Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(45)

When I come, it’s with a scream that claws its way out of my throat like an animal.

The contractions are violent. They rip through me like the detonation of a bomb. I writhe against the bed, raw sounds of pleasure coming out of me that I’m helpless to control.

I sink my fingers into his hair and pull on it, scratching his scalp, until the throbbing slows and I collapse back against the mattress, sobbing with relief.

Liam turns his mouth to my thigh and bites me there, like he wants to take a mouthful of my tender flesh and swallow it.

He rises to his knees and unzips his trousers. Licking his lips, he takes his jutting erection in his fist and strokes it, base to crown and back again.

It’s insanely hot that he’s still in his suit and tie, the only exposed part of his body a hard cock that is very obviously eager to get buried inside me.

I open my legs wider.

His eyes flare with heat. He drops down to hover over me with one hand planted on the mattress beside my head, positions his rigid cock between my thighs, and strokes his crown up and down through my soaked folds, nudging forward.

“Wait—do you have protection?”

“I’m clean.”

“Me, too, but I’m not on birth con—”

With one forceful thrust, he shoves his cock deep inside me.

He’s hot, hard, and invading, stretching me out, making my back arch and my body open to him. I gasp, shocked but loving how he feels.

Balancing his weight on his elbows, he grabs my head, fists his hands into my hair, and growls, “Then I’ll come in your mouth.”

He starts to fuck me, hard and relentlessly, driving deep, his hips pistoning, his grunts of pleasure ringing in my ears. He’s all over me, all around me, his weight and his smell and his dominating masculinity, all of it laying claim to me like a raised sword and a battle cry and a line drawn in the sand—this is mine.

When I moan deliriously, he takes my mouth again, swallowing the sound. Every time I exhale, he breathes it in. He fucks me so hard it’s like he wants to crawl inside me. Like he wants to break me apart.

Like he’s breaking apart, and the only thing that can save him is surrender.

I hook my ankles behind his back and let him take me like he needs to, burying my face in his neck as he drives us toward the end that aches inside us, the peak of that mountain we first set foot on long ago, the moment he stepped inside Buddy’s Diner’s door.

“Tru.” He groans, shuddering.

He’s close, but I’m closer.

With a small cry, I’m over the edge again, convulsing around him, bucking wildly as pleasure consumes me. I open my mouth and suck hard on the pulse pounding in the side of his neck, scraping my teeth against his skin and clawing at his back as he groans.

The rhythm of his hips falters. “Fuck. You’re coming. I can feel you coming—”

He breaks off with a low, broken moan and holds himself motionless and rigid above me.

I continue to writhe underneath him, rocking my hips, fucking myself onto his beautiful hard cock, giving myself over to the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt. I use his body shamelessly as he tries to hold back, his arms shaking, low moans working from his throat.

My orgasm goes on and on, spinning out into eternity. I’m lost in it, tumbling under every crashing wave, drowning in him and loving every second.

The moment the convulsions slow to a stop and I relax under him, Liam rasps, “Give me your mouth. Now.”

He slides out of me, rolls to his back, and grips his stiff cock in his hand. I quickly climb over him and take him in my mouth. As soon as my lips slide over the wet, engorged crown, he sucks in a hard breath and curses.

I open my throat and slide him all the way down. His groan forms the shape of my name.

Then he spills himself inside my mouth, throbbing against my tongue, his entire body jerking.

“Take it all, baby,” he rasps. He squeezes a hot, shaking hand around my throat. “Take every last drop of me.” He breaks off into garbled Gaelic.

I swallow, then do it again, my lips stretched tight around his girth as he thrusts up into my mouth.

With a final shudder, he falls still, spent. His chest rises and falls with his ragged breath.

I slowly slide him out of my mouth and lick my lips. After a moment, he exhales. He lifts his head and looks at me, still holding his jutting cock in my fist.

Without a word, I climb off him, retrieve Ellie’s shredded dress from the bedroom floor, and wrap it around my naked body. My head held high, I turn around and walk out.

The sound of Liam’s low laughter follows me as I go.





17





Liam





I find her in one of the guest suites, curled up on top of the bed in the fetal position in the dark.

She’s wrapped in the fur throw taken from the chair near the fireplace. I know she didn’t want to crawl under the covers, because that would be a commitment to staying. To falling asleep and being vulnerable.

As if she’d ever be vulnerable when she was with me. As if I wouldn’t kill anyone who dared to even give her the wrong kind of look.

I try to gather her into my arms to pick her up, but she rolls to her other side, avoiding me.

I say firmly, “If you’re under this roof, you’re sleeping in my bed.”