Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (20 page)

“
Shh, shh.
Easy, sweetness,” he husked in a voice filled with unfamiliar emotions.

He felt some of the tension leave her body but noticed her hands were tightly clenched and clutching his vest. He hadn’t planned to find himself alone with Rhiann, stretched out on a wide plush sofa with her soft, sexy body underneath his. It was his thigh, however, pressed high between her legs and rubbing against her mound that was vying for his attention. He was pretty damn sure the heat pulsing off her sex was hot enough to singe his pants.

Satisfaction—a pure, primal pleasure—gathered inside him knowing she was aroused, but his conscience overrode the gratification. Yes, her woman’s body was responding to him but her heart? Her mind? He could smell her fear and feel it in the way she clawed at his chest.

Liam knew he had to win her trust.
No! Fuck that.
There was no winning. She wasn’t an object—something he could buy. He needed to
earn
her trust and be worthy of the faith she placed in him. She deserved nothing less.

Looking down into her captivating eyes, he felt the enticing lure of her powerful sexuality drawing him in. There were fine tremors vibrating all over her lovely body, but what really struck him was the way she was chewing her lips. He felt her nervousness and breathed in Rhiann’s surprising insecurity. She had no idea how deeply she affected him.

Murmuring softly, he traced her beautiful face with his fingers, lingering on her lips—smoothing the puffiness made by his voracious kisses and her own teeth.

“You are so lovely.” He felt his breath spread across her skin. “The young girl I remember was pretty.” His finger traced the arch of an eyebrow as she blinked and stared at him with eyes gone heavy.

“But the woman?”

Liam shifted his entire body, creating a rippling surge where his body joined hers, chest to thigh.

Leaning in, he gently cupped a breast through her dress and squeezed. “The woman is stunning.”

Rhiann’s helpless moan went straight to his groin.

He was glad she wore a dress that was going to limit how much of her flesh he could devour. Frankly, he didn’t think either of them would survive a full-on ravishment right now. What was happening was too raw. Too unpredictable.

Liam was content to have the alluring Rhiann another way—with a devilish seduction that would leave her no doubt that she was beautiful and sexy as hell. He’d make sure of it.

Using his hands, he teased her with slow, steady strokes. Feathering his fingers on the bare skin of her arms, he saw her flesh ripple with goosebumps that felt soft and sexy to the touch.

He’d never given much thought to the many ways a woman could be seduced—wasn’t something ever expected of him. After all, women surrendered their panties with shockingly little incentive.
Tycoon perks
as his brunette spitfire had taunted him. He’d often heard those types of encounters referred to as Power Fucks. Some women did it because of who the guy was. They got off on powerful men.

But Jesus—with Rhiann?
While her seduction was uppermost in his mind, watching her tremble and squirm under him from a simple touch was stretching his control thin.

First of all, feeling her arousal build was fucking beautiful. She was afraid and unsure and yet completely willing under his hands. And secondly—his cock was out of control. When he’d flipped her onto the sofa and spread her legs with his thigh, he caught her scent and a surge of primal lust made his sex heavy and full.

But this wasn’t going to be about him. She was right. He’d become selfish and self-centered—believing everything revolved around him.
His
wants.
His
needs
. His
expectations. Surrendering himself to her pleasure freed Liam of all that and he liked the sensation.

Wondering if he could bring her to orgasm without touching her intimately, Liam took on the challenge. He’d use his words and his hands to calm her fears and beguile her senses. Then, when she couldn’t take anymore, he’d take the trust he’d earned to send her flying.

“You were wearing a blue plaid skirt that night. One of those schoolgirl things. Real short. Too short, as I recall,” he grumbled while his hand caressed the tops of her legs right through her dress.

“It barely covered your ass.” He slipped a hand beneath her and palmed the flesh of her bottom. “Do you remember?”

He was reminding her of the night he’d finally given in to the thundering passion driving him and made hot, desperate love to her on a shitty double bed in his dinky off-campus studio apartment.

She was so cute, staring up at him with those sultry green eyes. When he swept his hand over the cheek of her ass, she squeaked in surprise but nodded her head slightly at his question.

He shifted his position, staying pressed between her legs but able to half recline on an elbow. There was something powerful about feeling her heat and softness underneath him.

