His Property(32)
“Yes. Twice a week. Dinner, a movie, whatever, but I don’t want to be hidden away in your house.”
“I don’t date.”
“That’s bullshit. I’ve seen you date. I’ve seen pictures of you out.”
“Those are events, Emery, not dates. And you are more than happy to accompany me to events.”
“Fine,” I said. “I mean, okay. But I want to go out, too.”
“I’m very busy.”
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“Fine. Twice a week. One you pick, one I pick.”
“Agreed.”
“Next, I want to know things about you.”
“You do know things about me.” His arm snaked around my waist and he slid me across the top of the table toward him. He nuzzled his face into my neck, inhaling my scent. “You know how to kiss me until I’m crazy. You know how to suck my cock until I’m so hard I can’t take it. You know how to use your pussy to clench me so tight I explode.”
My hair was still slightly damp from the bath and he smoothed it away from my face as the warm night air slid over my skin and made me shiver. His lips brushed over the spot right under my ear, and butterflies fluttered around in my stomach.
“I’m not talking about sex,” I said, pulling away. “I’m talking about things about you.”
I scooted away from him on the table, turning to face him and crossing my legs.
He regarded me across the table, his eyes burning bright as his gaze slid over my body.
“I’m serious, Liam.”
“I am, too. As a heart attack.”
“Don’t try to be cute.”
“If you think I’m so cute, why don’t you come over here?”
“Liam!”
“Fine.” He sighed and looked up at the sky. “What do you want to know?”
What I really wanted to know was why he was so upset that I’d been talking to his mother on the phone before, why he was so intent on punishing me in his basement, where those scars came from, who Vienna was. But my instinct was to start with something simpler and less complicated, like how old he was when he lost his virginity, or what he was like when he was younger.
I wanted to know those things, too. I wanted to know everything about him. But to start with a simple question like that would have been a copout. Because when I told him I wanted this to be real, I meant I wanted it to be real.
Not just me finding out what he was like in high school or if he played T-ball when he was a kid. Real things.
And to pretend otherwise would be disingenuous. So I went right for the question.
“How did you get those scars? What happened?”
He shook his head. “Emery.”
“What? I told you how I got mine.”
“That’s different.”
“How is it different? It’s the same thing.”
I felt the shift between us, the air becoming heavy with meaning and anticipation. A second ago I’d been pushing him for things. Dates, my phone… and he’d handled it well, even been joking around.
But now I’d pushed the conversation toward something even more dangerous and forbidden. He got up to go, but this time I was the one to call out to him.
“Liam,” I said.
He turned to look at me.
“Please. Stay.”
He stared at me with those dark eyes and my heart broke. Whatever the circumstances that had caused those scars were dark and twisted and kept buried deep inside of him.
I got up and went to him, wrapped my arms around his neck.
He turned his head away from me, but I wasn’t going to let him push me away. I wanted to let him know that no matter what I was going to stay, that I wasn’t going to give up on him.
“You don’t have to tell me right now,” I said. “But please, I just want you to try.”
“Fine,” he said. “But it’s going to be on my own time.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
He kissed me then, his mouth moving over my lips slowly, and he pressed into me, his hands sliding through my hair then roaming over my body before coming back to touch my face as the kiss deepened.
His tongue moved past my lips, forcing them to part as his hands roamed my body. I pulled away when his hands reached down and squeezed my ass.
My core was pulsing, my pussy damp. Every nerve ending in my body was aware of his presence, right there, so close. It was going to be a constant struggle to not make this always all about sex and control when my whole entire body, my whole entire being, wanted to submit to him, wanted his hands all over me, touching me, coaxing me, owning me.
A plane flew overhead, so close it felt as if we could touch it. The wind kicked up at the same time, making it feel as if the plane was blowing our hair back, and we stood there, staring up at the sky, both of us watching as the plane finally touched down on the runway in the distance.