Page 83 of Mostly Loathing You

Fluid silk ghosts over my wrist so delicately I almost don’t realize it’s happening. The fabric tightens around my left wrist, causing me to jerk in my hazy half-asleep state. I reach up to scratch my nose, only to realize one of my wrists is now bound to one of the posts at the head of the bed. This startles me, causing me to look frantically around the room. Wide-eyed, I find Liam leaning over me as he affixes my other wrist above my head in a similar fashion to the other.

“What are you doing?” I ask groggily, anticipation building in my stomach at what he might do next. As the silk tightens fully, it also restricts my movement. I can barely move against its restraint, but something tells me that is the point he’s trying to make.

Liam doesn’t respond to my question as he tugs on my wrists, ensuring that the knot of the tie is done properly.

“Are you comfortable?” His eyes twinkle in the moonlight cascading through the window as he looks me over top to bottom, hunger mixed with concern in his gaze.

“About as comfortable as one can be tied to a bed,” I chuckle.

“Do you not want to, then?” He raises his brows. At first, I think he’s taunting me, but then I notice a genuineness in his expression.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Okay, then shut up,” he jokes with a smile before crawling onto the bed next to me. He rests his weight on his elbow as he gazes at me, an expression I can’t quite place plaguing his face. “I’m serious, Hannah. If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, I—”

“I’ll tell you. If you do anything that makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you.”

Liam lets out a relieved exhale, causing me to smile. I watch as his demeanor shifts from doting boyfriend to stern, commanding lover, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t shoot straight to my core in the process.

He shifts again, this time to stand next to the bed. He stares down at me and the only thing I can hear is his breathing mixed with the radiator in the corner kicking on. With every breath he heaves out, my stomach jumps in anticipation. I’m aware of his every move, his every breath, his every being.

“Princess…”

“Hm?” I gaze up at him with hooded eyes, the mixture of darkness and energy consuming the room thrusting me into a dazed state.

“We’ve never…explored our interests together. Yeah, we’ve had sex, but we’ve never pushed each other. I want that to change.” Something in the words he’s saying has my pussy clenching in anticipation. “I’m going to push your body tonight, and I need you to feel empowered to ask me to stop if it’s too much.”

“Didn’t think we should have this conversation before I was tied to the bed?”

“Hannah,” he reprimands me, and I revel in it.

“Fine.” I glare up at him, but it’s all fabricated. I’m completely engrossed in whatever this is, and the anticipation renders me lightheaded.

“What do you want your word to be?”

I linger on it for a moment. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve needed one in the past. Liam is hardly my first partner. However, in this moment, my mind grows blank. I can’t think of a single thing, and I don’t want to say something boring like “banana.”

“It’s not the SATs, Hannah. Pick a fucking word.”

“Seymour,” I blurt out.

As soon as the name leaves my lips, Liam’s brows pinch together.

“You want…your safe word…when having sex with your boyfriend…” He clears his throat as he bites back a grin, clearly amused. “Who, by the way—and I don’t think I should have to say this—is named Liam…you want to use a man’s name?”

“Yes.” I could explain it, I could delve into the significance of the name, but I don’t. It’s more amusing to watch him try to unpack it on his own.

“Okay then, Seymour it is.” He shakes his head as he moves from the edge of the bed and crawls toward me. He doesn’t relax by my side this time, but simply hovers over me. His eyes are glassy in the minimal light, but it’s unmistakable how he’s looking at me right now.

With adoration.

As I think it, I watch his expression shift into something more sinister, more commanding, and I’ll be damned if it’s not the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen.

He places a chaste kiss on my lips before venturing downward, peppering kisses down my neck, down my collarbone, before enveloping his mouth over my semi-hard nipple. Liam swirls his tongue around the sensitive peak, pulling a gasp from me. The sensation is intoxicating as he releases it with a loud pop. Cold air whispers over the damp flesh, leaving my nipple rock-hard in its wake. He pulls away with a smile and devours the other nipple with the same attention, causing me to squirm.

“Liam,” I whine.

He leans forward in response, wrapping his mouth around my nipple once more. This time, he bites. It stings just enough to cause me to yelp. The look he gives me is that of pure triumph; he must have been hoping for this reaction. He smirks at me before looking downward and continuing his descent.

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