“It’s a wonder none of those frat boys went blind from how sexy your long legs looked in that tiny skirt.”

He ran his fingers along the stockinged leg hooked around his knee. “I imagined all sorts of things about your legs that night.”

She whimpered and bit her lip. “Really?” Her voice was like a soft whisper, the sound a balm for his soul. “But you were so mad at me. At first, anyway.”

Liam snorted, amused.
Yeah.
He’d been fucking furious at her for parading around in that naughty schoolgirl outfit. Especially in front of a packed house of hormonal frat boys dispensing a river of alcohol and some highly questionable munchies probably laced with all kinds of shit.

He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose, smiling into her eyes as he pulled back.

“Mad? More like worried, and as I recall, you didn’t exactly play the good girl card that night.”

She looked away and blushed. He wasn’t stupid. Not now and certainly not then. Nineteen-year-old Rhiann was perfectly aware that she was going to get a reaction out of him dressed as she was that fateful night. And anyone else with functioning eyes in their damn heads.

Playing with the lace top of her stocking, he grinned at her and winked. “The high heeled Mary Janes you wore and those white lace socks with the little ruffle should have been declared a hazard, too.”

Getting bolder with his caresses, Liam hooked her leg higher, near his waist, and felt the thud of her heeled shoe on his thigh. Stroking her long limb through the delicate hosiery was the sort of simple pleasure he never knew he was missing.

Wrapping his hand around her calf and effectively pinning her down, he briefly ground his pelvis into hers and groaned. “I love that you always wear heels.”

He looked down and found one of her hands fiddling with the buttons on his vest while the other grasped his forearm as he continued stroking her like a cherished pet.

Laying his palm flat on her stomach, he spread his fingers wide and told her, “This—your stomach, was bare. I remember that, too. You had on a white blouse tied under your boobs. The man’s tie was a nice touch—very Catholic schoolgirl, by the way.”

“I felt ridiculous,” she admitted with a sly grin.

Sliding his palm under her neck, he lifted her head and claimed Rhiann’s pouty mouth for a wet, tongue-wrestling kiss.

“You looked like sex on two legs,” he assured her when the kiss subsided.

She smiled.

“When you bent over to look more closely at the stupid model I’d been building, I caught a flash of panty that almost sent me to my knees.”

The memory of that night overtook his senses. She’d been every inch the virgin sacrifice to his thundering desires. Only he hadn’t known that at the time. She was so beautiful, smart, and such great fun to be around; he never imagined she’d been a complete innocent.
Fool, him.
He hadn’t understood that at the time and was only belatedly beginning to grasp.

Rhiann was a creature of emotion. She loved hard. Was a fierce and supportive friend. Random, indiscriminate sex—just for the hell of it—was never going to be her style. She’d given him the gift of herself that night, and he’d been trying to come to grips with it ever since.

“Do you still?” she asked. “Make models, I mean.”

Jesus,
he thought.
Only Rhiann.
Here they were in the midst of an erotic jaunt down memory lane, reminiscing about the first time they’d made love and she wanted to know if he was still gluing plastic parts together. So much for a calculated seduction!

“Not in a very long time,” he told her. “Now I build real planes and cars.”

Twirling the long velvet ribbon hanging from the bow on her collar through his fingers, he trailed the ends on her cheek. Hearing Rhiann Wilde giggle softly and shiver from a bit of tickling, loosed a tectonic shift inside Liam. For the first time in his life, he felt completely at ease and filled with . . . well, with
feelings.
And those feelings? They were wonderful.

The perpetual scowl he wore melted off his face and his head, normally ringing with noise, was untroubled—a singular sensation that rocked his world. She did that for him. To him. Rhiann was the thing that was always missing. Why shit was forever just a touch off.

One of the reasons she affected him so was that damn mouth of hers. When she wasn’t snapping and snarling at him, she had the most delectable lips. He couldn’t look at them and not think that they were begging for his kiss. And the things he knew she was capable of doing with those pouty lips?
Well, come on.
That was when she really rocked his world. The girl had wicked skill.

