His chest rises and falls with laboured breaths as he seems to try but fails to collect himself.
We stay exactly as we are, basking in our intimacy.
I’m not sure how long we hold each other, but after our breaths begin to even out slightly, the sound of a distant door closing startles Liam into movement, him growling this time as he cradles my back and walks us down the corridor, heading for his room.
‘I thought you didn’t care if someone saw us?’ I ask, pulling his mask back to reveal his flushed face.
‘No one is seeing you like this apart from me,’ his voice is low and threatening.
Chapter twenty-eight
Isla
Arumbling so loud jolts me awake. It sounds like the building is falling down around me. Even my body is shaking with the force of the shifting surface I am lying on.
Only nothing's falling down, and the surface I am in fact lying on belongs to a mass of muscle. And the rumbling? It’s his fucking snorting.
God, this man sounds like he's summoning the dead with the amount of racket he’s making.
Liam is lying like Sleeping Beauty, his features soft and relaxed as he rests. He almost looks peaceful until he takes another deep breath in and suctions all the air in the room like a fucking Henry Hoover.
For fucks sake. What’s a girl got to do to get some rest whilst sharing a bed with a steam train. Because if the inhale sound wasn’t bad enough, he just had to top it off with a whistling exhale.
Lucky for him, it's morning, the outside light peeping beneath the curtains. It's not the alarm clock I would have preferred, but I can’t help but silently chuckle at how ridiculous he sounds.
Last night he’d snuck up on me, then pleasured me senseless all whilst wearing his skull mask and his knuckles still bloodied. I should feel embarrassed, maybe even a little ashamed, but fuck that. I’m finally getting what I want in life and to hell with any thoughts that sour that.
Another steam train exhale nearly shatters my eardrums, so I take a shaking hand up to the father of my child's face, biting my lips so as not to make a sound. And just as Liam readies himself for another monstrous inhale I pinch his nose and slam his gaping jaw shut.
It looks bad, I know. It’s not what every man wants to see the woman he spent the night with doing the next morning. Some might even claim it's psychopathic, but I think it's fucking hilarious. Plus, he's the one who inconvenienced me with all this racket. The least I can do is return the favour.
He tries his hardest to breathe, and if I were a saner person I’d feel bad for him. But the sight only makes it harder for me to hold in my laugh.
Liam begins to make a spluttering sound in the back of his throat and just as his eyes shoot open, still heavy with sleep, I pull back with lightning reflexes. As still as possible, I make an effort to wipe the grin that I know will give me away off of my face as a feign sleep.
The picture of sheer innocence is what I manifest as I even my breathing out and soften my features. God I could have been anactress if the world didn’t go to shit. I probably would have made good money.
‘You’re smirking, princess.’
Ok, maybe I wouldn’t have made that much money, but with good acting classes I reckon I’d have been on to something.
I risk a peek at the massive man I feel looming over me. But as soon as I crack open my right eye, I can’t help but blink them both open in surprise.
Liam — the creep he is — lies with his fucking nose practically touching mine as he stares directly into my soul. He can probably see my thoughts with how bloody close he is to me.
‘Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I’ve ever seen. Have I ever told you that?’
‘Erm… I’m not sure.’
It’s kind of hard to think with him so close. Come to think of it, there isn’t an inch of space between any part of us. The big psycho has even managed to intertwine our legs together.
Seriously, when did he do that?
And I was thinking I was potentially the crazier of us two.
‘Your eyes are like the most precious gemstone. Their vibrant, enchanting green mesmerises me every time I look at you, princess.’
Great. He’s a frigging poet as well as a crazy.
