Page 59 of Until We're More
Liam’s mouth fell open. Then he stalked forward, and even though I’d basically asked him to, it still sent my pulse skittering, my instincts shouting for me to flee from the predator while my body shouted,Yes please.
He yanked me to him, crushed his lips to mine, and kissed me until the room spun and my only choice was to cling to his giant biceps or melt.
His hands slid down to cup my butt, and then he boosted me into his arms like he had in the locker room. He squeezed and massaged and I panted and arched against him.
Suddenly I realized we were leaving my room. “Wait. Where are we going?”
“To my room,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice I’d never heard before. He moved his lips to my neck and lightly sucked on the skin there. “The bed’s bigger, and while I can make do with tight quarters, I’d prefer to have more room to work with.”
He kicked the door to his bedroom closed behind us and carried me to the bed. He lowered me onto it, then stood and raked his gaze over me. The hungry gleam sent my heart rate skyrocketing even higher, and wetness pooled between my thighs. He tugged off his shirt, and then I was the one staring. He crawled over me, the sublime weight of him pinning my body to the bed as his hands went to exploring. My thighs, my collarbone, my breasts.
He pinched one nipple between his fingers and rolled it, and I moaned and writhed against him. “Do you remember the night you tried to make me dinner?”
Finding my tongue incapable of words, I simply nodded.
“You had on that thin tank top, and I could see your hard nipples through the fabric, and that night I knew I was going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He tugged one strap off my shoulder, dipped his head, and circled the nipple he’d just worked into a frenzy with his tongue.
“Guess I should go braless more often,” I said as I tunneled my fingers into his hair, basking in the extraordinary sensations traveling across my skin and settling deep in my core. “With how small my boobs are, it’s not like I need to wear one anyway.” I cringed.Ugh, why did I say that?Obviously I could still say the wrong thing and ruin the mood in two seconds flat.
“Yes to going braless, but these breasts…?” He tugged the other strap of the baby-doll dress down, exposing me fully to him. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”
Before I could brush off the compliment that warmed me from the inside out, he moved his mouth to the other nipple and a different, needy, encompassing heat took over my body. One of his hands slid up my thigh, and his fingers brushed over me through the fabric, causing an involuntary whimper, along with a hundred zips of electricity.
He gripped the fabric gathered under my breasts and pulled it up and over my head.
There was the idea of being naked in front of Liam and then the reality. Sure, I’d strutted across a cage today, but this was up close, only one tiny triangle of fabric left, and while I wanted to feel bold, I felt naked in every possible way.
He owned so much of my heart already, and I had this second where I worried about how attached I’d be after this and about what would happen when I went back to Denver. I had a hard enough time not comparing every guy to Liam already, and I could only imagine how much harder it would be after this.
His eyes locked on to mine, and he wound a strand of my hair around his finger. “I can see the wheels turning, but you’re not saying anything, which always worries me.”
“Maybe I’m quiet during sex. Not even I’d know.”
He cracked a smile. “It’s me. Which means if you don’t like something or you want to try anything, all you have to do is say so.” A reverent expression overtook his features as his hand drifted down between my breasts and over my belly button. Mischief edged in as he trailed his fingers back and forth over the waistband of my thong. “Besides, if you’re quiet, I’m not doing my job.”
I had to lick my lips to help force out the words. “I want the kind of sex worth skipping wardrobe changes and food. But I realize that might take us a few tries to get right—we’ll have more than one try, won’t we?”
His hand stilled on my lower abdomen, the bottom of his palm so close to where I needed to be touched that I thought I might spontaneously combust. “One thing about me, I’m all about training and working until we get it right.”
“Even if we get it right the first time?”
“Well, then I’ve got to do it until it’s second nature. Until I know exactly what makes you whimper and how to make you scream my name.” He skated a knuckle down my center, and when I moaned, he increased the pressure.
“Liam…”
“Good start. Now, tell me exactly what you want.”
“I want you to touch me. I’m sick of having something in the way.”
He hooked his fingers in the tiny strings of my thong and tugged it down my legs and all the way off. In that moment, he didn’t shutter his emotions. I saw the awe on his face. The desire in his eyes. He dragged his fingers over me, spreading my wetness and circling my clit with his thumb, and it was so much better than anything I’d made do with that I knew it was going to ruin me. And I didn’t even care.
“Harder. Faster.”
He increased the pressure and speed, each intoxicating stroke sending me higher. “Fuck, Chelsea, I need to taste you.”
A few seconds ago I might’ve felt self-conscious, but the second he said it, white-hot desire overtook my body and had my back arching off the bed. “Mmm-hmm. Yeah, do that.”
He dropped to his knees and pushed my thighs apart, and then his mouth was on me. My head fell back against the pillows as I gripped the sheets in my hands. The tingles coursing through me multiplied at a rapid pace, growing stronger and stronger, until every inch of me ached for release.
