His Property(35)

Liam groaned.

“Emery. Oh, Emery.”

He pulled me to him, taking my leg and sliding it up over his hip until his cock was nestled between my legs.

“Keep your thighs together,” he whispered roughly in my ear.

I did as he said, clenching my thighs around his hard dick, until he was nestled against the slit of my pussy, searing hot and throbbing. But I didn’t move.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You need to know it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you. She was sick.”

“I know.”

“You are beautiful and perfect.”

The tears were flowing down over my cheeks now, and he kissed them away. His dick twitched between my legs, slick now with my desire, which was at an all-time high, stronger than almost anything I’d ever experienced in my entire life.

But I knew he didn’t want to make this about sex, even though I could tell it was taking everything inside of him, all of his self-control not to fuck me.

“Why me?” I whispered. “Why do you want me?” This was me, laid bare to him, voicing the deepest darkest thought I’d had ever since this had started to become real. “Is it because of the kidnapping?” I asked. “Is that the only reason why?”

“Oh, Emery,” he whispered. “God, Emery, no. Whenever I’m with you, I can’t help wondering why you want me.”

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and he kissed me again, his hands gliding through my hair as he slid his cock into me, soft and slow, letting me get used to the width of him.

He began to fuck me slowly, grinding his hips against mine, each thrust pushing him more and more inside of me, the tightness in my pussy starting to dissipate, even though he was stretching me to my hilt.

One hand was in my hair, the other moved down to my clit and thumbed it, causing my sex to become even wetter than it was, the slickness allowing him to push further into me with each stroke.

When he was all the way into me, he held me flush against him, our bodies completely pressed to each other.

He held the back of my head softly and murmured my name as he rocked in and out, fucking me, possessing me, making me his.

“Liam,” I cried. “God, Liam.” I came, his name escaping from between my lips over and over as the beat of my orgasm built to its peak and crashed over me. With the first clench of my pussy I felt him empty into me, spurting his cum into me as he continued to fuck me, making me take it.

He murmured my name like it was a prayer, and as we lay there, sweaty and spent, our limbs tangled together, his cock still buried inside my pussy, I began to feel like maybe, after all, I would be the one to save him.



* * *

He stayed inside of me, his cock semi-hard the whole time, even though he’d just orgasmed.

We laid like that for hours, stroking each other, half-asleep, waking only to kiss each other or stroke each other’s backs.

Every so often, he whispered my name, and one time, as I was drifting off and half asleep, I thought I heard him murmur, “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Something had shifted between us.

I fell into real sleep around 4 am, and when I woke again a couple of hours later, I thought it was because of the sunlight that had begun to stream in through the half-open blinds, or maybe because the planes had resumed their take off and landings, the roar of their engines close as they flew overhead.

But then I became dimly aware of two things at once.

First, Liam pulling away from me, sliding out of me, his hands leaving my body, his body heat taken from me and leaving me shivering.

Second, someone was pounding on the door of the jet.

Adrenaline and panic slid through me, and instantly I was wide awake, sitting up in bed.

A woman’s voice came from outside the plane. “He’ll want to see me,” she said. “Tell him I’m here and I know he’ll want to see me. This is ridiculous, and once Mr. Rutherford finds out, he’ll have you fired, mark my words.”

“Liam?” I tried. Unlike me, he didn’t seem panicked. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants and was sliding his arms into the Stanford sweatshirt he’d worn yesterday.

“It’s okay.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s fine,” he said. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Stay here,” he said. “And don’t move. Do you understand?”

I nodded, too shocked to say anything or ask him anything else.

A second later, I heard the door of the jet open.

“What the hell is going on?” Liam demanded.

“Oh, thank God,” the woman’s voice said. “Liam, these cretins wouldn’t let me in to see you.” By cretins, I assumed she meant the security guards, which made me instantly not like this woman, whoever she was. I wasn’t sure why, but I just didn’t. It was the way she acted like she didn’t need them to protect her, like they were annoying her instead of working their asses off to keep me and Liam safe. I knew about women like her. She was exactly the type that would have under tipped at a restaurant, the type that would complain about her service at McDonald’s, taking it out on some poor drive-thru window worker for something that wasn’t even their fault.