Page 71 of The Savior

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“There’s nowhere else I want to be.” Liam searched for doubt, and when Chelsea didn’t give him any, he brushed a wayward hair off her cheek again.

The careful touch made her eyelids lower, and she trembled as his fingers touched her chin and traced from her jawline down the slope of her neck.

Her erratic breaths matched the wild race in her heart. Arousal coursed through her curves, and she shivered when Liam leaned close enough to kiss her—but didn’t.

He didn’t rush, and she didn’t know why. But Chelsea savored the slow-burning seconds that made her ready to explode.

Finally, he brushed his lips to hers. The softness made her moan. The tease left her humming for more. If she’d had any last-minute hesitations, they’d disappeared as his tongue pushed into her mouth.

The lighting-swept sky raged, and she needed more. Shrouded in the dark, painted in candlelight, she clung to him.

The storm howled and shook. Cold glass pressed against her back as Liam pinned her against the window. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His erection pressed against her body as his strength surrounded her. Glittering desire rushed, and she couldn’t get enough of his touch.

He nipped and kissed and groaned. The world spun around them, and she snaked her legs up his powerful thighs, moaning his name.

He lifted her up, and his groin flexed against her mound. “Shit, Chelsea.” Thunder and lightning crashed. Liam whipped his tongue down her neck. “Killing me.”

She writhed, urging him for more—but Liam jerked away.

“What?” she cried as her legs fell down.

Their breaths raced. His deep blazing emerald eyes wouldn’t let her go.

“Liam, what?” Though that time she whispered.

In their panting silence, the rain storm wailed. She shivered against the cold window and studied his rugged features, etched with concern.

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the couch then lowered her to the cushions, half holding, half pinning her in a delicious, possessive clinch.

Liam let the weight of his body blanket her until she couldn’t move and didn’t want to.

This was that moment where they could walk away, no harm, no foul. Or at least without paradigm-shifting damage. But she didn’t want to hold back. “Even before this, storms were my favorite weather.”

He grinned. “I’d hate to ruin one of your favorite things.”

Hewas one of her favorite things. She didn’t know when or how that’d happened. They still teetered on the line where all could be turned around, where they could walk away and maybe survive. But she didn’t care if they saw the line again. Something raw and rabid, without clothes and regrets, needed to happen.

“Tell me what you want.”

Everything!Didn’t he know? Her cheeks blazed. “You can’t ask me that!”

“I can do whatever I want,” he teased.

Yes, he could. Except leave. If Liam walked out the door, she was positive she wouldn’t survive the night.

He pushed onto the couch and lay on his side. They were face to face, and vivid, visceral ideas of his corded legs nudging her softer ones apart caused her to whimper.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I can’t,” she admitted. “I’m not sure about anything when it comes to you.”

He squeezed her to his chest, wrapping her safely in his strength. She imagined how Liam would press himself inside her body, how her fingernails would dig into his back, and the soul-claiming way he’d make her stretch to his length and girth. A needling arousal pulsed.

He gently swayed his palm from her side, over her hip. “Do you like this?” His fingers danced along her waistband, dipping to tease her bare stomach. “Or like that?”

Her breath caught in her lungs.Both!Need sparked along her stomach. Her breasts hurt, painfully aware they’d been ignored. Her tight nipples beaded against her bra, and she couldn’t think.

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