Page 29

“S top it,” I said, slapping Clint right across the face when the asshole made a grab for me.

Shocked and appalled were words I’d only ever heard used in association with little old ladies, but that was exactly how I felt.

How dare he! How fucking dare he!

“You like it rough? Me too,” he replied, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me harder into his soft body.

My chest was heaving with fear and revulsion, recalling a similar situation and hating how powerless I felt.

A door slammed loudly.

I barely had time to register what was happening when my husband pulled Clint off me and punched him right in the face.

“You sonovabitch!” Liam snarled.

Time seemed to slow. I registered there was someone else with him, but I was too upset and stunned to put it together.

Besides, I couldn’t see anything but him. Liam. My husband.

His mouth was set in a hard line, and his entire body was tensed and poised for battle.

Holy fuck.

He looked angry.

Like really angry.

Also, hot as fuck.

Liam’s jaw was clenched tight, eyes smoldering with a fire that seemed to burn from within.

There was something almost primal about the intensity of his actions. Like he was holding back a storm.

But it wasn’t just the fury that made him captivating. It was the way the tension in his face sharpened his features, traveling throughout his entire body as he wreaked havoc on Clint, that miserable bastard.

I couldn’t help but watch, even as strong hands pulled me back from the brawling men. I turned my head and recognized Margaret O’Doyle and her two bodyguards.

“Are you going to help him?” I asked, my eyes wide.

“Does it look like he needs help?” she countered, and nodded at where her brother stood up over Clint’s prone body.

His chest was barely heaving as he looked down at the mess he left of the computer tech before spitting on him and turning towards me.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked, and came right for me, running his hands over my body.

I was stunned. In shock, maybe. Or just head over fucking heels in love. Whatever the reason, I could not speak.

I just shook my head.

An air of violence hung over his shoulders and I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. In fact, I was pretty sure if I checked, my panties would be soaked.

Liam looked sinister and alluring. Dangerously beautiful in a way that made it impossible to look away.

His dark hair fell messily around his face, as if the world couldn't even touch him enough to tame it.

His sharp cheekbones, the hard line of his mouth, and the way his emerald eyes seemed to cut through me with a kind of raw, unfiltered emotion—it all came together in something otherworldly.

In that moment, with his hands bloodied from defending my honor, Liam looked like my very own dark avenging angel.

The kind of angel who didn't just come to save. Oh no. He was there to seek retribution. To make sure the whole world felt the weight of his wrath.

And though a part of me knew that kind of power was unhinged, there was another part of me that couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

To him.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. He, uh, is he?”

“Don’t worry about him, Sweetheart. I’m taking you home now. Maggie?” he said, flicking his gaze towards his sister.

“I got this. Go take care of your wife.”

Liam nodded. Grabbing my elbow, he led me out of the room, to the garage and the SUV, waiting to take us home. The driver must have picked up on the tension because he was quiet, too.

We didn’t speak the entire ride. When we got home, the second we were out of the elevator and I’d opened the door to the condo, all that tension just snapped.

“Liam,” I gasped as his hands and lips found me in the darkened hallway.

He tore at my clothing, driven by some primal need I couldn’t possibly understand. He was whispering things, deliciously naughty things, right into my ear.

His hands felt hot and heavy, their weight welcomed, and it was like he branded me with them.

All I knew was I wanted them on me. I wanted him with every fiber of my being.

Was his reaction a little over the top, considering what had happened or didn’t?

I mean, Clint hadn’t had time to do anything. Not really.

But the things he said.

What he could have done.

All that hung in the air between Liam and me like a dense fog and I wanted to force it all to just go away. I shivered, but not from the cold.

“Fuck.” Liam grunted, tearing at my pants and spinning me around. He pushed me back against the wall, his mouth claiming mine in a punishing, bruising kiss I welcomed.

I wanted him to mark me. I wanted everyone to know who I belonged to.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he growled, and hauled me up higher, using the wall for leverage.

I heard his buckle opening, and then I felt him there. Liam flexed his hips and caught my moan with his mouth. He filled me with one hard thrust, stroking along that secret spot only he seemed to find.

“Husband,” I whimpered, clutching at his shoulders with my fingers.

“That’s right. I’m your husband. Me. Only me. Anyone who thinks about touching you is gonna wind up a bloody mess just like that motherfucker, you got that? Now, tell me you’re mine.”

“Yes. I’m yours,” I said, my pussy contracting around his thick cock.

I swear, it felt like he was getting even bigger as he pumped his hips, fucking me with a fervor I’d only ever experienced with him. Though tonight, he was slightly less controlled. Slightly more unhinged.

And I loved it. I loved him. I opened my senses, wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, and held on.

“Show me what you got, Wife. Suck the cum from my balls with your hot little cunt,” he growled, and holy hell, my entire body shook as I came.

I cried out, my voice hoarse and scratchy. But I couldn’t stop. Liam flexed his hips, wringing out every drop of pleasure from my body. He pumped harder, faster, his movements jerky as he joined me in bliss, and that was when I broke apart.

I felt fragmented, dissociated from reality as my soul took flight.

Liam shuddered. He spilled himself inside me, and I held on so tight. His breathing was rough, hot against my neck, and he sagged against me.

Christ. He was so sexy like this. I mean, he was hot as hell when he was all in brutal warrior mode.

But when he was like this?

Vulnerable and defenseless as he lost himself in my body, his heart pounding hard against mine. Like this, he was mine .

I coveted him so. Wrapping my arms and legs around him in a protective cocoon, I held on as he found peace inside my flesh.

And the emotions I felt, the rightness of it all. Of him and me coming together. All of it. All of those feelings, those impossible sensations, were all for and caused by this one man.

They were just impossible to contain.

Too big to ignore.

I opened my mouth, and before I knew what I was saying, it just slipped out.

“I love you.”

Time stood still, my words so heavy in the air I swore I could see them.

Liam froze, and I knew I’d fucked up.

He slid from me, helping me to stand as we tried to catch our breath. I felt cold, embarrassed, shy for the first time with him.

But I pretended it was all fine. That I hadn’t made a total and utter fool of myself.

That all of this was normal as I picked up my discarded clothes, my husband’s cum drying between my legs.

“I’ve, uh, got to go,” he began.

“Yeah. Sure.”

I nodded, smiling like nothing was amiss. Oh, I felt his withdrawal keenly. But I refused to let him know it.

On the inside, though, where no one could see, well, that was where my heart shattered.

Foolish, Micky. So damn foolish.