Page 33 of Aim Assist

"You have junk in this trunk. I approve."

"That's not all I have, baby girl."

The lock clicks as I tap my keycard against it and I shouldered the door open, not bothering with the lights. My room is cast in shadow, an intimate cocoon meant only for us.

I stride purposefully toward the bed, depositing her onto the plush duvet with a gentleness that contradicts the raging inferno inside me. She's a vision in the moonlight, golden curls fanned out in a halo, those gorgeous green eyes dark with desire and kiss-swollen lips parted on a sigh.

My self-control is fraying at the seams, but I hold back, needing her to be sure. To want this as much as I do.

"Tell me you want this, Amy. Want me. That I didn't go too far."

She stares at me for long seconds that feel like an eternity. She's so close and yet I can't touch her.

Not until I know she's okay.

She's so young. I shouldn't be doing this—

"Liam. If you don't fuck my brains out, my blue lady balls will stalk you into the afterlife. I promise you don't want that."

She gets on her knees, reaching behind her to unzip her dress, a sexy fucking goddess on the perfectly made sheets. "I'm going to be naked in two seconds. If you're not, I'll find someone else to do what I need."

Amy

Liam's growl reverberates through the room at my threat.

It's a lie, of course. If he doesn't fuck me, I'll go to my room with my tail between my legs and rub a few out in the shower or something.

But my declaration works, because he pounces on me before I can get my zipper down.

Liam's mouth claims mine, his tongue darting between my lips as his hands roam my body. He unzips my dress, dragging it off my shoulders, his fingers trailing fire across my skin.

The Spanx is next, shoved down my shoulders as he pulls my arms through, and I'm too deep into desire to care that all my rolls are about to be on display.

I moan into his mouth, my hips rolling against his. He needs to hurry the fuck up and get inside me before I explode.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with hunger. "Turn around."

I comply, my heart racing as he flips me onto my stomach. His hand presses between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the mattress. He gathers my wrists, stretching my arms above my head until my fingers brush the headboard.

"Keep them there," he growls. "Don't move."

"Yes, sir." The words slip out unbidden, but they feel right. Natural.

He chuckles, low and dangerous. His free hand glides down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Every part of my body is so sensitive that I feel like screaming at every touch.

The orgasm in the elevator wasn't enough. I need about thirty more.

Deft fingers unhook my bra, and he pulls my dress, Spanx, and bra off, shimmying them down my body and over my heels, tossing them all aside. Then his mouth is on me, kissing a trail of flames across my shoulders, down my back. Hot breath tickles and soft lips soothe, leaving me writhing beneath the onslaught of sensation.

I arch into his touch, aching for more. Hard teeth nip at my hip, and I jolt forward in surprise, my fingers curling around the headboard.

I love it from behind, but it's never like this.

Were all the men I dated before prudes in bed?

Or is Liam on another level?

I've heard of this kind of shit in all the romance novels, but—damn. Experiencing it is a whole different level.

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