until my legs are like Jell-O, and if he wasn’t holding me up, I’d be on the floor.
“Fuck, I need this,” he growls, his arousal evident in every pant and grunt. “You’ve had me wound up since we were on that damn boat.”
“That’s just because you’re not used to hearing people say no,” I pant. His dick hits that sweet spot and I can’t hold back. I moan so loudly, I’m sure the whole street knows what’s going on.
His face is flushed, the vein in his neck bulging like it’s about to burst out of his skin. His mouth hangs open, letting out these grunts that sound like they’re being ripped straight from his cock. Every single one of those guttural noises makes my core clench. This is sensory overload.
I can’t cope.
I can’t think.
I can barely breathe.
All I can do is feel.
