Crown Jewels (Off-Limits Romance #1)(57)



I see his eyes on me, then shut my own, moaning softly as he strokes a hand over my spine. I feel him shift his hips and moan again, anticipating his hardness against me.

I want this.

I need this.

Even though it’s wrong, I need to feel this.

Liam’s arms go around me and his mouth rests on my temple. “Jesus Lucy.”

He rubs his head, as if he’s trying to get his bearings. I don’t want that, though. I nuzzle up against his chest, then wrap an arm around his waist, easing my hand up his shirt, so I can stroke the warm, hard muscle of his back. I can feel chills under my fingertips.

Liam groans. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Same here,” I whisper.

“Lucy?” he says.

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, just breathes deeply with his face against my shoulder. I trail my hand over his hip and up his rock-hard lower abs, and my wrist brushes the erection pushing at his pants. Now that he’s like this, so still and somber, all I want to do is make him moan.

My heart races as I stroke him through his pants, and Liam’s breathing grows heavier. With his face still warm against my collarbone, he lets out another groan. My free hand finds his nipple through his shirt and pinches.

“Fuck.” His body shudders, then—in the work of a second, and his two strong hands—I’m on my back; Liam’s between my legs, kissing my throat so hard I cry out. Between kisses: “Christ, Lucy. Tell me to stop.”

All I can do is moan as his mouth tortures me. I arch beneath him, praying that he peels my clothes off next. I tug his hair and Liam breaks away for a few heavy breaths before his mouth finds my hard nipple through my shirt and bra.

He groans. “I can’t stop.”

“So don’t.”

He presses his forehead against my chest. I wrap my arms around his head. He’s delicious like this, his huge body curved atop mine, held up by his strong arms, his legs heavy in between mine, chest and shoulders heaving with the weight of panted breaths.

I’m wrapping an arm around his big, thick shoulders when Liam draws away and up off me. His face is taut, his eyes nowhere near mine as he gets off the bed and leaves the room.

I find him on a balcony off the living room, leaning against the wooden rail. His hair is down. One of his hands is fisted in it.

“Sorry,” he says as I step onto the porch. He doesn’t look at me.

“Me too.”

He rubs his face and sighs.

“It’s not just you,” I tell him quietly.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he turns around to face me, his eyes are burning with desire—yet he looks tired. Exhausted. “I’m not usually this way.”

I’m not sure what he means exactly, but I feel the need to reassure him, so I lift one shoulder and say, “It’s okay. I’m not usually this way either.”

Liam shakes his head, then leans it back and shuts his eyes. “My mother died here,” he says, rubbing at his neck.

“She did?”

His lips press tightly together as he stares at something right beside me. “The press said ‘on one of the family’s private islands’, but it was this one.” He gives a bitter smile. “This one was my parents’ favorite. I don’t come here often now.”

“Of course not.”

His eyes finally come to mine, and he looks lost. My heart bleeds. “Liam…what happened to her?”

“She was pregnant.” His hand moves over his mouth as his bleak eyes hold mine. “She had an aneurism.”

“God. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

He looks down at his boots, his face a mask. “It was unexpected, of course. Ain—my mother’s chief of staff—he brought me here. Over near where we parked today. I think my father had called him, and they were hoping she might still pull through. I was supposed to sit in the car until Ain got me out to see her, but I jumped out about the time they loaded Mum into a helicopter.” I watch his thick throat as he swallows. “She was dead already.”

In the long second of silence that follows, I can almost see him: tiny Liam, watching the sky as a helicopter lifted off with his mom—never to return her. What an awful thing for any child.

One small step, and I’m close enough to wrap my arms around his waist. I drag them up, so I can squeeze his lower back. Liam’s chin is on my hair. He turns his head and rests his cheek there on the top of my head.

I feel him take a heavy breath, and grip him tighter. For the longest time, we’re frozen there. Then, with a murmured “thanks,” Liam pulls away. He’s looking everywhere except my eyes as he steps back, the rail behind him.

I step closer, and he reaches out. I think he’s reaching for me, but I realize that his hand is open and facing out, as if he’s telling me to stop.

“I’m going to kiss you again if you…” He shakes his head.

“Am I tempting?” It’s a stupid thing to say, but I’m the queen of stupid things when I’m rattled.

Liam is nodding. “Yes. So goddamned tempting, Lucille Rhodes.” He grabs me and pulls me close. “I need you up against me.” His lips find my neck. “Everything about you…” He kisses me on the neck, so forceful I groan. “I need you underneath me, Lucy…”

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