Page 80 of Freeing Emily

“When do you want to go see her?” He asks.

I shrug. “I don’t really want to.”

Liam runs a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Emily, this is serious –.”

“I’m not the one who tossed my medications in the toilet, Liam.”

Annoyance builds in my body, and I don’t bother pushing it down. I’m in no mood to be treated like a child. No mood to be chastised.

“I thought what I was doing would be the best thing for you.”

He steps into the bathroom and begins undressing.

“Wh- What are you doing?” I ask, watching his muscles ripple with his movements.

My core pulses and squeezes, searching for something to grip onto.

Liam ignores my question, instead stepping into the shower with me. The space shrinks as his large frame fills it.

I crane my neck when he steps closer to me. His eyes travel down my body and the heat of them warms my blood. If it weren’t for the water already making my skin flush, he would see just how much his stare affects me.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, raising his hand to cup my face. His thumb strokes my bottom lip.

My eyes find the tattoo on his chest again and I lightly touch it with my fingers. He releases a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Why did you say this was me?” I ask, stroking the intricate design of the butterfly wings.

“I might not have been with you, Emily.” He cups my jaw, tipping my head to meet his eyes. “But you were always with me.”

Goosebumps rise over my entire body. My pussy all but screams for his attention. Liam has always been able to draw primal reactions from my body.

A satisfied smirk spreads over his lips. His free hand caresses my thigh, moving upward at a snail's pace. I close my eyes, savoring the feel of his callused fingers rubbing against my skin.

“You’re still mine, Féileacán.” He whispers in my ear. His breath brushes over my sensitive skin and I shiver. When his fingers reach the apex of my thighs, I suck in a sharp breath.

He leisurely slides his finger through my wet folds. He hums, pleased with the evidence of my arousal.

“Still so responsive to me.”

“Uh huh,” I whimper, tilting my hips, opening up to him.

“Tell me you’re still mine, Emily,” he orders, voice husky with lust.

His thumb circles my clit, sending a bolt of electricity through my nerves.

“Tell me you’ll let me take care of you like I should have the first time.”

My hands move to sit on his shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh as he continues to stroke me. My orgasm steadily builds, I’m a mess of whimpers and moans.

I whine in protest when he stops his movements.

“Why did you stop?” I pout.

“Tell me.”

I study his face, seeing the unwavering desire and need in his eyes.