Home Wrecker

Liam

The Handler

Emma drove away from the Thompson estate, the intense physical charge from the drawing room still thrumming beneath her skin. Ryan had been visibly affected by her advances, yet he had maintained his control, simply commanding her to focus on the structural installation. His deliberate prioritization of his professional demands was a direct challenge to her control.

She drove straight to the discrete, unmarked bar downtown, needing a physical severance from the Thompson tension. She walked through a heavy, velvet curtain into a booth tucked into the back wall where Liam was waiting.

"Emma," Liam greeted her, sliding a slim, encrypted tablet across the table.

"The technical pre-text is holding," Emma countered, her voice low and sharp. "Ryan has accepted the structural plans. But he is currently maintaining strict professional distance. I need more leverage."

"And the previous target, Rachel?" Emma asked.

"The Rachel situation is contained," Liam confirmed. "She's laid up for a month. No threat."

Emma nodded, then focused on the immediate leverage. "The directive has changed. I need two things before noon tomorrow. First, the final blend components for the 'Cask Strength Smoke' delivered to the Thompson house by 1:00 PM tomorrow. No vendor names. Just the components."

Liam nodded. "Whiskey, got it."

"Second," Emma continued, her voice flat and decisive. "I need you to generate a targeted information leak regarding two key financial rivals on Ryan's guest list. The leak must be utterly professional—no gossip, just a precise prediction of their stock collapse next Tuesday. Frame it as insider knowledge leaked through The Financial Analyst blog."

Liam smiled faintly, a genuine, appreciative glint in his eyes. "I'll ensure the leak is sourced to look like an internal Thompson mistake. It will make Ryan trust your 'VIP seating gap' analysis even more. But you need to relax, Emma. You're vibrating."

Emma scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "He's fighting me, which means I have to force the next move. I need that time."

"You already have him," Liam stated, reaching across the table and covering her hand, his thumb stroking her wrist. "He's fighting you, which means he's losing. Take a breath. Take an hour."

Emma looked into Liam's eyes. They understood each other's work, operating in the same morally grey space. Liam offered an immediate, uncomplicated release that Ryan, with his immense wealth and psychological barriers, would never offer.

She didn't withdraw her hand. "The VIP failure is unacceptable," she whispered, her eyes holding his. "But the delivery time for the blend components is non-negotiable."

Liam's smile widened. He stood up, towering over the booth. "Consider it done, boss. Let's go."

Emma rose, leaving her untouched drink. Liam led her not toward the street, but through a back corridor leading to the bar's private quarters—a rarely used manager's suite. It was dark, functional, and utterly removed from the high-stakes chaos of the Thompson empire.

As they walked down the narrow, dimly lit corridor, Emma felt Liam’s gaze burning into her. The sleek dress made every stride a provocation. She didn't dare think the thought fully but thought the curve, the shaded outside of the thought. Just maybe: he was turned on by her. He liked the idea of her using him. Maybe he wanted her to talk like she was going to use him.

She turned her head, putting a small playful smile on her lips. If he didn't like it, he could leave. She was not here to please him. It was the other way around.

"Are you walking behind me to look at my ass?"

Liam looked at her face briefly, then looked slightly over to her ass.

"Yes."

She laughed, and it started as a delighted giggle, but she quickly tried to tone it into scornful amusement.

She could feel the dress bouncing against her upper thighs and knew it looked delicious, knew it looked like her ass would pop out of it any moment.

"Do you like my ass?"

He looked up again, briefly, possibly trying to gauge if she were offended or enjoying. He pulled at his jeans again, near the right hip.

"I do."

Emma loved seeing him watch her ass, but she turned her eyes forward.

"Are you hard for me?"

She waited a beat, but needed to say the next thing or she wouldn't ever say it. It felt too embarrassing if she were wrong.

"Is that why you keep adjusting your pants? You've got a hard on for me?"

Liam audibly breathed. Maybe even panted.

"I do."

Emma flushed but tried to keep the joy out of her words.

"You're hard thinking of f*****g me, aren't you?"

Liam made a small sound. A groan maybe.

"Tell me," Emma demanded.

"My c**k is hard thinking about your p***y getting sweaty while we walk," Liam said, slightly raspy. "I want to give you pleasure so badly."

Emma’s v****a clenched and she could feel her wetness slide to her opening, could feel it starting to leak past her lips. She was excited by this role and wanted to see where she could take it.

