by RC Boldt
A muscle in his jaw works, rapidly flexing as if it’s attempting to offer its own explanation.
This time, his voice deepens to a low, gravelly tone that sends shivers down my spine. “I shouldn’t.” I wonder if he’s saying this for my benefit…or his own.
He shifts slightly to allow the pad of his thumb to graze over my bottom lip. His attention stays riveted to the action, and when an impulse has me gently raking my teeth over it, his nostrils flare, gaze turning molten.
In an instant, he reclaims my mouth, his tongue delving inside to slide against mine. It has my entire body clenching in need, and I realize I want more than a kiss from this man.
So much more.
As I leave a mere fraction of space between us, our ragged breaths are nearly deafening in the confines of the kitchen. Golden-brown eyes blaze with intensity, giving me the impression he’s somehow peering right through me.
He feathers his lips over mine, his whispered words filled with torment. “This is a bad idea.”
I swallow hard. “Because?”
I can’t resist nipping gently at his bottom lip before soothing it with my tongue. Lust-filled eyes hold mine captive as his fingers sink into my hair, thumbs skimming along my cheeks.
“I don’t want to hurt you even more.” His gruff words sound as though they’re being ripped from him against his will.
“You won’t,” I whisper, tracing my finger along his bottom lip. “Somehow, I know you won’t.”
Emotions churn in the depths of his gaze, and I place a gentle kiss on his lips. “I want this, Liam.” Another featherlight kiss. “I want you.”
A feral sound erupts from deep in his chest an instant before he takes my mouth again, our tongues twining and tasting deep. I clutch at his firm biceps, and he lifts me to the counter, moving between my legs.
His kiss unleashes an urgent need within me to get closer and feel his skin against mine. My brazen hands dive beneath the hem of his cotton shirt, molding against his solid abdominals. Heat radiates from him, and I wish nothing separated our bodies.
As if he’s privy to my thoughts, he draws back to tug off his shirt. He lets it drop to the floor, baring his beautiful dark bronze skin. But it’s the presence of those scars and jagged cuts that calls to me. Is this why pain lingers within him? Did he escape his past to come here and do good?
Without thought, I lean forward and place a kiss over one scar beneath his collarbone. Then the next. The others, out of reach of my lips, I graze with my fingertips, wishing I could’ve soothed away his pain back then.
When I reach the waistband of his board shorts, large hands take hold of my wrists, stopping me. Meeting his eyes, I notice his tortured expression co-mingles with blazing arousal.
His hand slides to my nape, fingers tangling in my hair, drawing it tight. He tugs my head back, a harsh expletive falling from his lips before he rakes his teeth along the side of my neck.
I clutch at his firm biceps, arching into his touch while my pussy grows even wetter, aching with need.
“Liam.” His name emerges in a breathless gasp as I silently beg him for more.
His response rumbles up from deep within his chest as his other hand glides down my hip to splay over one thigh. That large palm rasps over the exposed skin at the hem of my shorts, fingers dipping beneath the fabric to offer teasing strokes.
He’s so close to where I want him yet still too far. A disgruntled sound claws up my throat and his mouth curves against the sensitive skin just below my ear. “If there’s something you want, you’ve gotta say it.” His tone dances over me, abrading my skin in a decadent way all its own.
When he scrapes his hand up my leg to toy with the elastic of my panties, it’s impossible to suppress my whimper. His fingers dip beneath it, grazing my mound but not touching where I need him most.
Liam nips at my earlobe, his warm breath kissing my skin. “You need to tell me, Alex.” Those fingers trace a tantalizing path, taunting me. Need floods my veins, and I turn my head, capturing his mouth with mine.
Our kiss is fiery, filled with desire and urgency. Without breaking contact, we shift slightly, our mouths slanting to draw deeper tastes. I guide his hand farther beneath my shorts, pressing his fingers to my slick opening.
As soon as he encounters my wetness, he groans against my lips, and the kiss turns fiery hot, practically singeing me through to my core.
