Page 75 of Desperate Measures
I just shook my head.
An air of violence hung over his shoulders and I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. In fact, I was pretty sure if I checked, my panties would be soaked.
Liam looked sinister and alluring. Dangerously beautiful in a way that made it impossible to look away.
His dark hair fell messily around his face, as if the world couldn't even touch him enough to tame it.
His sharp cheekbones, the hard line of his mouth, and the way his emerald eyes seemed to cut through me with a kind of raw, unfiltered emotion—it all came together in something otherworldly.
In that moment, with his hands bloodied from defending my honor, Liam looked like my very own dark avenging angel.
The kind of angel who didn't just come to save. Oh no. He was there to seek retribution. To make sure the whole world felt the weight of his wrath.
And though a part of me knew that kind of power was unhinged, there was another part of me that couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
To him.
“Sweetheart, talk to me. Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine. He, uh, is he?”
“Don’t worry about him, Sweetheart. I’m taking you home now. Maggie?” he said, flicking his gaze towards his sister.
“I got this. Go take care of your wife.”
Liam nodded. Grabbing my elbow, he led me out of the room, to the garage and the SUV, waiting to take us home. The driver must have picked up on the tension because he was quiet, too.
We didn’t speak the entire ride. When we got home, the second we were out of the elevator and I’d opened the door to the condo, all that tension just snapped.
“Liam,” I gasped as his hands and lips found me in the darkened hallway.
He tore at my clothing, driven by some primal need I couldn’t possibly understand. He was whispering things, deliciously naughty things, right into my ear.
His hands felt hot and heavy, their weight welcomed, and it was like he branded me with them.
All I knew was I wanted them on me. I wanted him with every fiber of my being.
Was his reaction a little over the top, considering what had happened or didn’t?
I mean, Clint hadn’t had time to do anything. Not really.
But the things he said.
What he could have done.
All that hung in the air between Liam and me like a dense fog and I wanted to force it all to just go away. I shivered, but not from the cold.
“Fuck.” Liam grunted, tearing at my pants and spinning me around. He pushed me back against the wall, his mouth claiming mine in a punishing, bruising kiss I welcomed.
I wanted him to mark me. I wanted everyone to know who I belonged to.
“You’re mine, you hear me?” he growled, and hauled me up higher, using the wall for leverage.
I heard his buckle opening, and then I felt him there. Liam flexed his hips and caught my moan with his mouth. He filled me with one hard thrust, stroking along that secret spot only he seemed to find.
“Husband,” I whimpered, clutching at his shoulders with my fingers.
“That’s right. I’m your husband. Me. Only me. Anyone who thinks about touching you is gonna wind up a bloody mess just like that motherfucker, you got that? Now, tell me you’re mine.”