Page 98 of Cruel When He Smiles
I force a breath out, trying to act like I’m not reacting to his tone, to the way he’s looking at me. I try to pretend I’m not that easy to read, that I’m still in control of this… But I’m a goddamn liar.
“That deserves a reward, doesn’t it?”
My eyes snap to his, and I hate how unsure I feel. “What—”
He tilts my chin up with two fingers again, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. His breath is warm on my face, his fingertips light, and my lashes flutter before I can stop them. I smell his expensive cologne, and my body starts to give in, just like that.
“I take care of what’s mine,” he whispers.
My lips part without meaning to… and then he kisses me.
It’s not rushed or rough. It’s not possessive or cruel, not like last time. This time it’s slow—earned. I kiss him back hesitantly at first, before it turns greedy, then desperate. It hits me in the ribs first, then coils into the pit of my stomach and blooms into heat that burns through my spine.
I don’t want him to stop. I need this. God, I hate how much I need this.
And when I moan—quiet, shameful, the kind of sound I didn’t even mean to make—I feel his whole body respond. He pulls back to look at me, and his eyes—fuck. They see too much. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, and I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t even fucking breathe.
“My good boy,” he murmurs.
My breath catches in my throat, and I know he hears it. My fists curl at my sides because I don’t want this to mean something. I don’t want him to know how much those three words twist up everything inside me.
But I still don’t move.
His fingers trail down my chest slowly, and I shiver, even though I try not to. His voice drops lower, just for me. “Do you know why I keep pushing you, Nate? Why I can’t just let you be?”
“Because you’re a control freak?”
“No.” His smile fades, just a fraction. “Because you don’t lie to me. Not really. You play the game, sure. You run your mouth and act like you don’t care, but your body always tells the truth.”
I glare at him. “You don’t know shit about me.”
“I know enough,” he murmurs. “I know you don’t flinch when I say cruel things. I know you get hard when I degrade you. I know you liked what happened last night, and you’ve been pretending it didn’t rip you open since, and I think that bravery needs a reward.”
His tone softens again, viciously gentle, before he smirks and drops to his knees in front of me like he’s not the most dangerous person I’ve ever met, making my brain blue-screen.
I know this is a calculated kind of surrender, not a gift. A trap dressed in seductive hazel eyes and slow breathing. He kneels like a fucking king who still knows how to play servant.
Except I know better. I knowhim.
There’s nothing pure about the way he touches or takes or devours. There’s no part of this that’s kind. He doesn’t kneel to serve; he kneels to own.
I don’t move. Not when his hands trail up my calves, not when his fingers curl around the backs of my knees, steadying me. I look down at him, frozen. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Liam lifts his head, his gaze steady as it locks on mine. Even though he’s on his knees, he doesn’t look submissive. “Rewarding you.”
“Liam—”
“You came when I called.” His eyes drop to the line of my waistband before dragging back up. “You could’ve ignored me and told me to stay away, but you didn’t.”
My fists curl at my sides. “That doesn’t mean—”
“It means everything to me, Pup.” His hands slide up my thighs. “You did so good listening to me, even when it scared you.”
“It still scares me,” I say, and it comes out quieter than I want. “Youscare me.”
He smiles. “Good,” he breathes, his hands sliding up to grip my thighs through my jeans. “Now you can stop pretending your pretty cock isn’t already hard for me.”
He leans in, nuzzling my crotch before he looks up again, and this time, his eyes burn. “Let me show you what obedience gets you from a guy like me.”