He speaks against my mouth, his voice husky. “Is this what you need?” He nudges a finger barely inside, the tip circling my entrance in an exaggeratedly slow manner.
I gasp. “Please.”
“Is that all you need?”
My hips move of their own accord, attempting to urge him deeper, but he resists.
“You need to say it.”
I meet his smoldering eyes. “I need you to touch me.” I swallow hard. “More.”
His eyes turn a brighter golden hue. “Yeah? Like this?” He slides a thick finger inside me, and my lips part on a silent moan.
“Fuck,” he grits out from between clenched teeth. His eyes gloss over my face before dropping to where my hard nipples press through the tank top and T-shirt, practically begging for attention.
When he mutters, “You’ll be the death of me,” my own gaze drifts lower to find a prominent bulge in his shorts. A heady sense of power pulses through me at the sight, knowing I’m the cause.
A rough sound erupts from deep within his chest when I move my hips, trying to urge his finger in deeper. “Please,” I beg shamelessly. “I need more.”
He slides his finger from me, and I can’t stifle my sound of protest, but it dies when he jerks my shorts and panties down my hips. I shift on the counter, helping him tug them off.
He grasps each of my ankles, guiding them up to plant my feet flat against the counter. Urging me to spread wider, he smooths his callused palms along the inside of my thighs, and I acquiesce.
Gently, he skims his hands to the crease of my inner thighs, parting my outer lips with his thumbs. “Christ. Prettiest goddamn pussy I’ve ever seen.” Spoken in a hoarse whisper, his coarse words weave a seductive web around me. A thrill runs through me because he’s granting me a view of his other side.
This isn’t Liam King, the doctor. This isn’t Liam King, the man in charge of my care.
This is Liam King, the man. The man who wants me as much as I want him.
He may not realize it, but by openly expressing his arousal, he’s giving back a little bit of power to me.
To a woman who’s been held captive in a powerless situation.
Chapter 39
LIAM
So slick and perfect, my mouth fucking waters to get a taste of her.
I fit my lips to hers again in a kiss that’s rough and so goddamn needy, but I’m on a hair trigger right now. I fucking need her, and I haven’t needed anyone before.
Ripping my lips from hers, I bury my face in her neck, raking my teeth along her skin before soothing it with my tongue. “Do you have any idea how much I need you?”
My voice sounds raspy, as if it’s been dragged from deep within me. “How badly I need this”—I trace my fingertip along her opening, and she whimpers—“sweet pussy? That I’m dying to see how you taste?”
She arches into my touch, gasping when my fingertip dips inside, just barely. “Yes, Liam.”
I nudge my finger farther inside, and Jesus fuck, she drenches it. “You’ve been driving me out of my goddamn mind.”
Her whisper is barely audible. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” I sink my finger all the way inside, and she gasps. “You’re sorry for being so beautiful?” Easing back, I pulse it in and out of her snug pussy, my eyes locked on her expression. “You’re sorry for flashing me those innocent eyes and trying to hide those perfect tits?”
When I add another finger, she clutches at my arms. “Are you sorry for making me so goddamn hard by just breathing?” I finger-fuck her in slow glides. “For making me fuck my hand i
n the shower, wishing it was you?”
Her lashes flutter in surprise, and a flush rises on her cheeks. “You did that?”
I grunt. “Fuck, yes.” I pump my fingers in and out a few more times before withdrawing them, coated in her wetness. Then I bring them to my mouth and suck her taste off them.
Her eyes lock on me, widening when I groan as her flavor explodes on my tongue. Goddamn, does she taste good.
My words come out as a harsh-sounding growl when I draw my fingers from my lips. “You’ve been keeping this from me.”
“Sorry?” Her response emerges as more of a question than a stated apology.
I grab her hand and guide her to where my dick is practically bursting through my board shorts. She molds her fingers around my thick length, and my cock leaks at the tip.
