Page 73 of Taming Liberty

“I don’t care.”

“We should get a room…”

She glances out all the windows before looking at me again, excitement dancing in her pretty blue eyes.

I kiss her, bringing her body close to mine. When my tongue prods her lips, she opens up for me and starts rocking her hips without me needing to say a word.

I wish we’d gotten the hotel room first. But no fucking chance are we stopping now.

Her mouth breaks away from mine to draw in a big breath like I’d been sucking up all her oxygen. I give in to the temptation and close my eyes as my cock glides in and out of her warm, wet pussy.

I ease my grip on her hips and let her take over fully. I have a hell of a time giving Lib control, but she seems to always manage to take it. I would never admit it aloud, but I love it. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever known, and her ability to tame me gives me a respect for her that I have for no one else.

I fucking love her.

My eyes clench, and a tingle spreads from my spine to every cell in my body. I still her on top of me as I fill her with my cum, a low grunt coming from deep in my throat.

Lib lays her head on my shoulder and breathes heavily, her arms lazily draped around me.

“Fuck, that was good,” she says, chuckling slightly. I think she likes this, fucking when there’s a chance we’ll get caught. I doubt she’d ever admit it.

“Yeah,” I agree, trying to catch my breath. I relish in the scent of her hair as I slide my hands over her back. “So fucking good.”

The powerful smell of sex and sweat in the cramped space mixed with Lib’s sexy pussy on me is enough for my body heat to rise all over again, wanting more. I nuzzle her ear, savoring the scent before pulling away and nudging her shoulder so she’ll look at me. I give her a quick, passionate kiss, then pull away, holding her head in my hands.

“I’m going to go get a room.”

16

Lib

Angel lazily rubs my shoulder while he stares at the TV. We’re watching an old black and white movie in a language neither of us can understand—without subtitles, no less—but that somehow makes it better. We have to read the characters’ body language and look closely at everything on the screen, searching for context.

Angel has a leg up on me because he’s seen this movie before, when he was a child and had his mother to translate the Greek language. Still, I don’t think he understands most of it.

We’ve watched multiple films just like this over the last few days. We’ve also canoed at El Retiro Park, visited a national archaeology museum as well as a cathedral and the Temple of Debod. We’ve had dinner at fancy restaurants and lunch at cafes. He’s shown me hole in the wall places only natives know about and taken me to touristy places I didn’t visit the last time I was here. He’s told me a hundred stories about his mother and his childhood, while somehow managing not to bring his father or older brother up once. And, of course, we’ve fucked. A lot.

The first and second day of us staying in this hotel, I thought maybe he was giving his father some space to allow him to cool off. Day three, I thought maybe he was waiting for an apology, determined not to be the first to give in.

But now it’s day four, and it’s becoming pretty clear he’s simply hiding from his family. This is not a vacation. I wish it was, because if it was, it’d be perfect. If he’s hiding from his family,I’mhiding from the fact that I’m his prisoner. I swear, it’s ridiculous how many times I’ve forgotten I should hate him.

Naomi is going to kill me for not escaping while I have the chance, but I meant it when I told Angel I wouldn’t try anything here. I’m not sure he would even try to stop me, but it doesn’t matter either way. I can’t leave without the other women, knowing what Sawyer might do if he felt threatened by my potential contact with the authorities. I could put them in danger.

There’s also this part of me, a part growing by the second, that doesn’t want to leave anyway. I would never choose to be a whore or a slave, but I would choose to be with Angel. This moment, right now, doesn’t feel so bad.

With my head resting on his chest, I stare up at him while he watches the movie. He seems interested in it, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that tells me he’s thinking about his mother. All the time we’ve spent here, and he’s seen her for what? Ten minutes?

It’s time to stop hiding.

Just as I open my mouth to speak, Angel’s phone vibrating on the nightstand stops me. I lift up and turn toward it, but Angel snatches it up and clicks ignore before I can see who it is. He brings it in front of him, shuts it off, then tosses it back onto the nightstand.

“Who was it?” I ask, pulling the sheet up to my chest and tucking loose hair behind my ear.

“No one.”

My head sags to one side like my neck is too tired for his bullshit. “No one?”

He’s staring at the TV, but he briefly glances at me before going back to it. “Just work. Don’t worry about it,” he says, his voice firm in a way that tells me to drop it.

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