His hands flex at his sides, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Wasn’t hot enough,” I whisper, leaning in so my breath kisses the shell of his ear.
I hear the sharp inhale he tries to hide.
“Wasn’t rough enough.”
He turns his head, just barely, his lips brushing against my temple, his restraint a living thing between us.
“Is that so?” he grits out, every word threaded with the threat of breaking.
“Mmmhmm,” I hum, pressing a teasing kiss just under his jawline, feeling him tremble under my mouth.
“And now,” I add, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, “I’m hearing we have two hours to kill.”
I let the words hang there, heavy and electric.
“Plenty of time,” I finish, my smile slow and wicked, “for that cowboy to rock my world properly.”
For half a second, Liam doesn’t move. And then the leash snaps. He surges forward with a growl, hands locking around my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter. The granite bites into the backs of my thighs, cold and sharp, but all I can feel is him. His mouth crashes into mine, hot and demanding, no hesitation this time, no slow buildup.
Just pure,devastating need.
I fist my hands in his shirt, yanking him closer, tugging at the fabric until I feel seams straining under my grip.
Liam pushes between my thighs, fitting there like he was made for it, his body pressing into mine with a force that steals the air from my lungs. His hands roam everywhere at once. Rough palms skating up my sides, tangling in my hair, gripping my hips like he’s trying to brand the memory of me into his skin.
I tug his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me, not caring where it lands. He pulls mine over my head just as fast, his mouth finding the curve of my shoulder, the hollow of my throat, nipping and sucking bruises he’s not even pretending to hide.
My head falls back with a moan, legs tightening around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer.
“Fuck, honey,” he rasps against my skin. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
“You’re the one ruining me,” I gasp, raking my nails down his back hard enough to make him shudder.
His hands find the waistband of my jeans, making quick, fumbling work of them, cursing under his breath when they get stuck halfway down my thighs.
I laugh breathlessly, shoving at them until they’re gone, kicking them off across the kitchen.
We’re a mess of tangled limbs, fevered touches, desperate kisses, like we’ll never get enough, like we’re trying to make up for every second we spent pretending we didn’t want this. Didn’tneedthis.
He yanks his own jeans down just enough to free himself, and then, God, he’s there, thick and hot and so ready against me.
“Last chance to stop me,” he grits out.
I cup his face in both hands, pulling him down until our mouths almost meet.
“Don’t you dare.”
With a growl that vibrates all the way through me, he thrusts inside, burying himself to the hilt in one long, perfect stroke. I cry out, clutching at his shoulders, the sensation too much, too good, too everything.
He swallows the sound with a kiss, moving inside me with a rhythm that's fast, frantic, filthy and perfect, his hands gripping my hips so hard I know I’ll wear his fingerprints tomorrow, and I want them. I want all of it.
Liam’s thrusts are hard, deep, relentless. Each one knocking another broken, gasping sound from my lips. I cling to him, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped tight around his waist, anchoring him to me.
He mutters low curses into my skin, his hands everywhere. Gripping my ass, palming my breasts, yanking me closer, grinding against me in a way that makes my vision blur at the edges.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, his voice so raw it scrapes down my spine, making my body shudder.