“Feel how hard you make me? You’ve got my dick so amped that I’m leaking, aching like hell to bury myself inside you.” With my hand over hers, I guide her to stroke me through the fabric where there’s now a damp spot. “If you’re so sorry, then you won’t mind showing me those beautiful tits.”
With movements bordering on clumsy, she uses both hands to fist the bottom hem of her shirt and tank top, tugging them off to bare her breasts.
My breath lodges in my lungs at the sight of her, and I can’t help but stare. Her nipples stand so proudly, dark pink, and so goddamn perfect.
“I’m not…that attractive. I know.”
Her muted words have my eyes snapping up to find her own averted, lips pressed together tightly. Conflicting emotions churn within me as I survey her troubled expression and then her torso. As visible reminders of what she’s endured, those scars stand proudly, marking her flesh.
Moving my hands to her hips, I tug her closer to me, her legs dangling on either side of mine. My action startles her, and she grasps at my shoulders to steady herself.
Eyes boring into hers, my tone brooks no argument while I glide my hands up along her sides, my palms rasping over her skin, my fingertips tracing each scar reverently. “These are marks of survival. What tried to kill you but failed.”
My throat grows painfully tight, and I swallow hard. “But you proved to be stronger.”
I can only hope you’ll maintain that same strength.
Vulnerability fills her features as she peers at me, her voice barely audible. “You don’t think they’re ugly?”
What sounds much like a growl rises from deep within me. “Woman, don’t ever say that again.” Muscles wrought with both tension and carnal intent, I’m filled with the urge to prove to her just how not ugly she is.
Her eyes widen at my tone, and I smooth my hands upward, molding them to the curves of her breasts. Her nipples bead tighter against my palms, and she instinctively arches into my touch.
“No part of you is ugly, you hear me?” I grit out the words from between clenched teeth.
Cupping the underside of one breast, I duck my head and capture her nipple with my lips and suck hard. When she gasps my name, it has my dick leaking even more.
I bat at her nipple with my tongue before sucking it, hollowing out my cheeks, and her knees clench at my sides. Christ, her nipples are so sensitive, I could easily spend hours tasting and toying with them. I move to the other and give it the same treatment, reveling in being the cause of her heaving breaths.
When her hand drifts down my bare chest and over my abs, my muscles contract in anticipation. But before she can reach her destination, I clasp her wrist in one hand, stopping her.
This might be the biggest motherfucking mistake I make—in fact, I’m pretty damn sure it already is—but I don’t want to fuck her on my kitchen counter.
I want her in my bed. I want the fantasy to come to life.
At her questioning look, I press a quick kiss to her lips—what was meant to be a quick one. But once I get another taste of her, I can’t help but deepen it. Christ, she’s addictive.
Finally, I force myself to break the kiss and gently lift her. She automatically wraps her legs around me, looping her arms around my neck. But the real dealbreaker is how wet she’s making the spot below my navel and just above my board shorts. Her slick pussy is marking its own territory, and my dick has zero problems with it.
As I step into the hallway, she fastens her lips to my earlobe. When she gives it a little suck before gently nipping it, I nearly say to hell with making it to the bedroom. I can shove my shorts down and drive my cock inside her right against the wall.
Make it to the bedroom, asshole.
I’m not sure how I power through, but I finally make it inside my room, easing her onto the bed. She lies bare and beautiful, her eyes filled with emotions I don’t deserve.
Alex is beautiful and dangerous, and she may be the death of me, but right now, I don’t fucking care.
I’d rather die knowing how it feels to experience the next best thing to heaven.
Chapter 40
ALEXANDRA
Liam’s eyes sweep over me with a reverence that robs me of breath. He doesn’t regard me with even an ounce of distaste, as though every mark upon my body makes me more desirable.
When those eyes return to mine, he never looks away while he unfastens his board shorts and shoves them down his slim hips.
When he wraps his fingers around his hard cock and gives it a slow tug upward, I suck in a sharp breath. Wetness slicks between my thighs, and my nipples tighten in anticipation and want.
