Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
We have five more days. Assuming Marlena doesn’t decide to move up her timeline.
“Okay,” I say. “But you’re telling me. Soon.”
“Soon,” he agrees.
“And I’m not running again.”
“You better not be.”
I search his face for any trace of a lie. Find nothing but honesty and relief.
He pulls me down and kisses me. Not soft anymore. There’s heat in it now, five years of longing finally given permission to exist. His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer until there’s no space between us. The blankets slip off my shoulders but I don’t care. His body is warm enough.
His mouth moves to my jaw, my neck, that spot below my ear that he always remembered. I gasp, my fingers fisting in his shirt.
“Liam . . .”
“I’ve got you.” His lips brush my throat. “I’ve always got you.”
We shift on the bed, his body rolling over mine, and the tenderness catches fire. His hands grow bolder, sliding under my shirt, finding skin. I arch into his touch, my own hands working at his clothes, needing to feel him.
He sits up just long enough to pull his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest—the bullet wound from Prague, the knife scar from Lisbon, every mark on his skin a story we share—makes my breath catch.
“I know these scars,” I whisper, tracing them with my fingertips. “I know every one.”
“You were there for most of them.”
“I was.”
He bends down, capturing my mouth again. The gentleness hasn’t disappeared—it’s just burning hotter now, transforming into something else. Something familiar.
He pulls me up, lifts me like I weigh nothing, and carries me toward the kitchen. My legs wrap around his waist. His mouth never leaves mine.
Then I’m on the table, the cool wood against my thighs, and Liam’s eyes go dark with that familiar want. The one that used to make my pulse race back when it was just us against the world.
He pulls me in without a word, his mouth crashing against mine, rough and urgent. My arms wrap around his neck, pressing my body to his, feeling the heat of him through what little we’re still wearing. His hands slide down my sides, gripping my hips, and a few empty mugs scatter to the floor.
I hope Knox doesn’t hear that.
I can feel the cool edge of the table beneath my thighs, but everything else is heat and need. Liam’s fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat, his mouth devouring mine. I can taste the desperation in his kiss, the longing that mirrors my own. My hands fumble with the button of his jeans, eager to get him free.
His hands find the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. Then his fingers hook into my underwear, dragging it down my thighs.
The cabin air bites at my bare skin, but Liam’s touch burns it away. He traces a path up my thighs, his calloused hands rough against my smooth skin. I shiver, anticipation building in my core. This is what I’ve missed—the urgency, the need, the way Liam makes me feel so alive.
His mouth finds mine again, his tongue sweeping in as his fingers find my center. I gasp into his kiss, my body bowing off the table. He swallows my moans, his fingers curling inside me, stoking the fire that’s been building since he first touched me.
I reach for his belt, my fingers clumsy. He helps me, his mouth never leaving mine, his body pressing me back onto the table. I can feel him, hard and ready, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him to me.
“You fucked another man,” he says, nipping at my lip.
“Yes.”
His hand moves to my throat, squeezing. “And you liked it.”
“Loved it,” I gasp.
His grip tightens, not to hurt, but to claim. I can see it in his eyes—he wants to possess me, to remind me I’m his, even if I’ve been with someone else. His jealousy, his anger, his lust—it’s all there, swirling together.
His fingers retreat, leaving me gasping and empty. That wicked curve appears on his lips, the one that promises both pleasure and punishment. He leans down, breath hot on my ear. “I fucked him too. And I loved it.”
“I know,” I moan as he thrusts his finger into my pussy as deep as he can.
His finger withdraws, then plunges back in, setting a rhythm that has my hips lifting to meet each thrust. The pressure builds, the coil of pleasure tightening in my core. Liam’s mouth moves from my ear to my breast, his teeth grazing my nipple. I cry out, the sensation sending shockwaves through me.
“I told you this body was mine,” he says.
His teeth bear down on my nipple, pain mixing with pleasure, driving me wild. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.