Page 36 of Torched

“No, wait,” she huffs, and I hold still. She quickly lets my dick slide for her pussy, then turns around, giving me her ass before she glues her front to the table. “Fuck me, Liam.”

Aggravated by the change of position, I stare at her plump ass, her black hair spread out over her back. Part of me wants to spin her around again so I can look her in the face, but the other throbbing part between my legs decides to just take her as she’s willing to give herself to me.

So I comply with her request.

And I fuck her from behind until she’s screaming.

9

LIAM

PRESENT DAY

IglanceatImogen,who’s holding my gaze over the rim of her glass. There is mischief in her baby blue eyes, and the need to drag her over this table and strip her naked grows by the second.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she scolds, though she’s unable to hide the ghost of a smile, as she licks the red wine from her lips.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t understand whythatis your dinner”—she points at my pasta filled plate while I take a bite—“instead ofme.’

“That’s because I don’t,” I reply, chewing my food. “I don’t see why I can’t have both.”

She cocks her pretty head, her blonde hair falling to the side.

“I can be dessert.”

“I like the way you think. But I’m not having dessert in the bedroom,” I dare. “I want dessert right here.” I press my index finger to the table, and my dick is growing painfully when the image of a naked Gen spread out over the glass table makes its way into my head, completely losing my appetite for actual food.

She gasps, a little shocked, but she can’t hide the intrigue that is lacing her eyes. She’s not completely on board, but she’s not fully against it either. Gen has a darker side, a bold side, one that she only lets out when she’s with me. And I love her even more for it, knowing she’s saved that part of her personality for me to cherish.

“Liam!” She gives me a reprimanding tone while her eyes carefully trail the rest of the room to see if anyone heard me. I don’t care if anyone did. This is my goddamn yacht and if I want to fuck my girl on the dining room table, then that’s what I’m going to do. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“But I can execute it?”

“What? No!” she scolds, but it’s followed by a giggle. “What if someone sees us?”

“Who cares?”

“I care!”

I lean forward, pushing my plate to the side as I stare into her eyes.

“You act sweet and innocent,” I rasp, “but deep down, you want me to fuck you on top of this table. Deep down, you want to know what it feels like when you’re being watched while I spread you wide. Don’t you, Blondie?”

She swallows hard as heat flushes her neck all the way up to the apples of her cheeks. She is at a loss for words while the air electrifies, tension crackling between us, while I wait for her to give me anything. A starting gun to cross the table and take what’s mine. Slowly but surely, her lips curl, and I anxiously stay in my seat, knowing she’s about to concede.

But my lustful mood is interrupted when the door to the hallway flies open and that screeching voice from the wicked witch of Europe uncomfortably slides into my ear.

“Ah, you two started dinner without me?” Cristina yelps.

Imogen closes her eyes, her smile now forced as Cristina takes the seat at the head of the table.

“Oh, yum, pasta! Do you mind?” Her eyes move from my plate to mine before she grabs my plate without waiting for my reaction, and then starts eating with my fork.

Imogen is looking at her with disgust, and I do my best to not swipe the plate from the table as a whole.

“I’m sorry.” Cristina’s gaze travels back and forth from mine to Gen’s. “Were you two in the middle of a conversation?”

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