Page 111 of Debt of My Soul

“Fleur, please.”

I spin, eyes surely wild with desire but dosed with guilt and shame. “I need air.”

Is it wrong to be feeling this with how we were brought together?

I’m panting heavily, and Liam approaches me, eyes roving over my heaving chest and dipping down to where his hands were glued to my hips inside.

Liam reaches for me, hand on my cheek. He’s so gentle. The big, powerful male cradles my head as if it’s the most breakable thing he’s ever held. “I care about you too, Fleur. More thanyouknow.”

He parrots my words and I melt. The night is quiet aside from the soft chatter coming from the establishment around the corner. Without a word, I press up on my toes and touch my lips to his mouth.

I shudder at the contact, and I’m swept away instantly in the feel of him. Hands prob at my back, pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss. I drag my tongue across his lips, tasting him and he opens, thrusting his tongue in my mouth. Sparks weaponize my body, and I tug and pull at him as I fist his shirt.

More contact. More,my body seems to chant on top of the thrumming beneath my skin.

Liam pulls away, eyes holding my lips in his sight before glancing around him and where we are.

Dark red brick is behind me, worn and faded from age, and an air conditioner unit is tucked into the window behind Liam. The lighting is faint, but that doesn’t stop me from reaching for him, frustrated with his restraint. Afraid he’s going to stop, I plead, “I want this, I want you.”

“I’m not going to take you against a building.”

“Stop treating me like a wilting flower.”

He smirks. “Isn’t that the literal translation for your name?”

I roll my eyes and respond by dragging my hands up, slowly unbuttoning my shirt with my trembling fingers. Liam’s eyes follow each released button, then widen as I shrug off the scratchy fabric. The cool brick behind me barely assuages the burning on my skin. Each nerve ending is on fire. Every twitch in his jaw, every sidestep of his feet—I catch it all, needing it. Needing him.

Stepping into me, he reaches for my shirt. “Put this back on,” he says as he attempts to rebutton my shirt. I bat his hand away, but he tries again. Hands fumbling, he shakes as he sneaks a glance down my torso. I smack his hand away harder and push him, growling in frustration.

“Where’s the feeling you promised me, huh?” I shove at him again, tears welling in my eyes for absolutely no reason except I want this man with everything I have. It hurts. “What about pain? Pleasure?”

“Fleur, stop. This?—”

“Where is it?” I move my hands to the button of my jeans, flicking it open.

Liam’s nostrils flare and he steps back into me, capturing one of my wrists and slamming it above me. Thick fingers move to thread between both of mine, pressing them beside my head on either side.

I gasp as my head rolls back to settle on the wall. His mouth hovers to the side of my chin, and the warmth of his breathtickles my ear as it skirts over the shell. I close my eyes, letting my other senses take over.

Trying to swallow the dryness in my mouth, my tongue darts out to lick my lips, and I hear him hiss. With one hand, the other still pressing mine to the wall, he drags his fingers down over my bare stomach. The gentle touch sends me into a frenzy, and I buck, needing more of his stroking hands. He dips a finger to the undone button of my jeans, tickling and teasing the spot between them.

“There’s no turning back from this,wife.” He moves a thumb over my empty wrist.

I haven’t worn the rubber bands since he cut them off a few weeks ago. The only thing that remains is the horseshoe, marking me as Darrin’s. It’s more than that, though—this mark means I’m alsohis. Liam’s.

My core clenches at the thought.

I peer up at him, eyes heavy. There’s no second-guessing this. There’s not a single reason to stop. I trust Liam and everything he is.

Reaching up, I pull the tie from his hair, letting it fall around his heaving shoulders. Worried lines extend from his burning eyes, so deep I can almost trace them. For a second, I’m concernedhe’ssecond-guessing this. Us.

“Liam …” I whimper, and that’s all it takes.

His mouth crashes to mine, while his free hand cradles my chin, angling it for better access. He brushes the seam of my lips, and I open for him this time, tasting the beer he was sipping minutes ago.

I run my hand down his back, sculpted muscle tensing as he struggles to maintain control. But I want him out of control. Flutters erupt in my belly as he presses into me, and I gasp, gripping his shirt tight.

I might explode. I need …

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