Wicked Heart (11 page)

He’s not allowed to say stuff like that. Not when the only valid response is to drag him into a shadowy corner and mount him.

“Liss?” I look up at him as strong arms tighten around me. “Come home with me. If you don’t want to have sex, that’s fine. Talk to me. Touch me. Whatever you feel
comfortable with. Just be with me. Please. We don’t have much time left. And I have the strongest feeling that having part of you is going to be better than having all of anybody
else.”

I close my eyes and sigh. How can I say no to that?

Without another word, I take his hand and lead him out of the party.

Anticipation is tingling in all of my limbs, making me hot and restless. Liam seems equally tense. His hands are shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around
nervously before coming back to me, time and again. My face. My breasts. My legs.

All of me.

The sexual tension is making the confines of his apartment stifling, and the boxes of his belongings that are stacked against the wall don’t help.

He stares at me for a few, spine-tingling seconds, and then he seems to come to his senses. “I’m being a terrible host. Can I get you anything?” He walks the two steps to the
fridge. “I have . . . uh . . .” He opens the door and peers in. “Well, not a lot.” I can see that the fridge is practically bare. He shuts it and turns to me. “I spent
all my food money on the airline ticket. I’ve been surviving on crackers and cheese for most of the week.”

“Nothing wrong with surviving on cheese. I do it all the time. It’s the food of kings.”

He gives me a smile. “If I ever become a big star, I’ll buy a Hollywood mansion with a dedicated cheese room. You can stay over.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier, you go and say that.” I’m not even joking.

His expression darkens. “Is that right?”

We stare at each other, and I swear to God, the walls inch closer.

Liam takes a step forward. “Elissa . . .” The way he says my name makes me step forward, too. Then his hands are on my face, and he’s leaning down, and sweet Jesus, I’ve
never wanted someone to kiss me so much in my entire life. I take a breath and try to keep my eyes open.

“Do you understand how many fantasies I’ve had about you over the past two months?” he asks, his lips almost touching mine.

“If it’s even half the number I’ve had about you, then yes, and I’m embarrassed for both of us.”

“We can compare fantasies later. First, let me do this before I lose my mind.”

He brushes his lips across mine, and we both inhale sharply. He pulls back and opens his mouth a little more to capture my lips in his. Light suction spins tiny shock waves down all my
limbs.

“These lips have been driving me insane. Also, this neck.” Soft kisses trail down my throat. Teeth nibble and tease. “This body. Okay, let’s be honest. All of you.”
He grips my hips and maneuvers me back against the wall. “You’re the most arousing woman I’ve ever met. Will ever meet.”

My pulse thunders in my ears as I stare at his mouth. “I doubt that’s true.”

“Don’t. And I don’t know how, but . . .” He takes my hands from his chest and pushes them into the wall above my head. en he traps my wrists in his hands and squeezes.
Not enough to cause pain. Just enough to make every neuron overload and scream for more. “I know how to please you, Liss. I’ve known it from the first time I saw you.” He squeezes
my wrists again as he grazes over my lips. “I can feel what you need. But I’d still like you to tell me what you want.”

I’m not good at saying what I want. I think that’s why I’ve never orgasmed with a man. I boss people around enough in my professional life—I don’t want to have to
do it in the bedroom. And I definitely don’t want to have to draw a man a map to make me orgasm.

“Say it,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I can see you thinking about it. Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

He winds his fingers between mine and slides them down the wall until they’re beside my head. My breaths are so fast and shallow, I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate.

“Make me come,” I say.

His expression intensifies into pure, primal hunger. “Yes, ma’am.”

Without another word, he pins me to the wall and kisses me like it’s his job.

Oh.

God.

This man. His mouth. The same mouth I’ve fantasized about every day for the past eight weeks. The same sweet lips. Exactly the right amount of suction to drive me crazy.

When he slides his tongue against mine, I lose control. I kiss him back desperately. His hands roam across my body as we kiss, pushing under my clothes, gripping and squeezing flesh. He’s
not gentle. That’s fine with me. Gentle is boring.

I take the opportunity to touch him in all the ways I’ve dreamt about. I explore every muscle. Every hard plane and groove.

