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But if he thought he would own this kiss, he’s in for a big surprise. My lips part beneath his. I feel his start of surprise before his lips slant over mine, confirming what I already suspected. His kiss is just like him—scorching hot, intense with a hint of softness he shows to too few people.
Also, as I expected, kissing Liam Payne could be my downfall.
All from a single kiss.
Well, that and the way the banked fire between us springs into an inferno the moment we released it.
“Laura,” he whispers as his arm bands around my hips, freeing his hand to roam the bare skin of my back, to slide around to cover the silk encasing my breasts. God, I’ve never been so grateful for the wonders of Aunt Emily’s miracle construction. The feel of his hands molding my breasts elicits a moan from me I can’t restrain. I’m going to pool into a puddle of couture silk soon; I just know it. It’s all because of the way Liam Payne drives me insane.
My arms start slipping from around his neck, but he catches them. Wrapping them tighter, he smirks down at me. “I love being able to touch you.”
“Kiss me again,” I plead breathlessly.
As his head lowers between my raised arms, he murmurs, “With pleasure.”
The feel of the skin of his neck will be forever imprinted on the pads of my fingers. If—when—I go back to wearing medical gloves, I’ll always bear the mark of Liam’s skin as a barrier between my fingerprints and the harsh latex. Where before, the tips memorized a human body for the purpose of saving lives. Now I blindly focus on committing every millimeter of the skin above his shirt collar to memory. The way his close-cropped hair dips between my fingers. There’s a tantalizing spot where his skin meets his tux shirt that I fight with so I can slip my hand beneath his collar to do as much exploring of him as he does of me.
Just then, his fingers dip beneath the sides of my gown. His rough voice rasps my name. I suck in an enormous breath as he tears his lips away. His eyes are wildly dilated as he stares into mine. But his focus is on the nipple he’s now flicking slowly—too slowly. Enough to keep me riding the edge, but not enough to fling me over. “Liam,” I moan.
“I know,” he growls. His lips descend, wreaking havoc as they run up and down the side of my neck. I arch into his arms, pliant.
His.
Willing.
Prepared to take this next step if he’s ready to be the man who wants me.
As if he can sense my capitulation, he fuses our mouths together. My lips part immediately, tasting his as he glides his tongue over mine. It’s a dueling, a mating dance as old as time. Woman to man—ready for the ultimate culmination of joining.
After cheating death, I refuse to hold back on life. I want this. I want him.
I need Liam with a certainty I’ve never experienced before.
Whimpers I’m unable to restrain feed the hunger inside him. He breaks away long enough to drag me to the sofa. Falling back, his hands slide down to urge me to straddle his hips, which I do so eagerly. In this position, I can stare down into his remarkable eyes.
Our passion explodes, and kisses and touches are urgent as we desperately try to communicate with touch what words don’t seem to convey. I frantically fumble with his bowtie, then the studs of his shirt, so I can drag my fingernails across his pectorals.
Meanwhile, Liam shoves my gown up and over my hips. Then he tests Emily’s sewing skills as he strains the sides until my breast falls into his waiting hands while the dress forces them around the compressed silk. But I’m not worried about stitches for long. It’s barely a breath before his lips surround my areola and he suckles me, distracting me from my endgame—which is to drive him insane with lust.
Rocking forward and back on his ironhard dick, I moan, “I might come just from that alone.”
“Good.”
“Don’t stop.”
He flicks me a look so raw I feel stripped bare before lowering his head again. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He resumes suckling.
I lean into his mouth and press against his cock. I’m heedless of anything but pleasure, life, and Liam.
I’m not certain how much time passes, how much passion cloaks us in her nebulous ability to forget time and space. That is until we hear a familiar squeak on the wood floor echoing in the hallway.
Even as our lips cling together for a last impossible second, neither of us moves. It’s as if our souls are unwilling to part. Still, Bailey’s arrival reminds us of the person we are both willing to put above ourselves and these tumultuous emotions.
Liam rolls us upward and brushes his nose against the side of mine, leaving a taste of what could have been if we weren’t interrupted. His promise of “Later” sends shivers through my body before he heads off to intercept Bailey so I can right myself.
Chapter
Forty-Nine