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A cry rips free, pulled from the depths of my being.

“God, the taste of you,” he groans before delving into my slick entrance. “I could eat you out for the rest of my life.”

The rest of my life…

A life that was supposed to be spent with Sebastian. I go still, fighting to keep the pain at bay, determined to moor it for the night.

Just one night.

But the ache in my chest won’t be ignored. It builds in tandem with the pace of Liam’s tongue, splitting me in two until I want to gasp and cry, scream and moan.

I clutch his head, desperate for him to stop.

Desperate for him to never stop.

His mouth stalls against me for a moment, then he lifts his head, dark eyes unreadable in the low light. “You’re holding back,” he says, calling out my internal struggle as he pushes a finger inside me. “I want every sigh and whimper, Novalee. Every single one.”

“Liam…” His name breaks on a lust-filled whine.

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Your pussy’s leaking all over me.” He adds another digit and pumps in and out, stroking that magical spot that sends my mind reeling. With each slippery plunge, I stretch a little more.

“Oh God,” I moan, still not ready to give in. My cries launch from deep in my throat, but still, I hang on, trapped in self-denial.

“Give it to me.” His growling demand vibrates against my clit. “Come all over my face.”

Whatever he does next is pure sorcery, because I can’t think or form words. Of their own accord, my hands fall to the bed, and I fist his royal blue comforter.

Air locks in my lungs.

Fire bursts to life on my skin.

And the earth?

I’m positive it’s spinning out of control. No, I’m the one spinning high above the clouds, suspended in the unrelenting pleasure of his mouth and fingers. I haven’t begun to come down when he tangles a fist in my hair.

“I’d give anything to be inside of you right now.”

“You said you’d make me bleed.” I meet the fierce need in his eyes. “Why wait until my birthday?”

“That isn’t the plan anymore.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” A triumphant smile tugs at his lips. “You’re going to bleed for me on our wedding night.”

“What are you talking abou?—?”

Flipping me over, he silences me, mid-word. “On your knees. Tuck them under you.”

Even as I’m panting in shock, my body does his bidding. I rest my shoulders on the mattress, ass in the air, and wonder what he’ll do next. A drawer squeaks open, and I twist my head to watch him in the dim light.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you the only way I’m allowed.” He uncaps a bottle I’m all too familiar with and pours some of the slick fluid into his palm.

“But—”

“No buts, Novalee.” He applies the lube before crawling onto the bed behind me. “Marrying you is back on the table, and I’m not blowing it this time.”