The room still smelled like his skin. Like heat and tension and something purely Liam. My body felt boneless, sated, wrapped against his chest like it had found its rightful home. The ache between my legs hadn’t faded, but it wasn’t pain. It was the memory of being taken, devoured, worshipped in the roughest way possible.
His hand was heavy around my waist. Possessive. Like he was daring the world to try and take me again.
I ran my fingers along his bare chest, brushing over the steady rise and fall. There was a moment of perfect silence, broken only by our breathing.
Then, I whispered, "I missed you so badly."
His arm tightened around me. He exhaled through his nose. "God, I hate how I can't stay mad at you."
I pulled back a little to look at him. "You planned to stay mad at me?"
He
