Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 98021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Then, slowly, one sweet inch at a time, I lower my body onto his.
Fuck. It's been a long time since I've had sex without a condom. Since I felt all of someone against all of me.
All that trust and intimacy flowing between us.
Has it always been this overwhelming?
Or is it Liam?
I've only done this with John. I was with him for a long time. In some ways, I knew him well, and he knew me well.
But it wasn't like with Liam. He didn't see me, accept me, love every broken part of me.
I didn't see him, accept him, love every broken part of him.
Fuck.
I love him.
I do.
I think I have for a long time. But this is different, deeper, more intense.
All of him against all of me.
It's possible here. But everywhere else?
I don't know.
"Fuck." His breath hitches in his throat. "Fuck, Bri." His fingers curl into my hips. "You feel so fucking good."
I barely manage to nod.
He presses his lips to my neck. No teasing this time. His kiss is hard, aggressive, needy.
He kisses a line down my chest. Then he takes my nipple into his mouth. Toys with soft flicks of his tongue. Slow swirls.
The soft brush of his teeth.
"Fuck." My nails dig into his chest. It's not enough. I need more of his bare skin.
I push the sides of his shirt apart. Press my hand to his stomach. Curl the other around his neck.
Then I raise my hips and I drive down on him.
Slowly, the first time.
Then faster.
Harder.
As deep as I can take him.
Fuck, he feels so good inside me. Hard and warm and mine.
Is he really mine?
Can I even handle that?
Everywhere else, I don't know. But here?
Here, I need every fucking molecule.
Liam toys with my nipple as I drive onto him again and again.
My eyes go to the mirror. I watch him take my breast into his mouth. Watch his fingers curl into my back.
Watch mine curl into his hair.
Watch my body raise and lift as I take him again and again.
My dress is in the way. I can't see the explicit action. But watching his mouth close around my nipple is enough to push me to the edge.
Maybe I am an exhibitionist. I need to test it. To watch more of him, me, us.
But right now—
My eyes flutter closed. I'm too close. Watching is too intense.
I drive down on Liam as he toys with my breasts.
Again and again.
So, so, so, fucking close.
Then he brings one hand to my head and pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
He brings the other to my clit.
He draws slow circles as he kisses me.
With the next brush of his thumb, I come. I swirl my tongue around his, kissing him hard, driving down on him again and again.
My sex pulses around him.
Pleasure spills through my stomach, my thighs, my breasts.
All the way to my fingers and toes.
Every part of me unravels. There's no spool. I'm a mess of thread on the floor and it feels so fucking good.
His lips stay locked to mine. His hands go to my hips. He guides me over him. A little slower. A little deeper.
Then he's there, groaning against my mouth as he comes.
I can feel every pulse, every drop, every groan.
It's different.
More intimate.
After he works through his orgasm, he pulls me close, holds my body against his.
It's not quite every inch of me against every inch of him, but it's close.
It's really fucking close.
The drive passes in a blur of slow jams and soft skin.
Liam helps me out of the car, kisses me in the elevator, carries me into the fucking apartment.
We go straight to the shower, strip each other out of our clothes, step into the warm water.
The glass shower is massive by shower standards, but it's still a tiny space, still too small for all the feelings flowing through my veins.
I don't know how to explain them. I never do.
So, I kiss him, and help him soap, and wrap my hand around his cock, and pump him until he's groaning my name.
This time, he holds me close as he enters me, every inch of my skin against every inch of his.
I come twice.
He follows.
Then, finally, we clean properly, slip into our pajamas, collapse in his bed.
I don't know what the fuck this means, how I'll feel in the morning, what I'll do after the wedding.
But right now, I'm exactly where I want to be.
In his bed, in his heart, in his life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Liam
Briar West is naked in my bed.
An angel in the soft morning light.
A vixen in the crisp white sheets.
Holding me together.
Tearing me apart.
What was it she said about that Japanese pottery? Finding broken pieces, filling them with gold, gluing them back together.
It's beautiful, but it means breaking.
Right now, that's not an option.
But then, right now, I can't think about the world outside this room. Only Bri. Her serene expression, her soft skin, her sweet groan.