I grip his forearms as they tense and release, then run my hands up to his biceps. They flex as he cradles my face and covers my mouth with his. When I push under his T-shirt and run my fingers
along the waistband of his jeans, he grabs my hands and presses them back into the wall, hard.

“We’ve just established I have a job to do. Stop trying to distract me.”

I kiss him deeper. A low rumble echoes in his chest, dark and animalistic. I’ve never heard a sexier noise come out of a man. He kisses my neck, then works his way back up to my ear.

“Take your clothes off,” he whispers. His warm breath makes me shudder. “I need to see you.”

I’m too turned on to even answer, so I nod.

He kisses me once more before he walks over to the bed and sits on the edge.

Nervousness prickles my spine. I like to think I’m con dent with my body, but that’s when I’m with mere mortals. Liam is the definition of masculine perfection. Being open to
his scrutiny is downright intimidating.

“Elissa?” When I look at him, he’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees. If possible, his expression is even more intense than before we kissed. His eyes are penetrating.
Demanding. “Stop thinking. Start with your shoes.”

The roughness of his voice talks straight to the deepest parts of me. Something hot and urgent res in my belly.

I strip off my boots and socks and await further instructions.

He looks at my feet. I didn’t think it was possible for feet to blush, but I swear they do. He brings his gaze back up to my face. “Now the shirt.”

I draw up my T-shirt, then pull it over my head and drop it on the floor. I’m only wearing a plain black bra, but his sudden exhale makes me think he likes it. A lot. His gaze lingers on
my breasts, making them ache for his hands.

He licks his lips. “Very nice. Jeans next.”

I unbutton my black jeans and slide down the zipper. I glance up at him as I push them slowly down my legs. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he sits up straighter. His swollen crotch distracts me
for a moment, but then he clears his throat, and my attention goes back to his face.

When I step out of the jeans and straighten up, he lets out a long breath. “Jesus. Okay. So there you are.” He breathes for a few moments, then stands, and I watch as he clenches and
unfurls his hands. “So much better than the fantasy.”

I’m wearing a black thong. Nothing fancy but kind of small. He studies it intently.

“Turn around,” he says, his voice rough.

I turn. I hear him swear under his breath, then he’s behind me and rough fingers are brushing over my buttocks. He groans and squeezes, then grazes his hands up over my hips, my rib cage.
He traces along the line of my bra under my arms before cupping my breasts as he pulls me back against him.

“You,” he says as he plants soft kisses on my neck, “are fucking perfect.”

Warmth fires in my groin and spreads down all my limbs as I reach behind me to grip the back of his head. This man is too much. Too sexy, too good-looking, too . . . Oh, his mouth. The feel of
his mouth on my shoulder, kissing the side of my neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth.

One arm circles my waist, and he grinds against me. Feeling how hard he is makes me ache even more. My whole body feels swollen and desperate. A large hand caresses my breasts. He finds my
nipples beneath the fabric, and teases them before moving the other hand down my stomach. When he pushes inside my panties and presses tight circles against me, I suck in a moan and close my
eyes.

Oh, this is going to be good. He wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to please me. I may have had only a handful of sexual partners in my nineteen years, but every one of them had been
clueless, the type of lazy lovers who claimed that bringing a woman to orgasm was like finding a unicorn, and so they just couldn’t be bothered. Clearly, Liam can be bothered.
Hot
and bothered, judging by the way he’s breathing against my ear and whispering how good I feel. He seems to be enjoying it almost as much as I am.

He drops his head onto my shoulder as he increases his pace. More pressure. Tighter circles. I anchor my fingers in his hair and hold on for dear life. It helps keep me upright, which is good,
because the thick pleasure that’s coiling in all my muscles makes standing an impossible concept.

When my knees buckle, he scoops me up and lays me on the bed. I’ve barely registered our change of location before he’s sliding o my underwear and crawling between my legs.

“Just so you know,” he says as he pushes my knees apart and kisses the insides of my thighs. “You’re getting kind of loud, and these walls are thin. The whole building
can hear what I’m doing to you in here.”

