Billion Dollar Fiance 39
He’s undone the first two buttons of his shirt, and I can see his pulse there, pounding beneath the skin.
“What do you usually do now?” I whisper. We’re close enough that my skin is warmed by his exhale.
“See, Maddie, that’s the thing. You’re not like anyone else.”
“The playbook doesn’t apply?”
“It’s tossed out the window.” His arm tightens, pulling me closer. My hands come to rest on the hard planes of his chest.
“Liam….”
“Mhm?” He bends his head to mine, our foreheads touching. We’ve kissed before, but it’s never been like this-when the anticipation alone is enough to set my skin blazing.
“I want you,” I whisper.
A small smile and then my eyes flutter closed, because he’s closing the distance between us. He kisses me carefully, like he’s afraid I might pull away. Like he’s unsure I really want this.
But his hands grip my waist like retreat isn’t an option.
His lips raise goose bumps on my arms, send liquid fire through my veins. I want more, and at the same time, I never want him to stop kissing me just like this.
Like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
Liam’s lips ghost across mine. “You taste like champagne,” he murmurs.
“I do?” I kiss him again, the movement like coming home. “You taste like something I should have had a long time ago.”
Liam groans low in his throat and kisses me with such force that I’m bent backwards, both of his arms circling my waist. Our tongues meet and my nerves melt away like snow in April, flooding and settling lower down, to where my body is starting to ache.
Liam doesn’t stop kissing me. He alternates between long and fast, between light and deep, until I feel like my lips are swollen.
When I come up for air, the lighting in the room has dimmed, like the world itself has narrowed to just the two of us.
“Did you turn down the lights?”
Liam’s smile is a bit feral. “There’s a switch right here.”
“We should write Cole a thank-you card later.”
“He should thank us,” Liam corrects. “We’re testing out these beds for him.”
“Taking one for the team.” I swing one leg over his, straddling him.
His hands settle on my hips. “One could even say it’s our civic duty. We wouldn’t want some unsuspecting tourist to break the bed and a bone, now would we?”
“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Liam kisses me again, the soft scratch of his beard against my face.
I revel in the feel of it under my hands, as I slide fingers along his jaw. Everything about him is different. Masculine.
“When did you get like this, huh?”
He switches from my mouth to my cheek, kissing a line to my ear. “Like what?”
“So broad.” My hands grip his shoulders.
He laughs softly against my skin. “That’s just nature, sweetheart.”
“There’s nothing just about it.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
His hands slide to my hips, his legs flexing beneath me. “And when did your body grow the perfect handholds?”
“Sophomore year of college.”
Liam snorts and leans back against the headboard. His eyes are slitted, and something moves in them that’s stirring the same force in me. “I have half a mind to have you right here, sitting like this, so we can talk while we fuck.”
I don’t look away, even as the words make my insides flare. “Talking, huh?”
“Talking,” he confirms. “I want to hear you tell me what you like. What feels good.”
“You want me to keep up a running narration?”
A corner of his lip quirks, and my insides tighten as his hands smooth up the sides of my waist. His thumbs graze the underside of my breasts.
“I sure as hell wouldn’t complain if you did,” he says. “But I’ve changed my mind. I told you I’d peel you out of this dress, and I’m not doing it sitting like this.”
I yelp as he flips us over, as I find myself stretched out horizontally on the larger-than-life bed. Liam’s hands are everywhere, running up the slit in my dress and tracing the length of my arm. “You tell me,” he murmurs. “Remember?”
“I remember,” I whisper.
“Because if this is a group project, it’s something we’re both getting an A in.”
I bite my lip, but my smile comes out anyway. “We always did work well together.”
“We always did.” He pulls me up, my hair tumbling around me as we stand next to the bed.
“The zipper is in the back.” I sweep my hair out of the way. His hands are strong and sure as it’s tugged down, and warm as they smooth over my arms to push the fabric away. It falls into a pool of red at my feet.
My chest rises and falls with the force of my breathing.
“Stunning,” Liam says, running his hands down my arms. My strapless bra is more like a bustier, the panties matching. It had felt like vain folly when I’d put them on this morning, but standing now in front of him, I feel beautiful.
I turn around and meet his dark gaze. “Thank you for the dress.”
“No,” he says. “Thank you.”
My smile is coy as I focus on undoing his buttons. His breath is coming fast, too, beneath his shirt. As it falls off him, I run my hands over the strong chest, the hard stomach, the indentions at his hipbones.