Page 81 of The Chef and the Countess

Chapter 24

Liam opened her door and peered into the hallway. “All clear,” he whispered.

Taking her hand, they ran toward his flat at the end of the hall. Once inside, he closed the door with a quiet snick, then swiftly gathered her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

The kisses grew more frantic as they headed toward his bedroom. His insides were aflame, and so was his desire. Taking her arms, he gently pushed her against the wall, then lifted her right leg to rest on his hip. Liam thrust against her, and Celia moaned.

He wanted to be inside her—now. But, patience. A frantic joining had its place, but not here. First, there was Celia’s injury. Second, Liam wanted to bring her the pleasure she had never experienced in her marriage. He wanted to be the man who made her come entirely apart.

Liam dove in, thrusting his tongue into her luscious mouth in concert with the thrust of his hips. “What are you feeling,” he growled. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want,” she said breathlessly, “I want—everything. Touch me.”

“As my lady commands,” Liam replied huskily. His hand tunneled under her wool skirt, making a slow descent up her shapely leg. Celia responded to every slide of his fingertips across her skin with a combination of sighs, moans, and trembling. As he surmised, Celia was passion incarnate, all of it pent up and awaiting release. He located the slit in her drawers and then felt the wetness. Oh, so ready. “You’re wet. For me.”

“Only you,” Celia whispered as she caressed his cheek.

He quickly thrust two fingers inside of her, and she gasped. So tight. Liam started slow, moving his fingers in and out of her feminine core while brushing the pad of his thumb across that sweet nub. In increments, he moved faster, and Celia responded by grasping his shoulders and digging her nails into him. Her breath came in sharp pants, intermingled with moans of such longing that Liam thought he would spill in his trousers. “Come for me,” he urged. “Let yourself go. Look at me.”

Celia gasped but did not look up.

“Look. At. Me.”

She raised her head, meeting his gaze. “I want to see you fly. Feel it.”

“Oh. My God,” she rasped. “I’ve never—” With a piercing cry, she reached her peak. Celia looked beautiful with her head thrown back, a look of awe and satisfaction on her lovely face. She shuddered, her inner muscles clutching his fingers as if they did not want to let go.

Liam laid kisses across her cheek, then captured her lips. After releasing her, he grabbed her rear, lifting her far enough so that he could carry her to his bed. He lowered her onto it, then pulled his white shirt over his head without unbuttoning it. He continued to undress, tossing his clothes in a heap on the carpet.

He stood before her, completely exposed, inside and out. His desire was plain, his love tangible and potent. Celia’s gaze leisurely wandered over him, and she smiled. “You are entirely gorgeous.” She stepped closer, and when she laid her hand against his chest, it was his turn to moan and tremble. Bloody hell, he was putty in her hands. She touched him all over. Her fingertips left his skin aflame. And when she ran the tip of her finger along his hardened length, he lost all patience.

“Your clothes… Allow me.” Liam slowly but swiftly undressed her, and when she stood naked before him, he drank in her beauty. All thoughts of patience left him.

He. Could. Not. Wait.

Taking her hand, he led her to his bed. “Lay on your uninjured side. That’s it, love.”

He opened his bedside table drawer, located a sheath, and slipped it on. Then he lay beside her, his arm curling about her waist. His erection prodded between her legs, and she lifted her leg enough he was able to seat himself at her entrance. “I’ll take it easy, love, because of your injury.” Slowly, he thrust inward.

“Yes, Oh, how I have waited for this,” Celia moaned.

“Aye, love. So have I.” He clasped her breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple as his slides took on a more urgent rhythm. “If it’s too much, if I hurt you, tell me,” he whispered, laying kisses on her neck.

“More. Give me more.”

He pounded into her, the crescendo building. It had never been like this with the few women he’d been with. Not even close. Celia cried out first. He held her closer, riding the wave of her release. Then, he let himself go. Colors burst behind his closed eyes, and every muscle in his body tightened from the overwhelming rush of his climax.

But what amazed him more than the intensity of their lovemaking was the wave of complete and utter bliss that followed.

Liam was in love for the first and last time in his life.

* * *

Celia lay curled into Liam’s arms as they tried to catch their breath. How could she describe what had just occurred? It was more than she’d ever dreamed of. Every touch, kiss, and thrust were seared into her memory. “I never knew it could be like that,” she whispered.

“Neither did I,” Liam responded gruffly. “There’s so much more for us to explore, and we’ll have a lifetime to take and give pleasure.”

Celia sighed. “Liam.”