Page 56 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

"Fuck," Liam breathes out, his eyes following the path of the desert as it pools on my skin.

He leans forward, his mouth closing over my nipple, capturing the sweetness there. The sensation is startling, sending a jolt through me that makes me buck against him. I can't help but move, rocking my hips in a rhythm that matches the swirling of his tongue.

"Oh, Liam," I gasp, my voice a mixture of desperation and delight.

He groans against my skin, the vibrations sending ripples of pleasure through me. I feel his hands grip my hips, guiding me, encouraging me.

"Shiloh, you're incredible," he murmurs, his voice strained with need. "Don't stop."

I cling to him, my nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders. My world narrows down to the feeling of him inside me, the taste of the dessert on my tongue, and the relentless drive towards something that promises to shatter me completely.

"Never," I promise breathlessly, meeting each of his thrusts with an urgency that borders on frantic. The room is filled with the sounds of our union—the soft slap of skin on skin, the rustle of the sheets, and our mingled moans. It's a symphony of desire, played just for us, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

The last of the dessert forgotten, Liam's movements become more insistent, flipping me over with a strength that leaves my head spinning. My leg is hoisted over his shoulder, opening me up to him in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly exhilarating. He drives into me hard, each thrust pushing a new wave of breathless cries from my lips.

"Look at me," he commands, and I can't deny him anything.

My eyes lock onto his, and there's a storm brewing in those depths—a tempest of raw desire and unspoken promises. His hands roam over my body with a possession that says I'm his, now and forever, even if we're dancing on the edge of something forbidden.

"I want to do filthy things with you, Shiloh," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I want your mouth under my desk, taking me while I'm on a call. I want you staying late, riding me until the only thing you can remember is my name."

His words are like fire, igniting a hunger within me that I didn't know could exist. The thought of being so intimately his, in every place that was once off-limits, sends a thrill down my spine.

"Every night," he continues, his gaze never leaving mine, "I want you in this bed, in the breakroom, anywhere and everywhere. I want your taste lingering on my lips during meetings, your touch branded into my skin. I need you, all of you—your hands, your body, your mouth. I need you to belong to me."

"Please," I whisper, the word torn from me by the relentless pleasure he's giving me.

The pressure inside builds, a tidal wave of sensation that threatens to consume me whole. My breath hitches as Liam's rhythm becomes relentless, each movement calculated to bring us both to the brink. I'm spiraling, caught in the rapture of his eyes that burn with an intensity I've never seen before.

"Ah, Liam," I moan out, my voice a broken whisper of surrender. His name is a plea, a declaration, a release.

I come apart beneath him, a powerful orgasm that tears through me with the force of a storm. My fingers dig into the muscles of his back, craving something solid to hold onto as my entire being focuses on the exquisite pleasure he wrings from every nerve ending.

He doesn't break eye contact, doesn't look away as I unravel before him. And in those moments, lost in Liam's eyes and body, I find a connection deeper than just our tangled limbs—a binding of souls that defies reason.

As the waves of my climax ebb, Liam captures my lips with his own, kissing me through the aftershocks. The flavor of apple tart, sweet and tangy, still lingers on my tongue, mingling with the taste of him. It's a kiss that speaks volumes without uttering a single word, sealing everything that's happened between us.

In the aftermath, our breathing slows and the world shrinks to this room, to the heat of Liam's body pressed against mine. His eyes search my face, as if he's looking for something but isn't quite sure what it is. A silent question hangs in the air between us, one that neither of us has dared to ask.

"Say yes," Liam suddenly breaks the silence, his voice a low command that vibrates through my core.

I blink up at him, confused and still reeling from the intensity of our connection.

"Yes?" I echo, my mind scrambling to interpret the weight behind that single word. My heart pounds against my ribs, a wild rhythm that threatens to break free. "To what?"

His gaze locks onto mine, unwavering, demanding an answer. Intensity emanates from him like heat from a fire. "To being mine. To let me use you all day, every day. I fucking need you to say yes."

The words strike me not as a question but as a plea laced with raw desire. My heart hammers against my chest, the sound so loud in my ears it nearly drowns out the distant hum of the city below Liam's lavish bedroom window.

I nod, my throat too tight to form words. "Yes," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper, but it's enough. It's the surrender he's seeking.

He crushes his lips to mine in an all-consuming kiss, his mouth claiming mine with unbridled ownership. It's a kiss that brands me and seals this moment of reckless abandon.

Underneath him, I feel small yet infinite, caught in the eye of a storm that is entirely Liam. His taste, the essence of power and privilege mixed with something uniquely him, floods my senses. The crispness of the apple tart we shared mingles with the taste of our mutual craving.

"Say it again," he murmurs against my lips, a command wrapped in velvet darkness.

"Yes," I breathe out, the word falling from me like a sacred vow.

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