Page 54 of Desperate Measures
I lifted towards him with eager lips.
“Mmm,” I moaned into his kiss, silently cursing for not changing my clothes earlier.
I was wearing a pair of thin cotton lounge pants and an ivory tank top. No bra. No makeup. I just threw my hair in a ponytail before I went to work on the pot pie.
Thank goodness I had already taken my soiled apron off.
Liam didn’t seem to mind my casual attire. In fact, from the way he couldn’t stop touching me, kneading my flesh with his large, warm hands, I thought maybe he liked it.
“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he moaned.
He cupped my ass, squeezing my cheeks as he pressed me to the hardness beneath his zipper. I felt his cock pulse and moisture pooled between my thighs.
“Dinner’s in the oven,” I murmured.
“It can wait. This can’t.”
Then he bent down, picked me up over his shoulder and carried me to our bedroom.
By the time he dropped me on the bed, I was panting.
“Clothes. Off,” he growled, kneeling at the foot of the bed and taking off his suit jacket.
He hadn’t worn a tie, and his eyes were glued to my body as I pushed my pants down to my ankles. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough because he helped, grabbing them and yanking them off the rest of the way.
“Your top. Off,” he growled, going back to his buttons.
He had his belt off by the time I pulled the tank top over my head, and that was as far as he got before falling on top of me.
Liam’s kisses were always so hot, so needy. Like he was desperate to taste me. I never had that. Never had a man act like he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t get inside of me.
I fucking loved it.
“Fuck, I hated leaving this morning before I could do this,” he grunted, reaching between us with one hand while the other stayed around my throat.
The thick head of his cock grazed over my clit, and I moaned. He kept rubbing it around, making me mad with lust before moving lower, deeper to my slick entrance.
The air was thick with desire, and I keened at the sensations he brought me. The man was a magician, conjuring pleasure with the slightest touch. Making me feel desired, sultry, more like a woman than I ever had before.
“You’re so fucking hot for it, aren’t you, Sweetheart?”
Holy. Shit.
That accent of his drove me wild. I loved his filthy words. Loved this sexy game he was playing.
But I was too far gone. Hungry for more. No, I didn’t want teasing. I wanted him.
“Husband, please,” I moaned.
“Move up the bed,” he told me, and I nodded, trying my best to wiggle further up with him still on top of me.
Liam rolled to his back his hand cupping the thick bulge beneath his zipper.
“Come here, Wife. Unzip my pants.”
I moved to obey his command. Straddling his knees, I reached for his zipper. My fingers fumbled as I slid it down and I groaned at how hard he felt beneath my fingers.
“Take my dick out. Good girl,” he praised me, and I whimpered again.