She threw her head back on the bed as his tongue swirled.Oh God, I did need this!He administered the sweetest of torments, slow licks that made her doubt her sanity. So good, so good.
He groaned, as if relishing each fresh taste of her juices. Each small sound ratcheted up her lust, driving her closer to pleasure’s pinnacle. Two fingers, then three, slid inside her and he gauged her response. With each small twist of his wrist as he massaged her, she grew wetter and her body seemed to lighten and float. She just needed a pinprick to set her off, and she’d careen into the sky.
“You’re delicious.” He stopped a moment to kiss the inside of her thigh, then suckled her clit.
“Oh, Jesus!” The shrieking voice, as unfamiliar as it seemed, was hers. She came, and Liam continued sucking until he’d wrung the last shudder from her body. Shock and fucking awe.
Even as her legs crumpled and her knees folded inward, he held her open and continued to lap. Her body flailed as new spasms shot through her. When they did subside, she wriggled under him, enjoying the warmth and wetness he’d created. He finally moved from between her legs and sat next to her, smiling wickedly at his handiwork.
“Oh my God. I can’t believe what you did to me,” she said on a breath. “You, of all people.”
The corners of his mouth began to droop. He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand and looked away.
Shit. She sat up, blinking over burning eyes. “I’m sorry, Liam. That came out the wrong way.”
He tucked his still-hard dick back into his jeans and stared at her, his face suffused with a strange mix of hunger and disappointment. For a second, she glimpsed a frightening gleam in his eyes. The embodiment of Bridget’s words: a punisher. A man who held grudges and never forgot. His cold, blue eyes now held a feral glint, and made him appear capable of anything. All traces of congenial Liam disappeared, and only a hard shell seemed to remain.
This angry Liam scared her.
From this man, she expected some sort of retaliation. She could feel her muscles tense in anticipation.
However, as quickly as she spied the fury in his gaze, it disappeared. Those husky eyes softened, becoming more like that of a scorned puppy.
After the longest, most awkward moment of her life, he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He let his fingers graze her in the gentlest of gestures, and considered her face. Under his quiet scrutiny, she sighed, her body wanting to relax into him.
He got up from the bed, reached for her shirt and placed it over her head, feeding her arms through the sleeves as if she were a doll. And she let him dress her. She fucking let him.
He took a step back. “Good-night, Kate.”
As he walked out of her bedroom, she finally rallied herself. “Wait.”
His back was to her, his shoulders rounded and tense. He looked over his shoulder, but not at her. “Make no mistake. I want you, but not like this. Not when you hate yourself for being with me.” He glanced at her. “I’m not a villain, Kate. Once you figure that out, maybe we can talk.”
She didn’t move, and listened as he walked out, closing the door behind him. She stayed frozen to her spot, listening to his fading footsteps on the metal staircase outside until she couldn’t hear them anymore.
And then she tried to devise a way to deliver a swift kick to her own ass.
One hour and a demolished pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream later, Kate stared at the TV, clothed in her favorite terrycloth robe. Normally, sliding into the fluffy garment would elicit a sigh of relief from her. Tonight, the fabric grated. After all, she’d felt Liam’s hands and tongue on her body. Nothing else would ever feel as good. Not silk or expensive lotions. Hell, not even a bath in chocolate sauce.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered. “It was just an emotionless one-night stand that got all fucked up.”
Only her emotions were currently riding at an all-time low. Her emotions felt like dust that had been scattered in the wind.
She’d hurt him.
As if. He’d probably already forgotten her. In fact, he’d probably headed right back to one of his casinos and picked up one of the honeys that no doubt constantly batted their eyes at him. Touching her? That was skill, not passion. It likely meant nothing to him. Playing an instrument, nothing more. This was Liam Doyle, after all. What had she expected? Pledges of love and romance?
Perhaps not, but she’d been up for a good, solid hammering, something she hadn’t had in a while.
Someone on the TV spoke and she looked up. She grimaced at the eHarmony commercial, as if it had been put up just to taunt her.
“Shit.” She dropped her spoon in the empty tub. “Shit, shit, shit.”
She’d had Liam, a veritable sex god, disrobing her in her apartment and she’d messed it up. A jury of horny women would surely hang her for such an offense.
And she’d insulted him, all because of her stupid values. Last time she checked, values didn’t keep her warm at night. Values didn’t snuggle on the couch with her. Values didn’t want to fuck her into next week, but Liam had offered. She knew he would have delivered too. The miserable voice inside her head told her she’d lost out on the best night of her life.
The worst part was knowing she’d wounded him. All he’d wanted was a bit of solace at a bad moment in his life, and she’d managed to rub salt in his wounds and make him feel like a worm. She didn’t think she could hate herself more, and didn’t understand why it should bother her so much.
