Page 30 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Addie

Even though Liam’s rejection wasn’t really a rejection, it still stung, just a little. I’m grateful for the boxing lesson right after our conversation, because it was the perfect way to get out my emotions.

Kind of.

Unfortunately, it did nothing for my physical frustrations, because watching Liam shirtless, covered in sweat, and making damn good use of those muscles of his… well, it only heightened what he created yesterday—the female equivalent of blue balls.

Blue walls.

Now, we’re back at the cabin. He’s already showered, and I’ve just gotten out, and I can hear him through the closed bathroom door.

He’s talking, but there’s no second voice, so I assume he’s on the phone.

It’s too muffled to make out what he’s saying, not that I’m trying to. Okay, maybe I am. Whatever.

I dry off and dress quickly, then step out.

“I couldn’t give less fucks about the contract!” he almost yells. And even though it’s an almost , it’s still the loudest and most heated I’ve ever heard him. “I’ll buy you out of contract right now. I just never want to see your ass again.” Movement, and then a muttered, “Asshole.”

I make my way to the living room, parting the curtains and sticking my head through the gap. Liam’s standing with his hands on his hips, staring down at the phone on the couch as if his glare alone can set it on fire. He looks pissed .

“Um…” With caution, I step through the curtains, asking, “Is everything okay?”

His eyes immediately find mine, softening when they do. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know why.”

“You want to talk about what happened?” I ask, motioning to his phone.

“Not really.”

“Okay. Well,”—I point over my shoulder—“I’ll just be in my lair if you do.” I turn to leave, but he captures my hand.

“Addie, wait.”

I spin to him, eyebrows raised. “What’s up?”

He releases his hold, his eyes scattered as they search mine. His face pinches, eyebrows set, jaw tense. “I think I was wrong earlier.”

“Wrong?” I ask. “About what, exactly?”

“About you… and me.”

“I’m—”

“Fuck it.” He moves in so fast, I don’t have time to react to his arm around my waist, tugging me to him.

His mouth crashes against mine, the kiss warm, yet rough , and then his tongue…

a single stroke at the seam, and I’m panting for air as I part my lips, granting him access.

The moment our tongues touch, it feels like everything all at once, like liquid and ash.

Like he’s just poured fuel on my insides and set my entire body ablaze.

We kiss forever.

Or maybe only a few seconds.

I can’t be sure.

He pulls away, his eyes opening a beat after mine. “Okay?” he whispers.

And the only thing I can do is nod.

But it’s all the permission he needs to continue.

He has one hand on my neck now, thumb pressed beneath my chin, the other in my hair, fingers digging beneath my braid as he surges forward.

He’s so in control of every move, I feel like I’m chasing after him.

Every press of my lips, every stroke of my tongue.

He practically lifts me off my feet, his mouth never leaving me as he sits on the couch, forcing my legs to fold on either side of him.

I lace my fingers through his hair while his hands coast along my back, lower and lower, until they’re cupping my ass.

He squeezes. Hard. Just once. And I moan at the sensation of his hard cock pressed to my core.

“Jesus,” I whisper, my back and neck arching on its own.

He places his open mouth at the base of my neck, sucking at the spot while his hands on my ass encourage me to grind against him.

I’ve thought about this moment numerous times—what it would feel like to have him like this, for him to take me like this. None of my fantasies compare to the fire he’s lit inside me. Not even close. “I have to tell you something,” I breathe out, my fingers curling into his scalp.

His mouth skims down my chest, stopping just above my bra. “Tell me.”

“Yesterday…” I say, pressing firmer down on him. He lets out a groan, and I dip my head, meet his lips halfway. We kiss slower than before, but it comes with a stirring of something deeper. More passionate. More needy.

He pulls away. “Yesterday, what?” he urges.

I try to catch my breath, my bearings. “Yesterday, you left me so turned on, I couldn’t sleep. So I tried to take care of it and?—”

The back of his head meets the couch cushion. “Show me.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

He removes my hand from his hair, settles it over my mound. Then he leans in close. So close I can feel the warmth of his exhale against my mouth. Or maybe it’s just the ghost of his kiss. He strokes my bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes scattered, searching.

“Show me how you touched yourself.”

Breath caught in my chest, I sit a little taller, then lower my gaze to the space between us. I move my fingers right over the spot?—

“Not like that,” he croaks. He starts undoing the buttons of my denim shorts. “Show me exactly how you— fuck !”

Before I know it, he’s standing, and I’m holding on to him as he grips my ass to hold me in place.

He rushes out of the living room and into the hallway.

He turns toward the bedroom, then curses under his breath before spinning around and opting for the bathroom instead.

He closes the door, locks it, then flicks on the shower.

Finally, he places me down on my feet, my back against the door.

“What the—” One of his hands covers my mouth, the other holding a finger up between us, asking me to wait.

“Liam!” Lincoln shouts. “What the fuck did you do?”

Liam ignores him, and, with one hand still covering my mouth, continues with his task of undoing the buttons on my shorts. My eyes widen, while his flare with heat. He smirks, right before tugging on my shorts until they’re on the floor.

“Where the fuck are you?” Lincoln yells, and he sounds closer than he did a second ago. My back jerks forward with each of Lincoln’s pounds against the door.

Liam’s jaw tightens. “I’m in the fucking shower. Fuck off!”

Lincoln says something back, but neither of us pays attention because we’re too busy kissing.

