Page 94 of Free to Fall

“I love how you think.” Just as the last word crosses my lips, his mouth crashes down on mine.

Chapter

Fifty-One

As soon as our lips connect, I press my body against his, picking up where we left off the other night. Liam’s mouth opens beneath mine and my tongue swipes inside to tangle with his. My fingers dive into his hair to hold on tight as he shifts my body, to once again have me straddling his lap.

But with the excuse of a bikini I was wearing to sunbathe, when his hands roam my back and thighs, there are no yards of silk hindering his fingers from encountering skin.

My skin.

And good Christ, the way his calloused fingers feel against it makes me want to feel the rest of him.

Ripping my mouth away, I tug at the edge of his shirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Liam grips me beneath my ass and stands. “I’m thinking the same thing, but I don’t want an audience. Tell me how to get to your bedroom.”

Trailing my lips up the side of his neck, I reach his ear just as he lets out a harsh growl. “Through the doors. Up the stairs.”

Liam immediately begins walking. The second he does, I angle my hips so I feel the length of his cock rub against my clit. Now it’s my turn to groan as the friction burns through me—every hard part of him gliding against the parts of me that are softening in preparation for him.

My head falls back after he starts up the stairs with me in his arms, every knee bend rocking me against him. “Faster.”

His hand, which had been supporting my back at that point, slides into my curls. Bracing me against the wall, he orders, “The first time you come will be with my fingers and mouth. The second time will be with my cock buried deep inside you, Laura.”

My sanity takes flight and I tug his lips down to mine for an impromptu make out session. “Then hurry.”

He bounds up the stairs until he reaches the landing. “Where the fuck is your bedroom?”

I drag one hand from where I’d been clutching his muscular arm and point at the door just beyond the stairs.

Liam immediately resumes his hasty movements.

The second the door closes behind us, I unwrap my legs from around his lean hips and let my body slide down the front of his. As I do, my hands immediately reach for his T-shirt. Breathlessly, I inform him, “One of us is overdressed.”

He arches his tattooed arm behind his back and rips the offending garment off with one hand. “I agree. Strip.”

I can’t. I’m not certain if I can force my lungs to inhale as I stare at a body God must have created on a day she realized orgasms were necessary for humans to live.

My mouth waters as my eyes roam from his eyes down over the scruff of his beard, down the cords that define his neck. My eyes flicker across broad shoulders I must have dreamed up in a fantasy. Then over his pectorals, where a sprinkle of hair leads to his six-pack. Down further to where his hip bones jut out just slightly, making the waistband of his jeans gap just a bit.

I reach for him and my hand slides into that gap. I yank him toward me. I want to feel Liam’s body against mine, with as much skin touching as possible. “Let me help with this last little problem.”

He rotates his hips and my eyes almost roll back into my head. “Little?”

I back away from him, leading him to where I want him—in my bed. Along the way, he undoes the button and lowers the zipper of his jeans before toeing off his shoes. Sweet merciful heaven. When we stop by my bed and his pants fall to the floor, I’m facing a primordial male whose predatory gaze tells me he’s intent on one thing.

Sex. Sex with me.

His arms wrap around the back of me and with a few flicks, my bikini top drops to the floor. Judging by the way a dark ring wraps around his light green eyes, he not only feels the pebbling of my nipples against his chest but he’s as turned on by it as I am by everything that’s him. His hands come up to cup my breasts. I protest when he moves me back a step, but that transitions to a moan when he bends forward and takes a nipple into his mouth.

Sucking and licking, his lips worship one breast while his fingers roll the other nipple. Then—yes!—he switches to the other as his ministrations with his finger and thumb resume. He releases my breast with a pop before saying, “Christ, Laura. I could spend a whole day just worshiping your tits.”

“Later,” I pant. My hands skim down his back. “I want you.”

His head lifts and he topples me backward until I’m sprawled across the bed in a diagonal. “I believe I made you certain promises on the stairs.” His hands reach for my bikini bottoms.

My hips lift as he drags them down over my ass. Then I am exposed to his touch, his mouth.

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