Liam doesn’t stop, speeding up and fucking me even harder than before. His tongue drags down my neck, and his free hand tugs my dress down, revealing my breasts. I’ve never been more grateful for skipping a bra, because he takes no time lapping at my nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. I groan and lace my fingers through his hair, holding him close.
It's all too much for me.
The hot heat of his mouth on my nipples, the rough, deep grunts he lets out each time he buries himself in me, and the way his thumb massages my clit with precise care. I cry out in pleasure as I climax, chills running through my body and my heart pounding as the ecstasy overtakes me.
“There it is.” He grins, grabbing my hips and tugging me back onto his cock. “Fuck, Harlow. I’m getting close.”
I pull his head back by his hair and look at him. “Come inside me, Liam. I’ve wanted you to fill me for so long.”
His face contorts, and his fingers dig deeper into my skin as his movements grow shorter. When his hips jerk erratically, I see the look of pleasure cross his face. He comes hard, burying his face in the crook of my neck and practically slamming me against the wall. He growls as he finishes.
The two of us are left breathless, coming down from the high. I brush my hair from my face and look down at him. There’s something about him that’s gotten a complete hold over me. I’ve never done anything like this, but with Liam, it doesn’t feel bad. Rather than saying anything, I lean in and kiss him again. He smiles against my lips before returning the gesture.
“You’re a bad girl, Ms. Knight,” he teases.
“You’re a bad influence,” I say, easing off him and sliding my panties back up. My dress is all wrinkled, but I try to fix it and flatten it out with my hands.
“Does this mean you accept my apology?” he asks, smiling up at me while zipping his slacks up.
I want to say yes, but I don’t want to let him have this too easily. Instead of giving him an answer, I shrug and readjust the front of my dress.
“We'll see,” I say. Liam opens his mouth to say something else, but the door down the hall opens and the woman from the bar—Destiny—comes walking through. She looks both ways, then smiles when she sees Liam.
“There you are!” She giggles, heading our way. “Everyone was wondering where you ran off to.”
“Just having to chat with my editor, Harlow,” Liam says, clearing his throat and taking a step away from me. That hurts a little more than I want to admit, but I straighten up and smile.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything too important,” Destiny says. She gives me a slow look, then turns back to Liam.
“What do you need, Destiny?” he asks pointedly.
“I have a few friends who want to meet you. Huge fans actually.”
“Is that so?” He rubs his hand over his jaw. I've seen him do that during our FaceTime sessions and I'm starting to think it's one of his nervous ticks. Destiny bites down on her lower lip and smiles seductively. I want to smack that stupid smile right off her fake-tanned face. He turns toward me, giving me an apologetic smile. I can tell he doesn't want to go with her, but if he doesn't, there's no doubt she'll continue to follow him around like a lost puppy. “I'll see you a little later tonight?” he asks me. “We can finish discussing our plans.”
I nod, forcing out a professional response. “Sure, we can talk about it later. Go have fun.” I emphasize my last sentence with a painful smile.
“Perfect. Right this way,” Destiny says, interrupting our unspoken stares as she hooks her arm through his and drags him back to the party. She looks over her shoulder at me, this time without the smile on her face, a death stare in its place. Once they disappear down the hall, I sigh and lean against the wall.
“What the fuck did I just get myself into?” I wonder aloud.
9
Harlow
As I head back into the party, the reality of what Liam and I did begins to sink in. If the late-night chats or Skype calls were wrong, none of that compares to what I’m feeling now. I’ve never felt this combination of emotions. Guilt is the first one I recognize.
We've crossed a line, and there's absolutely no way to go back now. Liam is my client, and it's unethical to engage in this kind of relationship with him. I'm in a position of power, able to sway him one way or the other with how he treats me. Did I abuse that power by crossing those boundaries and essentially sleeping with him? Yes.
The second emotion is anger. Anger at myself for letting things get this far. I should’ve stopped while we were ahead. The second he started talking about me needing a man that could handle me, I should’ve driven the conversation back to work. If Kristen finds out about this and fires me, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
Excitement is the last emotion. What Liam and I just did was incredible. The Skype sex was the hottest thing I'd ever done, but even that couldn't compare to having Liam inside me. The way his body felt against mine, how his mouth felt all over me. What's worse than guilt or anger is the knowledge that despite how dangerous and inappropriate our relationship is, I'd still let him fuck me again, consequences be damned.
I need a drink.
Taking a seat at the bar again, I order the same drink as before. The bartender looks amused, and I try to offer a light smile. He hands over a small shot glass and wipes down the counter.
“Long night?” he asks with an amused grin. I’m sure he’s used to people like me drinking their feelings.