And not the type of kisses we shared earlier.

This one’s fueled by pure desire. He’s bent at the waist, while I have my arms around his neck, his mouth hot against mine, our tongues diving, drifting across each other.

He lifts me off my feet again, carrying me the few steps to the vanity.

He sets me down, then immediately spreads my legs open for him.

He steps back, taking in the sight, before he focuses on the space between my legs.

“Fuck, Addie,” he whispers. “So fucking wet.” Then he takes my hand, places it right where he wants it. “Show me.”

My chest rises and falls as I watch him watch me, my entire body igniting with lust. I lower my hand beneath my white cotton underwear, and I can feel the moment the damp fabric pulls away from my wet center.

And if I can feel it, I’m sure Liam can see it.

I press a finger to my clit, sparking a flicker of ecstasy through my bloodline.

“Liam!” Lincoln calls, banging on the door again. I’d forgotten he was even there.

Liam doesn’t answer him; he just slides his hands over my bare legs, bringing him closer until his mouth meets mine. He tugs on my tank top, and against my lips, he whispers, “Can I?”

I nod, my mind too dizzy to comprehend what it means.

Slowly, he lifts my top over my breasts, then over my head, removing it entirely. I’m in my bra and underwear and nothing else, and Liam’s eyes glaze over when he steps back, appreciating my body from head to toe.

I pinch his shirt, begging him to remove it. He willingly complies. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but in this setting, doing what we’re doing, it amplifies the heat scorching across my flesh.

“Keep going,” he mouths, motioning between my legs.

His hand circles his cock, over his shorts, when I touch myself again, and his eyes—eyes darker than usual—laser focus on the movement.

Lincoln bangs on the door again. Just once. “Did you seriously fire him over this shit?”

Liam rolls his eyes. Doesn’t respond. Only steps closer and reaches around me.

I think he’s going for a hug, but when I feel a tug on my bra, I know exactly what he’s doing.

A second later, my bra’s unsnapped, the straps falling down my arms, and Liam keeps his gaze trained on my breasts as he slides it all the way off.

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, ducking his head.

With his lips parted an inch from my nipple, he looks up, asking for permission.

I nod once. His mouth is burning hot against my flesh, and my head falls back in pleasure when he circles his tongue around the peak.

“Oh, God,” I moan, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.

It’s too much. The pleasure of Liam’s tongue has me halting my efforts on my clit, and he must notice because his hand replaces mine.

At first, he works over my underwear, and within seconds, he’s pushing the fabric aside until it’s skin-on-skin contact, and I jerk at the instant pleasure it creates.

My vision blurs, and I close my eyes, sparks of electricity ricocheting throughout me.

I choke on a breath when he slides a finger inside me, the sensation causing my body to lock up, just for a moment, before it relaxes around him.

Liam works his way from my breast to my mouth, moving his hand so he can heighten my arousal with a kiss so deep, it has me seeing stars behind my closed lids.

He slides his finger to the hilt, then pulls out slowly, before doing it again.

Another bang on the door.

My eyes snap wide open.

“He’s posted it on Instagram!” Lincoln yells. “Tagged us and everything! Everyone’s talking about it already!”

Liam pulls away, and I think he’s going to respond, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he drops to his knees, his head between my legs.

Then he smiles as he looks up at me. “Perfect,” he mouths, and then he moves in, presses a kiss right there , over the fabric, before pulling it into his mouth and sucking hard.

My eyes widen in shock while his gaze turns molten.

“Fuck you taste so good,” he says, out loud .

And in one swift move, he’s sliding my underwear down my legs, throwing them over his shoulder, and grabbing my ass, dragging me to the edge of the vanity.

He reaches up, cupping my breast, and I don’t recognize my own body—the reaction it has—the pull it provides… the thoughts circling my mind.

My vision’s so hazy, I don’t recognize the room we’re in. Or the boy in front of me. The quiet, anxious boy who’s currently spitting on my pussy, then licking it clean.

He fucks me with his fingers first.

Then his tongue.

Then both at the same time.

He works me to the edge until I’m completely breathless, then brings me down, down, down, only to do it all over again.

Again and again.

“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, my legs trembling when he brings me to the peak.

I grasp his hair, keep him right where he is as I grip the edge of the counter.

He reaches up, and I clamp my mouth shut before he can cover it.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, redirecting his hand from my mouth to my neck, squeezing just hard enough to bring pain to my pleasure.

It’s all I need to release, erupting on his tongue as he laps up the evidence.

He holds me when I’m done, stroking my back through post-orgasm bliss. He’s so gentle with his touch—a complete contrast to who he was only moments ago. “You okay?” he whispers against my hair.

“Never better,” I breathe out. “What about you? How’s that restraint of yours going?”

His laugh is silent, but enough that I can feel its presence through his body.

We hold each other a moment, letting our breaths even out. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll take care of you,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “You’re good. I came way before you did.”

I pull back, eyebrows raised in question.

He simply shrugs, brings his mouth to my ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that to you since the day I saw you in here.”

“You hated me then.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “But you’re insanely sexy, and I wanted to hate-fuck you as punishment for it.”

My body flames. “You can still punish me… as long as it’s sexual.”

“Maybe next time,” he whispers. “But this… this was much better.” He offers me his hand to get off the vanity. “Now, I actually have to shower.”

“So do I.”

He smiles to one side. “Even better.”