I’m surprised I’m being loud, considering I can barely speak. “S-sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love it. I’m sure if I try a little harder, I can make you scream.” After a final soft kiss to my inner thigh, he closes his lips over me, and I gasp in
surprise as he kisses me down there with just as much passion and hunger as he did my mouth.

Oh, sweet holy . . . fuck!

I throw my head back and moan so loudly, I startle myself. He hums in satisfaction as he continues to work.

Oh.

Ohh.

Ohhhhhh.

If I thought his mouth was a miracle before he went down on me, I now believe the sole purpose of those amazing lips and tongue is to bring me the most debilitating pleasure imaginable. Every
time I think I can’t feel any more, he proves me wrong.

After an eternity of panting and crying out, every muscle is so tense I’m arching off the bed. He reacts by closing strong hands around my hips and pulling me more firmly onto his
face.

Jesus . . . take the wheel.

Thick pulses start, increasing in frequency in time with his tongue, and I can’t do anything but hold my breath as all of my wire-tight muscles release. The resulting waves of pleasure are
so powerful, I have to bite down on a long, strangled scream.

I squeeze my eyes shut as everything spasms, and when the last shudders move through me, I concentrate on simply breathing. I feel high as Liam kisses his way back up my body. Everything is
fuzzy and nothing hurts.

Wow. Okay, so that’s what it feels like to have someone else bring you to orgasm. I could get used to this.

Soft lips are on my neck, then my chest. I’m still dazed, but my body reacts. When Liam pulls me on top of him so he can remove my bra, I gasp at how hard he is. He sits up and kisses the
swell of my breast, then my nipple. I praise any god who might be listening for Liam Quinn’s perfect, talented mouth. I curl my fingers into his hair as he moves to my other breast, and groan
as he further demonstrates his divine oral powers. I look down to watch, and frown when I realize he’s still completely clothed.

This is not right.

“You intend on stripping soon, right?” I ask. “Because my nakedness is lonely and would like some company.”

“If you want me naked, then by all means. . . .” He pulls us both up to standing. “Go right ahead and make it happen.”

He holds me tight for a moment while the strength returns to my legs, then lets me go and stands back. I can feel his hot-blooded stare all over me as I bend down to remove his shoes and socks.
When they’re off, I stand and look him in the eyes.

“Your shirt,” I say. “Off. Now.”

He suppresses a smile, then reaches over his shoulder to pull off his T-shirt. “Have I told you how hot it is when you boss me around?”

“Not half as hot as when you do it to me.” My voice wavers as I take in his beautiful body. Broad shoulders. Wide, hard pecs. Ridiculously defined abs that lead down to crazy-sexy
hip muscles and a smattering of light hair.

He drops the shirt on the floor. “You like it when I tell you what to do?” I swallow my excess saliva and nod. “In that case, get on your knees, Miss Holt.”

The air of dominance in his voice sends a shiver up my spine. I’ve never had a man be so commanding in the bedroom. I like it.

I keep eye contact as I drop to my knees. From this angle, he looks even more magnificent. Smooth, lightly tanned skin. Rippling muscles. An expression that screams of being so turned on, it
hurts.

“Unbuckle my belt.” His voice has dropped to a dark whisper. My hands tremble as I grab the belt and release it. “Now, the jeans.” I pop the button and pull down the
zipper, then breathe shallowly and stare at the waistband of his boxer briefs as I wait for his next order.

He grips my chin and urges me to look up at him. “Whatever you want to do to me, I’m going to enjoy. Trust me on that.”

I smile. “I know. I was just waiting for permission to blow your mind.”

At that, he clenches his jaw, and the fingers holding my face tighten a little before releasing. “Do it.”

I hold his gaze for a second longer before moving my attention lower. With restrained impatience, I work his jeans and underwear down and off, and then there he is in all his glory.

Good Lord. That’s . . . well, that’s a whole lot of man.

I try to keep my breathing steady as I take in his impressive erection, jutting stiff and proud from his body.

I touch him, gently at first, getting to know the size and weight of him. He takes a ragged breath as he winds his fingers through my hair and pulls it away from my face.