Even though it’s wrong, I need to feel this.
Liam’s arms go around me and his mouth rests on my temple. “Jesus Lucy.”
He rubs his head, as if he’s trying to get his bearings. I don’t want that, though. I nuzzle up against his chest, then wrap an arm around his waist, easing my hand up his shirt, so I can stroke the warm, hard muscle of his back. I can feel chills under my fingertips.
Liam groans. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Same here,” I whisper.
“Lucy?” he says.
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t answer for a long time, just breathes deeply with his face against my shoulder. I trail my hand over his hip and up his rock-hard lower abs, and my wrist brushes the erection pushing at his pants. Now that he’s like this, so still and somber, all I want to do is make him moan.
My heart races as I stroke him through his pants, and Liam’s breathing grows heavier. With his face still warm against my collarbone, he lets out another groan. My free hand finds his nipple through his shirt and pinches.
“Fuck.” His body shudders, then—in the work of a second, and his two strong hands—I’m on my back; Liam’s between my legs, kissing my throat so hard I cry out. Between kisses: “Christ, Lucy. Tell me to stop.”
All I can do is moan as his mouth tortures me. I arch beneath him, praying that he peels my clothes off next. I tug his hair and Liam breaks away for a few heavy breaths before his mouth finds my hard nipple through my shirt and bra.
He groans. “I can’t stop.”
“So don’t.”
He presses his forehead against my chest. I wrap my arms around his head. He’s delicious like this, his huge body curved atop mine, held up by his strong arms, his legs heavy in between mine, chest and shoulders heaving with the weight of panted breaths.
I’m wrapping an arm around his big, thick shoulders when Liam draws away and up off me. His face is taut, his eyes nowhere near mine as he gets off the bed and leaves the room.
I find him on a balcony off the living room, leaning against the wooden rail. His hair is down. One of his hands is fisted in it.
“Sorry,” he says as I step onto the porch. He doesn’t look at me.
“Me too.”
He rubs his face and sighs.
“It’s not just you,” I tell him quietly.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he turns around to face me, his eyes are burning with desire—yet he looks tired. Exhausted. “I’m not usually this way.”
I’m not sure what he means exactly, but I feel the need to reassure him, so I lift one shoulder and say, “It’s okay. I’m not usually this way either.”
Liam shakes his head, then leans it back and shuts his eyes. “My mother died here,” he says, rubbing at his neck.
“She did?”
His lips press tightly together as he stares at something right beside me. “The press said ‘on one of the family’s private islands’, but it was this one.” He gives a bitter smile. “This one was my parents’ favorite. I don’t come here often now.”
“Of course not.”
His eyes finally come to mine, and he looks lost. My heart bleeds. “Liam…what happened to her?”
“She was pregnant.” His hand moves over his mouth as his bleak eyes hold mine. “She had an aneurism.”
“God. I’m sorry. So sorry.”
He looks down at his boots, his face a mask. “It was unexpected, of course. Ain—my mother’s chief of staff—he brought me here. Over near where we parked today. I think my father had called him, and they were hoping she might still pull through. I was supposed to sit in the car until Ain got me out to see her, but I jumped out about the time they loaded Mum into a helicopter.” I watch his thick throat as he swallows. “She was dead already.”
In the long second of silence that follows, I can almost see him: tiny Liam, watching the sky as a helicopter lifted off with his mom—never to return her. What an awful thing for any child.
One small step, and I’m close enough to wrap my arms around his waist. I drag them up, so I can squeeze his lower back. Liam’s chin is on my hair. He turns his head and rests his cheek there on the top of my head.
I feel him take a heavy breath, and grip him tighter. For the longest time, we’re frozen there. Then, with a murmured “thanks,” Liam pulls away. He’s looking everywhere except my eyes as he steps back, the rail behind him.
I step closer, and he reaches out. I think he’s reaching for me, but I realize that his hand is open and facing out, as if he’s telling me to stop.
“I’m going to kiss you again if you…” He shakes his head.
“Am I tempting?” It’s a stupid thing to say, but I’m the queen of stupid things when I’m rattled.
Liam is nodding. “Yes. So goddamned tempting, Lucille Rhodes.” He grabs me and pulls me close. “I need you up against me.” His lips find my neck. “Everything about you…” He kisses me on the neck, so forceful I groan. “I need you underneath me, Lucy…”
I can’t help myself. I pull him back into the house. We tumble onto the couch. I’m under him and Liam is all over me. Heavy, needy, breathing hard and kissing harder; tugging at my hair as his mouth punishes mine. I can feel him hard and long against my leg. I raise my knee between his legs and Liam grinds into me, groaning.
“Jesus, Lucy…”
I can’t help but reaching down and rubbing him. His eyes close as he thrusts into my hand. I try to grip him through his pants, and when I can’t, I reach inside them, delving past the elastic of his boxer-briefs as Liam unfastens his pants button.
Then I’m reaching in, my fingers encircling his thickness. I’m pumping and he’s groaning. He’s pulling his pants down; I’m going for his balls. I cup them in my hand, then gently tug.
I can feel him shaking, feel his cock twitch.
Liam works my breast, then reaches down to rub me through my pants. He’s quaking like he’s going to come. His cock hardens further in my grasp. Then he draws his hips slightly away.
I’m grabbing for him when his hand invades into my pants, pushing my underwear aside so he can stroke me through my slit: up and down, until I’m gasping. Then he rolls a fingertip around my clit. My body quivers.
“That’s right, Lucy…”
I clamp my knees around his shoulders.
“Oh God! God!”
I feel a finger glide inside me, then his thumb is tracing my clit: smooth, soft circles. He leans down, and I can feel my body melt before his mouth meets me. I see the top of his head, and I know what’s coming. I’m screaming before his tongue is fully down on me, ripples of pleasure bursting through my body.
Then it’s his turn.
I let go of his hair—which at some point, I grabbed hold of—and grab him by the shoulders.
“Sit back.”
He licks his lips, smiling.
“Do it.”
Liam laughs, but he does as I ask. He leans against one arm of the couch, legs out in front. His pants are still unzipped, and I can see his hard cock straining through the cotton of his boxer-briefs.
“I want you,” I breathe.