Liam pushed the door to the manager’s suite open, shoving her inside. He forced her against the wall, her back to him and spread-eagled. She gasped in delight as he undid her navy sheath dress, which slid to the floor...

Then, very lightly, he started to lick his way up her body, from her calves to her thighs, letting his tongue linger on the crack of her arse, up the small of her back, to her nape and ears, sucking, licking and kissing. At the same time, he slid his miraculously uncovered erection between her legs while he massaged her breasts from behind. She started to moan as he slid a finger up and down her puffy p***y lips, now wetter than before and wanting. Her hot cunt sucked on his finger and the pressure on it made him want more. Still fondling her breasts and rubbing her erect n*****s, he slid his c**k effortlessly into her p***y, which clenched his c**k like a tight, slippery glove. He started to pump her, his tongue in her mouth. As she moaned in pleasure, he pulled her arse out so that just her arms were leaning against the wall. Grabbing her cheeks in a tight grip, he thundered in and out of her. His c**k felt so good in that hot, wet p***y as he slid in and out of her. He felt her hand against his balls which were slapping against her arse and cunt and almost came when he felt her tugging them.

He pulled out and his c**k sprung out, gleaming with her p***y juices. She turned around and going down, took it in her mouth and started to rub the foreskin up and down, moving her mouth and tongue around the head, in that sensitive part where it met the shaft. As he watched, she looked up at him and watched him watching her, her eyes hooded with desire, watching him close his eyes in voluptuous pleasure and moan. At the same time, with the other hand, she rubbed her p***y, a finger sliding in and out, matching the rhythm of her other hand moving on his c**k.

When he couldn't anymore, he leaned forward, pulled her up and led her to a chair. Sitting on it, he pulled her on top of him and over his erection. There was something so erotic about him being fully dressed and her completely naked. As her soft wetness slid over his erection, they both lost control and the pace upped. She moaned and holding onto his broad shoulders, bounced on him as hard as she could ram her wanting p***y and he stabilized her wild movements with his hands on her hips. His mouth laved her n*****s jostling on her heaving breasts and he felt the telltale trembling which announced her approaching climax. At the same time, her p***y walls closed even tighter around his c**k and he felt his own impending climax. With a loud moan, she came, over and over and over. He felt the swollen soppiness and unable to control himself anymore, with a shudder, he came.

Emma was breathless, lying against his chest, the aftershocks slowly receding. Liam kissed her neck, his voice thick with satisfied desire.

"God, I love having you, Emma," Liam murmured, pulling her tighter. "When can we do this again? Tomorrow night?"

Emma pushed herself slightly off him. She reached for a tissue on the nearby table, wiped herself with a decisive motion, and tossed the tissue into the waste bin without looking at him.

"That depends, Liam," she said, her fingers finding the zipper of her sheath dress. "We can discuss your next reward after you successfully deliver on the stock collapse predictions and the 'Cask Strength' components. Focus on the job. Then we’ll talk."

The request was instantly transformed from a lover's promise into a professional incentive. Liam sighed, the realization of her immediate detachment clear in his eyes.

He stood, reaching out. His fingers brushed the edge of her breast, a final, possessive touch of intimacy.

"You're a user, Emma," Liam stated, his voice flat, but without anger. He was simply stating a fact they both understood.

Emma met his gaze, her eyes cold. She didn't flinch away from the touch, but she placed her hand over his, pressing it firmly away. "And you are being paid exceptionally well to be used, Liam.”

As she spoke, Liam dropped to his knees in one fluid movement, ducking beneath her hands. He pressed a warm, final kiss just to the outside of her v****a, a fleeting, tender acknowledgment of the pleasure she had received. He rose instantly, circling behind her, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of her neck, right where her hair met her skin.

"Focus on the job," Emma finished, ignoring the lingering heat of his contact, "Then we'll talk." He knew the terms of their engagement.

As Emma walked to the door and adjusted her dress, Liam watched her, his expression a mix of desire and cold recognition.

"He's not me, Emma," Liam stated, his voice a low, final remark that stopped her hand on the doorknob. "He's not a transaction. He's a liability."

Emma paused, then turned her head just enough to give him a cold, precise look. "I know exactly what he is," she countered, and opened the door.

She was calmer, harder, and refocused. The physical tension was gone, leaving her mind clear for strategy.

She retrieved her phone. The next move needed to be absolute. She wasn't going to wait for Ryan to grant the meeting; she was going to force it.