As if he’s close to breaking through to make way for his cock.
As if he’s close to breaking down the last vestiges of my resistance.
“Liam, please…I can’t.” I shake my head, unable to verbalize the war going on in my mind.
His sigh is one of frustration as he withdraws his fingers.
Immediately regretful, I lurch upright. “Don’t stop.”
“Your body doesn’t want me to, but your head is still saying something else.” He crosses his arms. “Besides, I think it’s my turn this time.”
Intense arousal clouds my thoughts, making it difficult to latch on to what he’s saying. “Don’t leave me like this.”
“You need to earn it.”
“W-what?” I mutter. “Why?”
“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.