“You stole my heart then gave yours to someone else.” Stepping back, he nods toward the floor. “On your knees.” When I don’t immediately move, he pulls me up by the arms. “Down, right now.”
His authoritative tone makes my knees buckle. I lift my chin, and my gaze is eye-level with his confident hands as he reaches for the zipper of his pants. He takes out his cock before rubbing his thumb across my parted lips, leaving my scent in his wake.
“This pretty little mouth is going to take every inch,” he rasps, eyes locking with mine as he gathers my thick hair into one hand. There’s nothing slow or careful or respectful about the way he fists the base of his massive erection and guides the tip between my lips.
His pace is slow at first, shallow as he pushes the plump head against my tongue. A gentle thrust brings him deeper, his grip on my hair pulling my lips down his impressive length.
He sucks in a breath. “God, I’ve missed your mouth.” Pushing even deeper, his hold is absolute, the need to conquer and punish urging him on. His possessive nature drives him, the unstoppable force of dominance boiling in his blood. But underneath his thirst for power, I sense something else.
Something far more dangerous.
He’s incapable of holding himself back, the last few weeks pushing him to the brink of indecency. I held out too long, my ripped and indecisive heart brewing a storm in him.
“Sweetest hell,” he groans, flinging his head back. “You suck me so damned good. Every inch, my sweet, precious girl.”
Growing delirious and dizzy, I brace myself against his thighs as he pushes past my tonsils. His stamina is an endless vow, an endowing gift, an empowering display of a vulnerable man. He has me right where he wants me, uncontrollably gagging as my knees dig into the floor, but his throaty moans give me all the power—a fact detected in the frustrated, unstoppable shout escaping him as he takes his pleasure and his vengeance.
It’s deja vu, and in that moment, on my knees with my mouth used and abused, I realize we’ve come full circle. Only I’m not innocent like I was the first time, because an intact hymen is just a technicality.
This man is the master thief of my innocence all over again.
In the aftermath, he slips from my mouth before hauling me into his arms and drawing me into a tender kiss. The strokes of his tongue are as gentle as his cock was vengeful, as unhurried as his thrusts were desperate.
But no less earth shattering.
Long minutes pass before he inches back. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
“For realizing the truth.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the way you love me,” he says, pushing his thumb between my lips. “From your mouth to your conscionable heart.”
Another piece of the treacherous organ in my chest cracks. “This isn’t fair to any of us.”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger against my mouth. “Lock up the guilt and regrets for the night.”
“And what about tomorrow?”
“By morning, you won’t be coherent enough to feel anything but satisfied.”
“Liam—”
Cutting off my response, he flings me over his shoulder and heads down the hall.
8
By the time we enter the bedroom, the thunder has calmed, unlike the desire boiling in my veins. I left my shame somewhere on the dining room floor, discarded as quickly as my dress and undergarments. After shedding his own clothes, Liam sets me on the bed before grabbing his belt off the floor. With a snap, he pulls the leather strap tight.
“What are you doing?” I scoot back, sliding my butt along the velvety comforter, my heels digging into the mattress.
“Teaching you a lesson in delayed gratification, though you’re already an expert at it.” With a rakish grin, he climbs onto the end of the bed and turns me onto my stomach. His voice is decisive as tells me to tuck my knees and raise my ass. I’m tense with expectation, arming myself for that first painful strike as he settles behind me.
But the pain of his belt never comes, and I give myself a mental kick for anticipating it. This is Liam—the man who couldn’t bring a belt to my ass even when he thought I deserved it. The only punishment he’s about to dish out is one of pervasive pleasure. Confirming my suspicions, he drags my arms behind my back and wraps that pliant strap around my wrists.
“Does this make you feel helpless, my sweet girl?”
“Yes,” I breathe, feeling like easy prey caught in a Venus flytrap.
“Are you wet from sucking me off?”
“You know I am.”
Two fingers run the length of my drenched slit, and I groan.
“Your greedy pussy is begging to come.” He pushes a digit into me, and I arch into his touch with a whimper.
“Hold still,” he says, smacking my ass. “You’re going to take everything I give you.” He slips in and out of me, his fingers wet and warm.
A distant flash of lightning brightens the room for a moment, leaving me in a dream-like state of mind. Warmth gathers low in my stomach, shooting tingles down my thighs. The pressure amps up, and I wish I could clutch the bedding. Keeping my ass raised right where he wants it puts an unbearable strain on my cuffed wrists.
“This pussy’s about to gush for me.” Driving his point home, he crooks a finger inside me, and I cry out as I drip down his hand.
Still, the pressure intensifies. “Please, Liam.”
“Hush,” he murmurs, landing a smack on my ass that’s louder than his command. “You’ll come when I allow it.”
His ministrations continue tortuously slow, each stroke designed to bring me that much closer without allowing a plummet into ecstasy. But the more I beg, the longer he keeps me on the edge.
Except for the occasional flash of lonely lightning—a muted brightness in the distance through the picture window—shadows casts the bedroom in a sense of anonymity. It makes it easier to shed my conscience and unload the burden of my heart as I near climax for the fifth time.
“Let me come,” I gasp. “Please, Liam…I’ll do anything.”
He brushes his slick fingers over my back hole. “Will you give this to me?”
His question hits me like a sucker punch, awakening the ghost of Sebastian in the haunted quarters of my mind. It’s impossible to cast out the memories—not the adoration in his eyes the first time he entered me. Not his careful, patient thrusts that made us one body. Definitely not the way he made it special for me.
Sebastian Stone made himself irreplaceable that night.
“Let me go.” I pull at the belt around my wrists to no avail.
“I won’t let you run from this.”
“Liam, I don’t—”
“You’re a little tied up, my sweet girl.” Slowly and painfully, his thumb presses into my ass. “Powerless to stop me.”
He won’t stop. He told me as much, made it a point to warn me.
And I didn’t listen.
“I mean it,” I say, the tremor in my voice betraying the fear clawing inside me. “Don’t force me into this.”
“I’ll make it feel good. You don’t have to be scared.”