I squeeze onto as he pulls my dress up around my belly, hungry to get to my sex. I can read it in him, the desire, the same one that has taken hold of me with fate-fueled hands.
“I’ll take you slowly at first,” he whispers, grinding the head of his cock against my clit, up and down my lips, parting them, playing with them. “And then, when you’re ready for me, I’m going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. Your virgin pussy is eager for me, Lola. I can feel it.”
“I can’t believe how well you can read my body,” I gasp.
“Would you expect anything less? We’re Lola and Liam, and that means something. It always will.”
He holds himself up with one arm and uses his other hand to guide himself to my pussy, pushing the engorged head of his wet, hot cock inside of me.
I gasp and bite down as he fills me, my hole widening so much I can hardly believe it. A sting of pain-tinged pleasure touches me as he pushes deeper, and deeper.
I can’t take this.
He’s too big.
The thought punctures the perfection with the nastiness of a dream-wrecking ball.
Then I feel my hole gush and start to widen, to let him in, a blooming welcome that sends a thousand tingles surging to my pussy.
He leans down and finds my lips. I kiss him back, gasping, drinking in his grunts and moans as he holds himself inside of me, all the way to the hilt.
My clit pulsates and I feel my hole tightening around him, pressing for more pleasure.
He smirks down at me and our eyes meet, a silent communication dancing in the air between us. It’s the sort of thing I only ever imagined long married couples achieving, this way of speaking without saying a word.
But he can read me, and I can read him.
He’s asking me if I’m ready and I nod, letting out a shuddering sigh when he draws his cock slowly out of me and then grinds back in again.
I grab onto his back tightly, digging my fingernails into the solidity of him, remembering how savage and protective he looked in the cage when he fought for my honor.
My man, my man.
The words bounce around in my mind with each thrust getting quicker and deeper as he claims me.
I stroke my hands up to his shoulders, grabbing on as I begin to gyrate in time with his movements, sinking into an irrepressible rhythm that makes me moan and then start to scream.
“Like that?” he growls, thrusting deep, hitting a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed before his engorged cock found it.
“Yes, yes,” I gasp. “Right there. Fuck. Fuck me right there.”
He pounds his cock deeper, harder, the girth of him filling me with tingles and fireworks of euphoria. I clasp onto his face and try to kiss him, but our movements are too chaotic and I miss, ending up with my mouth pressed against the sweet sweaty surface of his stony shoulder instead.
I bite into his unyielding flesh, screaming in muffled ecstasy against him, shifting up and down with the expensive silk sheets sticking to my ass and my thighs.
“Yes, yes,” I cry, letting his shoulder go. “Fricking hell, Liam, I, I …”
“You’re the sexiest damn woman alive,” he growls close to my ear, breath caressing. “I can’t believe you’re mine. I can feel it, Lola. I can feel how close you are.”
I just gasp as my pussy begins to swarm with a million notes of pleasure, each one feeling deeper and more urgent than the last. My vision blurs with sweat and tears of pure pleasure as I grind up and down, as he pushes his massive shaft deeper and more intimately inside of me.
“We’ll finish at the same time,” he snarls. “That way our bodies will know. My seed and your womb. They’ll know to give us a child.”
Yes, I try to pant, but my voice is making funny strangled noises, my pleasure caught somewhere in the back of my throat.
He pumps harder and I shift with him, the bed rocking backwards and forward like any second it could snap under our immense pleasure.
Then, all at once, it’s like the whole world freezes and we’re floating, hanging there in a hot pool of release.
I bite down on his shoulder again, tasting him as my pussy erupts in a crescendo like torrent of pure, shiny pleasure.
I feel my pussy fluttering as I squirt hot juices down his length, the bed already soaked beneath us, and getting wetter, and wetter.
I let go of his shoulder and turn my head, finding his lips, kissing him in the manic movements.
Our teeth click but there’s no pain, just the feeling of rightness as my pussy floods with even more warmth and fire.
Everything in me tenses as another wave of my orgasm strikes me, like lightning, searing every inch of me as Liam’s voice rises all around me in our own self-contained universe.
In this moment, nothing else exists, just us, only us.
Forever.
Then I let out a cry that should bring the ceiling crashing down, it’s so fricking loud.
Liam roars like a lion as he arches his muscular back and drives into me one final time, and then I feel his cock pulsating, his seed writhing up and firing deep inside of me.
I feel my womb tense and get ready for his seed, screaming at me to take it all, every last drop.
And then we both collapse onto the sheets, Liam lying next to me and lifting his arm for me to nuzzle into his embrace.
I lay my head on his heaving chest, my breath coming just as quickly, my vision finally clearing as I feel his heartbeat thumping against my cheek.
“That was …”
“Right,” he finishes, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“Yeah,” I agree.
He glances down the bed. My eyes follow his gaze and then I see it, a petal of red on the sheets, a declaration that Liam just took my virginity. And I gave it to him.
He smirks and kisses the top of my head with surprising tenderness.
