“I’m not rushing this, Sophie,” he whispers, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth, teasing but never quite claiming. “I want you to feel how much you mean to me. Every second of it.”
I shiver under his words, “Show me,” I whisper, tugging him closer. “Show me how much.”
A growl rumbles low in his throat, and he shifts, his lips licking and sucking on my pulse point. “Oh, I will, Sunshine. Every inch of you is mine.” His teeth graze my skin, a mix of rough and gentle that sends heat coursing through me. “I’m going to make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.”
His words make my breath hitch, and I arch into him, my body responding to every touch, every syllable. “Yes,” I breathe, my nails dragging lightly down his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath my fingers.
His hands slide higher under the T-shirt, pushing it up with maddening slowness. “I’m going to take my time with you, Sophie,” he murmurs, his lips finding mine again, his tongue teasing, tasting. “I want to hear every moan you make, every breath, every plea. I want to feel you completely unravel in my arms.”
His fingers slide higher, grazing the curve of my breast before cupping me fully. Heat blooms beneath his touch, a slow burn that makes my breath hitch. Then his thumb brushes over my nipple—light, teasing, deliberate. A shock of pleasure ripples through me, sharp and electric. I gasp, my body arching instinctively into his hand, silently begging for more.
He must feel it, the way I tremble, the way I strain toward him. Because he does it again, this time lingering, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers with an aching slowness that sends fire licking through my veins.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice a mix of authority and tenderness, his hands move to frame my face as he looks down at me.
“You,” I answer without hesitation. “I just wantyou.”
He smiles, the kind of smile that’s almost predatory, but there’s love behind it, too.
“You’ve always had me.”
His hand moves down my body. Lower and lower, while his lips scatter kisses along my collarbone, my chest, and down my stomach, each one igniting a fire that spreads through me.
He grips the hem of the T-shirt and pauses, his eyes flicking up to mine, silently asking for permission. I nod, barely able to breathe.
“You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his gaze raking over me, devouring every inch of skin he’s uncovered. His lips return to my skin, making a slow, deliberate path as his hands glide down my sides, catching the waistband of the sweatpants. He tugs them down, his eyes never leaving mine.
He throws the pants away and moves up again, his lips brushing over the arch of my foot and then my ankle. He works his way up, kissing the inside of my calf, then my knee, and higher until his mouth lingers on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. My breath hitches, and anticipation builds as his kisses inch closer to where I need him most.
He hovers there, his breath hot against my skin, and his hand moves, his finger sliding slowly up and down over my underwear. They’re slick with my arousal, and I feel a tremor run through me as he grunts, low and primal.
“Perfect,” he mumbles to himself, his voice thick and reverent, as though the word isn’t enough to capture what he sees.
His finger hooks under the fabric, sliding my underwear to the side, and he leans forward, his lips brushing softly, teasingly, against me. A gasp escapes my lips, and my hips arch toward him, instinctively seeking more.
And then he gives it to me, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles, coaxing and claiming as if he’s savoring every moment. He moves to my entrance, his tongue pushing in with torturous precision, all while his finger begins to draw lazy circles on the sensitive spot that sends jolts of heat spiraling through me.
“Liam…” His name falls from my lips, breathless and trembling, no longer a whisper but a plea of need. A surrender to him, to everything he’s making me feel.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my folds as he continues, his movements deliberate, almost worshipful. His hands grip my thighs firmly, holding me in place as he works me over, pushing me higher and higher. “Let me hear you, Sophie. Let me know exactly how good I’m making you feel.”
“Liam,” I breathe again, his name escaping in a broken moan as my hands try everything to pull him closer, needing more, needing everything he’s giving me. My body is alight, every touch, every flick of his tongue, sending waves of heat coursing through me.
“Keep saying my name while you come on my face,” he groans, his voice a mix of reverence and hunger, as if he can’t get enough. “You’re mine. You were always mine.”
His words, his touch, his relentless focus—it’s all too much and somehow not enough. My head falls back, a soft cry escaping my lips as I give in to him completely, the world fading until there’s only Liam and the way he’s unraveling me piece by piece like I’m the only thing that matters.
THIRTY-SEVEN
LIAM
The soft cry leaves her lips like the purest, most deafening song, echoing in the hollow spaces of my chest. It’s not just a sound—it’s everything. Music to my soul. A confession. A surrender. A plea for me. For us.
I make my way up her body, trailing kisses along her skin like I’m leaving pieces of myself behind. Each kiss is deliberate, reverent, until I reach her soft, full lips. When I press my lips to hers, the kiss is slow, unhurried, savoring every second like it’s the first time I ever kiss her.
My eyes find hers, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. The blue in her gaze seems lighter, glowing with a softness that pierces through every defense I’ve ever had. The faint, trembling smile on her lips makes my chest tighten, it’s almost unbearable.
“You were always mine too,” she whispers, her voice trembling but steady, the words carving themselves into my soul. “No matter how much I tried to get rid of you. You were etched into me. Into my soul.”