Page 48 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

I barely had time to register what was happening before Liam was on me, his massive, elite-athlete frame a solid wall of muscle as he spun me around and slammed me against the door. The wood groaned under our combined weight, a sharp contrast to the furnace of his skin.

My entire world narrowed to the heat of his body, the rough demand of his mouth, and the way his thick fingers dug into the soft curve of my waist like he was trying to bruise the memory of his touch into my ribs.

His mouth crashed into mine, and it was a hot, desperate kiss with a collision of teeth and tongue. It felt like he had been starving for this, holding back for hours, and finally snapped.

We were still dripping from the pool, water sliding in cool rivulets between our bodies, our skin slick and warm. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine, his spicy cedarwood cologne, and him. He was everywhere, his hands tangling in my hair, his fingers fumbling with the towel wrapped around me until he ripped it away with a frustrated growl, sending the fabric fluttering to the floor.

“W-what are you doing?” I gasped between kisses, my voice breathless, my body already arching instinctively into his touch.

He didn’t answer as his mouth moved to my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His teeth nipped and scraped down to my collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit. His hands were on my bikini top, tugging at the strings with a frantic, clumsy energy that made me let out a jagged laugh.

“I don’t fucking know,” he growled, his voice rough, almost pained. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I picked you up.”

And then his mouth closed over my nipple through the wet, thin fabric, biting down just enough to make me moan, my back arching so hard against the door that the handle poked into my spine.

His fingers twisted in my hair, pulling it free from the bun. The strands tumbled down my shoulders, damp and heavy, and he buried his face in them, inhaling as if he wanted to memorize the scent.

I could feel him. I could feel every hard, thick inch of his cock pressed against my thighs, straining against his swim trunks. The blunt pressure was maddening, and my body responded without thought, grinding my hips into him, seeking friction, seeking more, seeking him.

“I just—fuck,” he groaned, his hand sliding down my stomach, his calloused palm dragging over my skin before his fingers hooked into the waistband of my bikini bottoms. “I couldn’t stand that everyone was staring at you. Thinking they had a goddamn chance.”

I huffed out a laugh, even as my breathing hitched. “They were not⁠—”

“Yes, they fucking were,” he said, pulling back to glare at me, his gray eyes darkened into a stormy, predatory black. “You look so sexy in this... tiny fucking thing. It’s a crime, Deepika.”

His hand shoved under my bikini bottoms, and his fingers found me dripping. I was soaked, swollen, and throbbing so hard it felt like a second heartbeat between my legs. He groaned, the sound vibrating deep inside my chest.

“Fuck, Deepika.”

I gasped, my hands flying to his wrist. I wasn’t pushing him away or pulling him closer, just holding on because my legs had gone weak. His fingers moved in slow, tight circles over my clit, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I could only feel the coil of pleasure tightening to a breaking point.

“W-we shouldn’t,” I said, my voice trembling as I heard the muffled sound of music and laughter through the door.

His fingers moved faster, dipping into my heat before returning to flick my clit again. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.

“Why the fuck not?” He demanded, a vein popping in his neck as if he was angry at the thought of us stopping.

“Because we’re in public!”

He smirked, his thumb pressing down exactly where I needed it, sending a jagged bolt of lightning through my core. “And what if I don’t care?” He asked, purring in his deep voice.

“What if I want everyone to hear how hard I make my fiancée come? What if I want them to know you’re making those pathetic, beautiful noises just for me?” His fingers slid inside me, one first and then two, stretching me open until I let out a low, needy whine. “Hm? What if?”

I opened my mouth to argue, to say something, but then his fingers curved inside me, hitting that hidden, swollen spot that made my vision blur, and I was gone.

The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. It was so sudden and overwhelming that I cried out before his other hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the sound as my body shook against him. My internal muscles clamped down on his fingers, milking them in desperate, rhythmic pulses.

But he didn’t stop. Liam kept that perfect, maddening rhythm, his thumb relentless on my clit, drawing out every wave of pleasure until I was boneless, my bikini bottoms soaked through with my release and my thighs trembling violently.

When I could finally breathe again, he gently pulled his hand away. I felt cold and hollow the second he left. And then, before I could process what was happening, he hooked his fingers in my bikini bottoms and pulled them down, yanking them past my knees and leaving me completely naked and shivering from the waist down.

“Liam, we…” I paused because I didn’t know what to say.

He had just pulled me away from the pool party and made me cum against a closed door with his dirty words crooning in my ear and expert fingers curling inside me.

Oh my God.

He held up my bikini bottoms, staring at them with an expression I couldn’t read. They were ruined and soaked through, glistening with the evidence of my climax. The sight of my own juices on his hand made my face explode with heat.