“I’m so glad you waited for me, Lola,” he says.
“It could only be you,” I whisper, my cheeks glowing hot as I feel his seed settling in my belly.
“You know what we have to do now, don’t you?” he whispers, moving his hand through my hair, across my scalp, a tingling feeling not unlike the orgasm.
“What?” I murmur.
“We have to tell your father,” he says.
Something drops in my belly, a big heaping of reality into this dream like moment.
“But what if he goes crazy?” I say. “What if he doesn’t approve?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Liam
Lola sits in the plush leather chair opposite me, a sleek wooden table drilled into the floor of the private jet between us.
Caesar's face lit up into a smile when I told him that I’d finally met her, the woman I’d been waiting my whole damn life for.
“Then don’t even think about feeling guilty for taking the jet just for yourselves,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve retired the way you wanted to. You’ve built a multi-million dollar empire. It’s only right that you’ve found a woman to share it with.”
I slapped him on the shoulder, the same way he did with me. “Thank you, Coach,” I said. “When you check your pay packet for this trip, you’ll find a nice bonus in it. And for the rest of the team, too. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Now, Lola and I settle into the plush chairs, our belts strapped as we wait for the plane to take off.
I let my eyes move over her, trying to still the urge to leap across to her. She’s wearing another summer dress, this one with palm-tree patterns on it, light and flowy and driving me feral.
“I think Mom’s suspicious,” she whispers, clawing at the edge of the table as the plane rises into the air smoothly, leaving our Caribbean patch of paradise below us. “I mean, how could she not? I flew here with her and I’m leaving with you. But she didn’t seem mad. More like she was … okay with it?” She giggles, shaking her head. “I think Dad’s going to be the problem, really.”
“He’s a good
man,” I murmur.
“You’ve known him forever, pretty much, right?”
I nod. “We were best friends growing up. We were basically brothers, because I never had a father. He died before I was born and my mother raised me alone.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaning across the table and holding tightly onto my hand. “I didn’t know that.”
I clutch onto her, wondering if now is, finally, the time when I can begin to let a tiny flicker of vulnerability shine through. Just a spot, a subtle shine.
“Thank you,” I say. “My mother was a good woman, but she was busy, working two jobs, so I was often with Seb and his parents. We were inseparable, and then as we got older Seb became more bookish and dedicated to school. Whereas I … Well, I did well in school, but my love was always martial arts. I defended him a few times, from bullies, those pathetic men, like Markus, who think they can treat people any damn way they want just because they’re bigger.”
I tighten my grip on her hand, interlacing my fingers with hers, remembering the way Markus spoke to her in the interview.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, a slight smile on her lips. “You defended my honor, my brave knight.”
I chuckle deeply, shaking my head. “Funny and beautiful? What the hell have I let myself in for?”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Dad really, really cares about you, Liam. He’s not the heart-on-his-sleeve type, but I can tell he does, just whenever you come up in conversation. I’m …”
She trails off. I read her, the almost frantic look in her uniquely colored eyes. The jet gets higher and higher until it no longer rocks, just glides steadily, and then she goes on.
“I’m terrified he’s going to try and force us apart.”
“He won’t,” I say, but then something twists in my gut. “Actually, that’s a lie. And I never want to lie to you, Lola. He might react angrily. I just hope not. He knows me. He knows the type of man I am, and when I tell him that I want to protect you and support you, he’ll know I’m telling the truth.”
She bites her lip, nodding. “He can be a bit…um, stubborn, sometimes?” She giggles, but there’s a world weary note in her tone. “Like my writing career. He thinks I ought to focus on a serious career, rather than thriller writing. He’s right. I know he’s right. There’s no definite future for me and the chances of me getting paid for writing straightaway are so slim. But it’s my passion.”
“And you have to follow it,” I whisper, bringing her hand to my lips and kissing her knuckles, one by one. “It was the same for me when I was eighteen years old, a fire in my belly only MMA could satisfy. If you feel that burning, Lola, you should chase it, and never let anybody tell you not to. I’ll support you. Always.”
She glows, looking so damn womanly for a second I feel something carnal thrumming through me. “But what if I don’t have what it takes?”
“Put in the work,” I say. “And I know you do. I’ve read the stories you posted online, remember. I know you’ve got talent.”
“I still can’t believe you did that,” she says, mock pouting at me. “What if you completely hated them and then had to lie to my face and say you liked them?”
“But I’d never lie to you,” I tell her firmly. “I promise.”
“I actually did have an idea last night,” she says.
That soft glow touches her cheeks, the one that tells me she’s warring with the idea of saying something sassy, but her nerves have the potential to hold her back.
In the end, though, her feistiness breaks through like the sun through cloud.
“Which actually shocked me, because I thought you’d tired me out way too much to have any ideas.”
I smirk and then let out a chuckle, knowing for a fact that if this plane was self-flying I’d be on her again.
But I’m not going to risk the pilots even getting a hint that something’s going on with Lola. I don’t want anybody else even thinking of her like that, ever, because the way her body moves and the panting breaths she makes when she’s caught up in her pleasure are for me, and me alone.