Leisurely working his cock, he grows even thicker while I watch. As though it’s been carved from stone, each cut and curve of his muscled body painstakingly hewn to showcase his exquisite masculine splendor.
He fists his length, moisture leaking at the tip, and my breath is yanked from me. Arousal unfurls within me, sending wanton hunger searing through my veins.
His tone is hushed. “I’m clean. If you want me to grab a condom, I will. It’s your call.”
He also knows that I have an IUD and that I’m also clean. And I know he keeps condoms on hand for patients so they don’t have to make the trek to the nearest pharmacy nearly an hour away.
Then his expression flickers with something I can’t quite decipher. “And I’ve had a vasectomy.”
If the circumstances were different, I might give pause to his admission of having had a vasectomy. I might give more consideration to why he made that choice. But I don’t have the right to question him…and it doesn’t matter.
One thing I’ve learned over the past few months—what I’ve learned from waking up without any recollection of who I am—is that nothing in life is guaranteed.
If this is the single moment I’m granted with him, then I want nothing between us.
“I want you.” My voice may be softly spoken, but it’s firm with intent. “Just you.”
His eyes blaze, his hand stuttering briefly before resuming its slow stroke upward and dragging his thumb over the veined head. “You like watching me?” His abdominal muscles contract while those in his strong thighs bunch.
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“Show me.” His gaze flits to the apex of my thighs where I’m visibly wet with want. A muscle flexes in his jaw, eyes blazing. “That’s it. Show me how much you like watching me do this.” He fists the base, those strong fingers holding tight, as he strokes from root to tip.
Widening my legs a fraction more seems to set him on edge. The air grows thick with unadulterated want. Carnal need. His eyes burn bright, nostrils flaring, and the muscles in his arms flex.
He climbs between my thighs, his movements resembling that of a stealthy wild animal creeping upon its prey. Except, in this case, I anticipate being in his crosshairs. I want it. Ache for it with every molecule of my body.
Kneeling between my legs, he maintains a firm grip on his cock. Gaze never leaving mine, he delivers a firm tap of the thick, flared head against my pussy, right overtop my clit.
The action drags a gasp from me, sending a rash of tremors through my body. Overwhelming need takes ho
ld, and a whimper drifts past my lips when he taps my clit again and again.
Arousal licks through my veins like wildfire. “Please.” I need him to release this tension within me.
He drags the flared head through my slick folds, eyes gauging my reaction. “Is this what you need?” He nudges inside me slightly and I rock my hips, urging him on.
Bracing a hand at my side, he inches deeper, and my hands move of their own volition, coasting over his back. When he sinks in further, our breaths echo within the room, accompanied only by the rain that pings against the roof.
I grow wetter around him, my clit pulsing in time to my rapid heartbeat. His jaw works, his body taut as he peers down at me, and I cling to him wantonly.
Legs wrapped around his hips, I silently urge him on. He sinks a little deeper, a groan erupting from him. His words rasp with arousal, possessing the tiniest thread of underlying affection that steals my breath. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Then he lowers his head, and our mouths collide in a wet kiss filled with frantic need as he begins to move. With each hot grind of his cock, our kiss grows hungrier, teeth clinking without care, tongues gliding and tangling.
Surging in and out of my needy flesh, he breaks our kiss and brings his mouth to my ear. “Fuck… You feel so fucking good. All that tightness wrapped around me.” His voice is ragged, and it thrills me to know that I have this effect on him.
When he rocks his hips, the decadent sensation of his thick, rigid flesh robs me of breath. My inner muscles flutter around him, then I grow even wetter. His resounding groan tells me he’s noticed.
His hot breath fans against the shell of my ear. “You trying to ruin me with your sweetness?” A touch of resentment colors his words, but I can’t make sense of it. “Goddammit, woman.” It sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. “I wanna fuck you so hard…like I imagined.” A harsh breath expels from his lips. “But I can’t. Don’t want to hurt you.”