But, by far, the thing he enjoyed most about this Wilde woman’s mouth had to be how much trouble it got her into. With a habit of speaking before really thinking things through, he’d been in the ring, going toe to toe, round by friggin’ round with her since day one. She was nothing if not brutally direct and, at times, off-putting with her candor.

While he was toying with the velvet ribbon, she’d relaxed and let her hands roam. Without him realizing it, she’d broken through the layers of clothing he wore and gotten her fingers beneath the vest and shirt, pulling a section free from his pants. He could feel her fingertips in the tiny opening, pressing against his flesh.

His eyes swung to hers.

“Are you going to make love to me?” she asked in a hushed, shaky whisper.

Liam ran the tail of the ribbon across her lips and swore he saw the fleshy ridges pulse. Tugging on the ribbon, he urged her face up and when she offered her lips freely, he took them in a very long, very slow, very,
very
wet kiss that left them both struggling to breathe.

When he released her mouth, he saw how her eyes glittered and felt the desire coming off her body. They both knew he could take her if he wanted.

“No,” he murmured with his mouth still hovering near hers.

“Oh,” she pouted with a grunt.

God. The lady was adorable.

Knowing they were coming to the end of this encounter, Liam reached again for her ass, slipping his big hand beneath the dress to caress her warm skin.

“Heyyy,” he drawled softly. “Don’t pout.”

She frowned at him and made a little moue with her lips. Oh, god.
Yes, please. May I have another,
begged the voice inside him.

“I’m not pouting.”

He lost a second’s beat as he was sucked into the sensation of her fleshy ass under his firm touch. She had a toned but very sexy bottom that had him thinking all sorts of dirty thoughts.

“Yes, you are,” he teased. “But don’t. We’re not there yet, sweetness.”

She looked at him with mocking disbelief.

He grinned and gave a handful of her sweet ass a hearty squeeze. “Okay, so we are there—but come on, Rhiann. We shouldn’t be. Not yet. Half an hour ago you wanted to rip my head off, and I’ve got so much shoe leather stuffed in my throat, it’s keeping me up at night.”

“You’re probably right,” she grumbled. “This was a sort of in the moment kind of thing anyway.”

He heard her attempt to shrug off his refusal and act like their attraction was no big deal. He was not having that shit.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he grunted. “I won’t let you pretend this didn’t mean anything just because it won’t end with your underwear in my pocket.”

Yanking her ass closer, Liam stroked his hand over her hip and across her stomach, going lower until he found the elastic of her tiny panties.

“Don’t misunderstand me,
milaya moya.
I very much want to be inside you right now.”

He heard and felt her gasp.

“Are you wet for me,
milaya?
If I took you now, would my cock slide in easy?”

Her gasps turned to whimpers when his hand slipped under the scrap of satin.
God almighty
—actual fucking starbursts lit up inside his head when he found her bare mound. He nearly lost it right then and there.

Well, that certainly was new,
he thought. Groaning like a dying man, he laid his forehead on hers.

“I want you, Rhiann. Want to fuck you so bad that it’s messing with my head. Watching you quiver while my cock tames your sexy body would be such sweet relief—
but you aren’t ready.
We need time. You have to trust me,
milaya.
Completely. It can’t be any other way.”

“Liam,” she cried. “Why are you doing this? I’m so confused.”

The time for finesse was long past. His fingers found the hot liquid proof of her arousal that no amount of refusal could ignore. She was dripping with desire and his thundering lust wanted some form of satisfaction. So, he parted the lips of her sex and pushed a finger inside. He growled uncontrollably when Rhiann rolled her hips in response.

Liam nuzzled into her neck, kissing and nibbling a small exposed patch of skin above her collar as he slowly fingered her. She felt like hot, wet velvet.

“Ah, god—kiss me,” he choked out, his mouth searching for hers. She responded with a fervor he easily matched.

It was so easy to get lost in her kiss, and he did, but after a bit she started trembling violently and her sheath tightened, pulsing around his marauding fingers. The fire in his groin went nuclear. He was definitely going to enjoy watching her come and though he hadn’t gotten her off with just words, he wasn’t sorry about losing that particular challenge. Especially with his fingers buried as she rolled her hips, kissed him wildly, and clenched his fingers so perfectly with her beautiful pussy.