Page 16 of Cupid's Naughty Elf

Liam takes the cocktail I’d forgotten from my hand, and after drinking what’s left, he holds the glass above my head. I’m confused for a second, almost asking him if he’s okay when his lips touch mine.

For a few seconds I’m frozen, don’t so much as breathe, but he coaxes me with gentle nips and the slow glide of his tongue across my bottom lip. The kiss is reverent with a touchof scorching hunger, but he doesn’t take more than the innocent kiss.

Memorizing my lips. My taste.

“More, Liam.” The plea leaves me on a whimper, my hands gripping his suit jacket, and right when I think he’ll give in—Liam steps away.

I’m left breathless, leaning against the railing for support while he gives me a satisfied grin.

I want to punch him and then kiss it better.

“…love the tail, by the way.” That snaps me out of my thoughts, but before I can demand he claim my mouth again, he carries on. “I’ll be keeping my eyes on it for the rest of the night.”

“Liam, what?—”

“Stay close and behave, sugar plum.”

“Yes sir,” I whisper because he’s already walking away, leaving me alone while the party inside gets louder. From the voices carrying through the semi-closed door, the last guests have arrived and it’s created a commotion.

I catch words here and there:

Costumes.

Best in show.

Those two are in trouble.

This costume tradition began with the very firstfriendsmasparty. Back then, it was exclusively between four families, a tight-knit group of heirs that grew up together, but over the years, it’s expanded. Siblings, cousins, and business partners who understand the meaning of discrepancy.

The party is exclusive and has one golden rule: you see, hear, and speak nothing about it.

It’s a debauched night of friends hooking up, and drinking, and my plans included being hungover the next day. Now, though, I’ll be hungoverwiththe taste of him hopefully lingering on my lips.

Because Liam Rutherford kissed me.

Chaste and sweetly underneath a mistletoe garnish inside of an empty drink glass.

It’s destroyed me.

His scent. His heat.His taste.

Happy Birthday to me.

6

LIAM

MILK & COOKIES

PRESENT…

My eyes rake down her body, from her perky tits and down her tight abdomen before stopping on her swollen clit. It’s peeking out from its hood and glistening, begging for my tongue—my mouth waters.

Every muscle in my body trembles and my fingers dig in deeper. I’m sure there’ll be marks all along her delicate skin before morning light, a worshipping map of my obsession, but more importantly, I’m going to take inventory of each one.

I want photographs. Video recordings.

Mementos of tonight that will soon be displayed on the wall behind our headboard.

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