And then Liam’s hands are on my face again as he kisses me. I meet him halfway, sinking into him, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until there’s not an inch of space left between us.
When his hands find the waistband of my jeans, he pauses, pulling back just enough to search my eyes. I nod, my throat too tight to speak. His fingers make quick work of the button and zipper, pushing the denim down my hips. I shimmy out of them, kicking them off as he peels off his own jeans, leaving us stripped down to skin and breath and need.
He lifts me again, carrying me to the bed like I weigh nothing at all, laying me down like I’m something precious. And when he crawls over me, fitting his body against mine, I swear something deep inside me clicks into place. His hands roam my body like he’s afraid he’ll wake up and find me gone. His mouth follows, pressing kisses along my jaw, down my throat, across my collarbone, like he’s worshipping every inch of me.
I arch into him, desperate for more, my nails raking lightly down his back.
When he finally slides inside me, slow and careful, my breath catches. Not from pain. But from how right it feels. Like my body was made for his. Like this was always supposed to happen.
Liam presses his forehead to mine, his breath ragged, his hands framing my face.
“Jesus, Olive,” he whispers. “You feel like home.”
The words shatter me.
I clutch at him, pulling him impossibly closer as he moves inside me slow and deep, every thrust an unspoken promise. I lose myself in him. In the way he says my name like a prayer. In the way his hands tremble against my skin. In the way he holds me like I’m the only thing tethering him to this world.
We move together, messy and real, chasing something bigger than pleasure, something that feels like healing, like belonging, likefinally.
When we fall over the edge together, it’s not violent. It’s coming home.
Afterward, Liam doesn’t pull away. If anything, he pulls me closer, gathering me up against him like he’s afraid if he lets go, I’ll vanish. Our bodies are a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty skin, his heartbeat thundering strong and steady beneath my ear. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to the top of my head, his arms caging me in, and for a moment, I let myself float there. Weightless, safe, his.
But then from somewhere down the hall, Charlie’s voice rings out, bright. “Liam? Olive? You guys here?”
Liam groans, burying his face against my hair. “That woman has a sixth sense about interrupting us.”
I laugh, a low, lazy sound that vibrates against his chest, and then groan in frustration.
“Ugh. We should see what she wants,” I mutter, casting a reluctant glance at the clock on the nightstand. My stomach twists when I see the time. “Crap. And I still need to prep for dinner with Teddy.”
I try to untangle myself, but Liam’s arm tightens, holding me there for just a second longer.
“You good?” he asks, voice low and serious.
I tip my head back, meeting his gaze.
And God, the way he looks at me like I’m the sun finally breaking through the storm clouds nearly undoes me all over again.
“Better than good,” I whisper.
A slow, wicked grin curves across his mouth. “Same.”
Before I can pull away, he brushes his lips over mine. I melt into him instinctively, a groan escaping before I can stop it. He chuckles against my mouth, smug and warm and so damn dangerous.
“No fair,” I whisper, nipping at his bottom lip. “Now I don’t want to get out of this bed.”
“All part of the plan, honey,” he drawls, his hand sliding lazily up my side like he’s tempted to start all over again.
I manage a weak laugh, heart pounding, and finally, finally pull away, though it feels like tearing off a piece of myself.
I grab a shirt from the closet and tug it over my head, shooting him a mock glare as he lounges there, totally nude and gorgeous and smirking like the devil himself.
With a final, longing glance, I duck into the bathroom to clean up, my legs still a little wobbly, my heart still thrumming like it’s learning a new rhythm set to him.
And no matter what the rest of the day brings, I know it now, deep in my bones. Liam Stone isn't just a chapter in my story. He's the whole damn book.
11
