Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(44)

I push Liam away and slap him across the face.

He jerks back, breathing hard, and stares down at me with wild, glittering eyes.

I say, “Do you really think I’m going to fall into bed with you after you just crashed my celebration dinner, manhandled my friend, bragged about being some kind of mafia kingpin, and threw me into your car like a piece of luggage?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Not my plan.”

He glowers at me. The elevator stops. The doors slide open. He says darkly, “We’ll see.”

Then he picks me up in his arms again and walks me inside his home.

It’s the penthouse, huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase the glittering Boston skyline far below. Liam carries me through the apartment without a word. Automatic lights blink on, lighting the space in a muted glow. His footsteps echo off the marble floor as I cling to his shoulders, my pulse racing.

“Put me down, Liam.”

“In a minute.”

We enter a bedroom larger than my entire apartment. More lights flick on. The room is huge, with a fireplace at one end and a king size bed at the other. A sofa and chairs are clustered into a sitting area near one of the windows. A wet bar displays a variety of cut crystal bottles behind glass. The space is masculine and sophisticated, and decorated entirely in shades of gray and black.

Liam heads straight for the bed.

“Liam, I’m not—”

“Quiet.”

He takes us down to the black silk duvet and settles his big heavy body over mine with his wolf’s hungry growl. He pins my wrists over my head and takes my mouth again without speaking a word, flexing his hips into mine so I feel every inch of his arousal.

My dress is bunched up around my thighs. My skin is covered in goose bumps. My pulse is flying at a breakneck pace, I’m gasping for air, and I suddenly feel unhinged. As if I might at any moment break out into hysterical screams...or laughter.

I’m exhilarated and furious and turned on, all at once. My body is filled with so much emotion my skin feels tight, like I could burst at the seams.

I gasp, writhing. “I’m not your fuck toy, dammit!”

Liam starts to speak to me in Gaelic.

His words are guttural, muffled between greedy kisses on my mouth, neck, chest.

Though I don’t know what he’s saying, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

He holds me down with one big hand clenched around my wrists and the other running up and down my body, squeezing and exploring the curve of my waist, the rise of my ribcage, the swell of my breast.

When he pinches my hard nipple, I moan, arching into him, so out of my mind with lust and fury I think I might die.

“No, you’re not my fuck toy,” he says against my neck, his voice husky. “You’re my queen bee. My unhealthy obsession. The reason I haven’t been able to sleep in a goddamn year.”

His teeth scrape over my clavicle. His lips and tongue kiss a hot path down my chest to my cleavage. He nuzzles his nose against my breasts, inhaling deeply against my skin and squeezing my nipple again, thumbing over the nubbed peak through the fabric of my dress.

I groan. “Liam. Please.”

Into my ear, he says gruffly, “I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this, but we’ll go again right after, and then I’ll take it slow.”

He looks at me, breathing hard as he gazes into my eyes. “Ready?”

I debate with myself for a tense, breathless moment, hating myself for not saying a forceful no instantly. But it’s not a no my body is feeling. It’s a big, fat, unequivocal yes.

Damn. I’m going to regret this.

I whisper, “Yes. I’m still going to be mad at you after.”

He rears back onto his knees, his legs straddling mine, and grasps the neckline of my dress. With one hard yank, he rips it wide open.

I gasp. Buttons pop and fly, scattering over the bed, clattering against the floor.

He stares wildly down at me, exposed and trembling beneath him. Except for a bra, I’m bare down to my waist.

Liam yanks again, and the dress rips open the rest of the way, down to the hem. The sound of fabric tearing and buttons popping and my own breathless gasps of shock fill the room.

He doesn’t give me time to recover before he swings a leg over me and tears off my panties. Then he positions himself between my spread thighs, buries his face between my legs, and shoves his tongue deep inside me.

I arch and cry out, clenching my fingers into the blanket. He makes a low noise like a hum that reverberates all the way through me.

With his fingers digging into my ass, he fucks me with his tongue, working it in and out as I moan and rock my hips against his face.

He’s still fully dressed.

I’m still wearing my heels, my bra, and the ruins of Ellie’s pretty red dress.

He reaches up and pinches my swollen clitoris, then starts to stroke it, his fingers moving in time with his tongue. Pleasure ripples out from my core in waves as he eats me hungrily, making soft noises of approval at my response. Then he moves his mouth to my clit and sucks on it, hard, sliding a thick finger inside me to replace his tongue. With his other hand, he reaches up and roughly pinches one of my nipples through my bra.

His teeth scrape over my clit.

His beard scratches my thighs.