Beautifully Cruel

42

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 f**k 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 n****e, I moan, arching into him, so out of my mind with lust and fury I think I might die.

“No, you’re not my f**k 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 n****e 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 f**k 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 f***s 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 c******s, 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 c**t 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 n*****s through my bra.

His teeth scrape over my c**t.

His beard scratches my thighs.

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 c**k 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 c**k 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 c**k 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 f**k 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.