Page 105 of Tell Me It’s Right

His arms fold around my waist, pulling me flush to his chest, then he stands. Before my feet can brush the ground, he flips me so my back hits the couch and his weight presses down on me, my legs parting around his hips. The hard press of him between my thighs has my breath leaving my lungs in a rush.

I gasp as his hands run along the silky fabric of my dress, down my ribs, my hips, and hook beneath my thighs. His lips trail to my cheek, my jaw, my throat, places I’ve never been kissed before, his hands finding places I’ve never been touched, and my body flames with feelings I’ve never felt.

For a moment, my brain is stuck in a loop ofI’ve never, I’ve never, I’ve never, and it’s enough to break through the haze of want.

Liam pauses with his face inches from mine. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, it’s—it’s not that. I just?—”

He waits, his thumb rubbing my arm.

I don’t have to say it. His eyes widen slightly, and he pulls back another inch. “This is your first time,” he breathes.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more mortified in my life that it was that fucking obvious.

Liam must see it on my face because he quickly shakes his head. “I don’t want to rush this, Gracie. I don’t want to rushyou.I don’t want to do anything a single moment before you’re ready.”

I’ve heard something similar from other guys before, ones who didn’t mean it. Ones who thought saying that would make me change my mind, and when it didn’t, they disappeared from my life.

But they never looked at me the way Liam is.

I never trusted any of them the way I trust him.

And I never wanted any of them the way I want this right now.

“I know,” I murmur. “And I’m not rushing.”

He gives me a small, cautious smile as I pull his lips to mine.

“You’re sure?” he whispers.

I nod.

“If you want to stop, just say the word.”

“Liam, shut up and kiss me.”

And God, does he. He kisses me so hard I feel it in my soul. His hands dance across my body like they want to touch all of me at once—down my arms, my sides, my legs, up into my hair, the sides of my face. I grip his shoulders, the muscles flexing beneath my hands, then trail down his back, his sides, and he shivers beneath my touch. I pull at the hem of his shirt, desperate for more, to feel his skin against mine.

He leans back on his knees and pulls the shirt over his head with one hand. My mouth runs dry. He pauses as I hesitantly run my hands along the planes of his stomach.

His body is a beautiful mosaic of his art. It tells a story. The progression, the growth of his craft. The growing confidence in the placements that are more visible. I want to know about every single one, the story behind it. It would probably take all day.

His next kiss is achingly slow and tender. It makes everything inside of me feel like liquid.

“All right, birthday girl,” he whispers. “Hold on.”

He loops his arms beneath my thighs and scoops me up in one swift movement. I barely manage to lock my arms around his neck before he stands, and my gasp turns into a laugh as he heads for the bedroom.

“Of course I’m not doing this on the couch,” he says.

Chapter Thirty-Six

LIAM

Nothing has ever looked better than a breathless and disheveled Gracie Collins in my bed. Her hair is mussed from all the times I’ve run my hands through it, her lip gloss smeared from my inability to stop kissing her.

And that fucking dress.

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