Page 38 of For the Love of Layla

I’m so breaking into your office tonight.

By the time the auction is half over I’ve nearly picked off all my carefully applied nail polish. I look away from Liam for a moment to wipe the remnants from my gown. His eyes haven’t left me all night, barely long enough to help with the bidding. It looks so effortless the way he reacts to the people around him, navigating jokes I never understand and conversations I’ve never been interested in. If I didn’t know him, I’d assume he was right at home. He wears his mask like a second skin. How could I have ever stood up against that?

My heart skips a beat as I look up to find him distracted, and a little annoyed. Point being his gaze is no longer anchored to me.

Thank you, Brandon.

I worry my hands as I try to pump myself up. God, I’m fucking nervous, I remember my way around here well enough, finding the office will be a breeze. Theoretically.

Layla, it’s now or never.

I grip my bag tightly in my hand as I raise from my seat, mumbling my apologies as the people nestled on either side of me glare on. Don’t worry about them, for the love of God just go. My cowardice and fear prevent me from glancing behind me until I’m nearly out of the threshold of the large ballroom. I nearly faint with relief as my eyes land on Liam’s broad back. The arrival bell of the elevator sounds like fucking redemption as I slip inside, spamming the close door button like my life depends on it.

Because it might.

It’s not until I’m standing completely still inside the small space, leaning my forehead against the cool mirrored wall, reveling in how good it feels against my heated skin that it occurs to me I should’ve forgone the last glass of champagne. I’m not drunk, but I’ve always been a lightweight and I’m well on my way. Liquid courage is a doubled-edged sword when it comes to me, and more often than not I end up getting cut.

I smile drunkenly as I stumble through the threshold of Liam’s office. He looks so… scorching sun hot with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. The first few buttons of it undone the collar hanging open, exposing the top of the large moth tattooed onto his chest. The stupid shit-eating grin doesn’t leave my face as I watch his fist clench around the papers in his hands.

He’s pissed, and sex with pissed Liam is… intense.

He doesn’t look up as I approach his desk, leaning up against its sleek hardwood design. The earthiness of it looks so off in the plaster white and mirror filled décor Brandon spewed throughout the building. “Get a cab and go home, Layla.”

I pout, he always gets like this after I go out with Ava, especially if I drink. “Are you not happy to see me?” I ask as I push off his desk, stumbling around before awkwardly hopping up onto it. Feeling quite impressed with my agility at the moment. Liam groans, finally looking up from the paper, his heated eyes landing on the hem of my dress that’s pooled up around my thighs.

“Is that what you fucking wore?” He growls, as his blue eyes glide across my skin, making arousal build between my legs. I love it when he gets jealous. It makes me feel so…desired.

So needed.

“Do you like it?” I ask softly, slipping my fingers along the hem, pretending to straighten it out. I gasp as his large hands grip my waist, jerking me off his desk and spinning me until I’m facing away from him. Not a fun action when you’re heavily intoxicated and in heels. I lean my head back into him as he presses his hardened cock into my ass.

“Of fucking course I like it.” He whispers, his voice chipped as he slams me down into his desk, following me down and pressing his hard warm chest into my back. I clench my thighs together as his lips find my neck, “I’m tired of you going out.”

“I’m allowed to have friends outside of you, Liam.”

A small yelp leaves my throat as he presses himself into me harder, making the desk bite into my hips. His large hand shoves my heated cheek against the hard surface, “For now.”

Huh?

“I’m trying, little star, to be reasonable when it comes to you. You’re making it… Very. Fucking. Difficult. I’ve been a mess all night, Layla.” He groans as he nips at my exposed shoulder.

Bite, lick, suck.

I moan as he removes his hand from my head, hooking his fingers into my thin soaked underwear, jerking them off of me. The fabric ripping away like paper in his grasp.

“Wondering what you were doing, who you were with…”

Bite, lick, suck.

I gasp as he jerks my dress up, exposing my ass to him, notching himself against my glistening entrance.

Holy hell.

“Did you talk to any other men, Layla, huh? Did you fucking touch them? You know what I’ll do if I find out you did, baby?” His words send tremors through my taunt, needy body, making me push back into him. He moves back, not letting me slip him inside. I groan, “I didn’t talk to anyone, Liam. Please.”

I get no warning as he brings his hand down, slapping my ass hard, involuntary tears well in my eyes. He’s never… spanked me before. He doesn’t stop either. His hits are rough and punishing, making me cry out with each slap until I’m whimpering beneath him. The stinging flesh doesn’t stop my arousal from dipping down my legs.

“Mine.” He growls as he slams into me, making me cry out as he rocks feverishly into my sex, sending waves of pleasure and pain crashing over me.

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