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Her calves curled around his ass, clinging to the denim of his jeans—part of her found it ridiculously sexy that he hadn’t even taken the time to shove them down. She raised her arms, moaning when he reached up to snare both wrists in a punishinggrip, stretching her body along the wall as he lifted her hands well above their heads.
Hooking his fingers into the vee of her shirt, he yanked, popping buttons and ripping the fabric open. The cups of her bra were dragged down over her breasts, exposing the rosy, pearled nipples to his mouth.
Sierra squirmed uncomfortably, pierced to the point of pain by his cock while his mouth tortured one tight peak, then the other. “Liam,please.”
“Tell me what you want, minx.”
Goddamn him, her bodily fluids were soaking the front of his jeans and he wanted toteaseher? Her hands fisted in frustration; heknewwhat she wanted, what they both needed.
“F-Fuck me, please, Sir,” she whispered.
Teeth bit down on her nipple, igniting her pain receptors from breast to clit. She yelped, her hips jerking, impaling her to the point she didn’t think he’d ever be able to leave.
“Please, Sir,” she said again, strengthening her voice, vocalizing her desperation. “Please fuck me.”
“Good girl.” Pulling back from her breasts, Liam grinned at her, an edge of wolfishness in his eyes. “I missed you, minx. I missed this.”
Before she could respond, he was pulling out of her, dragging his cock from the heart of her until the head caught at her entrance. He drove back in, slamming into her again and again, fucking her like each slap of flesh on flesh was vital to his next breath.
God, she’d missed him too. The words swirled in her head, getting swept up into the rhythm of his cock hammering inside her, the beat of her heart, the pulse of pleasure stirring yet again in her core. They panted out between moans, between the whimpers and sharp, shocked cries when he forged too deep.
I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
She chanted them as her back arched, an orgasm ripping through her nervous system as destructively as a wrecking ball through a wall. She screamed them when he ruthlessly forced a third climax from her ruined body.
She whispered them through broken sobs as he finally let himself go, as he ground himself deep and filled her aching core with what it wished for most, as her body went limp and surrendered to the one who held her heart.
Finally, she felt like she’d come home.
Chapter Two
Liam
The photography studio was a work of art.
Acres of sparkling glass offered views of the valley outside; in the daylight, Liam imagined it was beautiful, a wide open landscape full of nature at its finest. Even now, in the dark of a winter night, there was nothing but possibilities waiting on the other side.
The interior was classy, ultra professional, yet it exuded warmth and welcome—not just from the fire pit in the middle of the main room, currently surrounded by several Masters and Mistresses.
Levi had already given them the grand tour, showing off the prop room with immense pride. There was everything from BDSM equipment to a multitude of different themes for the bedroom he’d built specifically for his work.
Clients who visited Serenity could be anything, anywhere they wanted with a little prior notice—Levi’s green screen and variety of costumes made anything possible for those paying for the privilege.
Now, however, the studio wasn’t immersed in the sultry atmosphere of an erotic photography session. Clothes were still on, spirits were high, and although the alcohol flowed freely, there wasn’t any rowdiness or tension.
Impressive, he thought, given the volume of testosterone and dominance in the room. It throbbed like a heartbeat, quiet and steady, beneath the laughter and conversation. The strong thread of an alternative lifestyle.
Sipping from the bottle in his hand, Liam approved of the beer. Not a national brand but bought directly from a local brewery, he was giving serious thought about asking Evander to trial the label in Serenity’s bar.
On the floor by his feet, curled up on a sheepskin rug in front of the blazing fire, Sierra cushioned her cheek on her arm and watched the flames dance with sleepy fascination. She’d angled her face so she could flick her gaze to him every now and then, making sure he didn’t go anywhere.
Some of the tension she’d carried in her face, neck, and shoulders was gone, he noted with satisfaction. Just as a lot of what he’d been hauling around with him wasn’t quite as heavy.
They still had issues, there were still mountains to climb and chasms to crawl through, but reconnecting on a physical level was—to his mind—a positive step forward out of the shit sucking them down.
Fuck, never in all his years had he known a sub to come so quickly without foreplay. Not on the first stroke of his cock. Yet Sierra fell apart as though he’d spent hours rousing her to peak.
