“You’re so responsive.So perfect.I could do this for hours.”
“I’ll die.You’re going to kill me.”
“No, you won’t.”He sucked her clit into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue.“You’re going to come for me again.And again.Until you can’t remember anything but my name.”
He was true to his word.He brought her to the edge and back, over and over, until tears streamed down her face and she sobbed with need.Only then did he grab a condom and slide back up her body, entering her in one smooth thrust.
“Look at me.I want to see your beautiful eyes when you come.”
She forced her eyes open, meeting his intense gaze.He moved slowly, deliberately, each thrust measured to hit exactly where she needed.When he reached between them to touch her clit, her orgasm crashed through her in pulsating waves.
He kissed her through it, swallowing her cries, his own release following moments later.
Later, she straddled him, riding him slow and deep, her breasts bouncing with each movement.His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, and she loved it, loved the evidence of his desire.
“You’re beautiful.”His voice sounded wrecked.“Look at you, taking me so well.Made for me.”
She leaned down, changing the angle, and they both made broken sounds.“Made for each other.”She bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a red mark.
He shuddered hard and then flipped them, driving into her with renewed vigor.“Mine,” he punctuated each thrust.“Mine, mine, mine.”
“Yours.”She grinned wickedly.“And you’re mine.My captive, remember?”
He laughed, breathless.“Always.”
They lost count of how many times they came together that night, exploring every position, every fantasy they’d harbored during their separation.When dawn finally broke through the curtains, their limbs tangled together, both thoroughly debauched and deliriously happy.
“Morning, beautiful.”His voice was rough from sleep and overuse.
“Morning yourself.”She stretched, delicious aches blooming in muscles she’d forgotten she had.Between her thighs, heat swelled and sensitivity lingered, evidence of their night together.
“Sore?”
“Mmm, the best kind.”She traced the scratch marks on his back.“You?”
“Battle scars.I’ll wear them with honor.”
They ordered coffee and pastries from the motel’s continental breakfast service, eating in bed with Liam wearing only his boxer shorts and Sienna wrapped in his dress shirt from the night before.She kept shifting her weight, hyperaware of how the fabric brushed against her sensitive skin.
“I texted Kitto earlier.”She glanced at her phone.“He’s dropping off some clothes for me—jeans and a sweater.Can’t exactly view a house in a ball gown.Not unless we’re buying a castle.”
“Shame.”Liam’s hand slid up her bare thigh under the shirt.“You look good in my clothes.We might need to make that a habit.”
His fingers found her still-wet center, and her breath hitched, immediately ready again despite the soreness.
“We have to meet Henry and Maia,” she protested weakly.
“We have twenty minutes.”He pulled her onto his lap.“I can do a lot in twenty minutes.”
He proved it too, bringing her to a swift, intense orgasm with his fingers alone while she muffled her cries against his shoulder.
When Kitto knocked on the door with her clothes, she answered it on shaky legs, her face flushed and her lips swollen.
“Not one word,” she warned as she took the bag.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”His knowing smirk said everything.“Good luck house hunting.”
Once dressed in her own clothes again—denim snug on her hips, sweater soft and familiar—she steadied herself, though every step reminded her of the night before, a secret thrill that made her press her thighs together.