“What was the idea?” I ask.
“I was thinking about how unique it was, JFC holding an event on that island. And then I started thinking what if it was all a ploy, you know, some elaborate ruse to…well, to play with somebody’s head. Admittedly, this idea is barely a sprout at the moment and it needs watering. But I’m sure there’s something there.” She pauses. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
She’s right, I realize.
I’ve been staring at her with intensity flaming in my eyes. I unbuckle my seatbelt and walk around to her side, sitting next to her, placing my hand on her knee and squeezing softly.
“You just looked so damn passionate,” I whisper. “With your words coming out a million miles a minute and your cheeks all flaming red. This is what you’re meant to pursue, Lola. I can see that just by looking at you. And I can help you. I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”
“Do you mean financially?” she mutters, moving her hand across my square jaw as though we’ve known each other for decades. It feels like we have. “Because I’m not sure how I’d feel about that. I mean, I could just write a terrible book but if you bankrolled me, we could get it published, probably. Self-published, but with enough money it would make no difference. But I think I want to do this on my own.”
Pride surges in my chest as the jet surges over the clear crystal ocean.
“Then what about this?” I whisper, leaning close and kissing her on the cheek.
Everything in me roars at me to take her, claim her, now, right fucking now.
I think about the pilots and lean back slightly, forcing myself to be in control.
“Imagine I build you the office of your dreams, and one day I come in to find my best-selling queen sitting at her desk, typing up a storm. And on the other side of the room our little one typing at his or her own desk, dreaming up stories of their own.”
A smile brightens her face, her eyes widening with how badly she wants that scenario, just as badly as I do.
“Wait a second, though. What do you mean little one? You don’t really think I’m going to let you get away with just giving me one baby, huh?”
This woman.
I smirk, even as thoughts of what Seb is going to make of this invade my mind unfairly.
She’s more than I ever could have dreamed for, with her sassiness, her personality transcending her nerves and flaming through in each word and gesture.
“No, of course not,” I tell her. “But the rest of our children are going to be too busy with sports.”
“What?” she giggles, jabbing me playfully in the side. “No way, Liam. Every single one of them is going to be a book nerd like me.”
“No, no,” I laugh, jabbing her right back, and then tickling her side so that giggles dance in the Caribbean sun shining through the jet’s windows. “They’re going to be poorly-read savages, just like they’re old man.”
“Firstly,” she says, pouting up a storm. “You are not an old man. Secondly, you are not poorly-read. You wouldn’t be able to handle your business the way you did if you weren’t a little well read.”
“Hmm, you place a lot of faith in books, Lola.”
She laughs, giving my leg a squeeze that threatens to erupt me. “Yeah, I do. Anyway, you already told me you read.”
“Hell, you’ve got me,” I chuckle. I lean down and give her a kiss, savoring her warmth. “Lola, if you think you’ve got a killer book idea, then chase it. Chase it with everything you have. Because that’s the only way you’re going to get what you want.”
She smiles and rests her head against my chest. “Thank you for supporting me, Liam. Really. It means so much.”
“Always,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head, smelling her vanilla shampoo. “Speaking of what we want, I think we’d better make a stop before going to your parents’ house. I don’t want to be thinking of how goddamn
gorgeous and sexy you look when we break the news.”
She looks up at me, a sparkle in her eyes. “Are you saying you’ve gotta get something out of your system, huh?”
“That’s right,” I growl.
“Good,” she grins. “Because I was thinking the exact same thing.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lola
I remember the articles written about Juggernaut Fighting Championship’s decision to build a whole complex on a private island in the Caribbean, how wasteful some people thought it was, what a poor business decision.
But when we disembark the private jet and I see, beyond the barriers of the airport, a whole hoard of fans screaming and cheering Liam’s name I just know that they were wrong.
He was popular before, but now it’s like he’s royalty returning to his home country.
He takes my hand as we walk down to the private car waiting to pick us up, the windows tinted and several security men in suits and earpieces standing around looking important.
I feel myself pulling away from him slightly as we near the car, when I see the flashes of the photographers’ cameras blooming in the evening light.
“What’s wrong?” Liam whispers, close to my ear.
“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” I mutter. “It makes it so official. And I don’t want to force you in any—”
He spins me around so quickly that I giggle in shock, and then leans down and fuses his lips against mine, white hot heat searing between us, a thousand buzzing tingles dancing up and down my body, making everything else seem unimportant.
I lose myself in the kiss, gasping, almost biting his lip.
He pulls away, smirking, eyes twinkling.
“Dammit,” he says.
“What?” I ask, smiling.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do any public displays of affection, that your perfect body, lips, perfect everything was just for me. But you need to know, Lola, that this is official. You’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”
What, not even Dad?
But since we first discussed telling him on the flight, that big elephant in the room has been swiftly ignored, as though we’ve silently agreed to tackle that thorny issue at a later date.
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