13. Liam

Chapter thirteen

Liam

From the moment we walked into this motel room, I knew this was inevitable.

Fuck .

From the moment I saw her in my office on her first day, I knew I would claim her.

I grip Shiloh’s chin, lifting her to her feet. "Turn around and bend over," I growl low, the words slipping from my mouth like a secret meant only for her ears.

She follows the command without hesitation, her body obedient yet teeming with a silent challenge that's been brewing between us since she first walked into my office. As she bends, hands flat on the mattress, I struggle to keep my composure.

My palms land on her hips, fingers fumbling with the fabric of her sweats as I hook them around the waistband. This isn't just about lust—it's about crossing a line we've been toeing for too long.

"Stay still," I command, even though it's myself I'm trying to rein in.

I tug her sweats down just enough for the soft cotton of her panties to come into view. There’s a wet spot on them even from these brief moments of tension, from our argument, and the sight of her, exposed like this and aroused just from talking to me, ignites something primal within me.

Her breathing comes out ragged and uneven, a symphony to my ears that tells me all I need to know.

She's as lost in this moment as I am.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath at the sight of her ass, the curve of her thighs. Shiloh wants this, craves me—it's written in every shake of her breath, every tense line of her body waiting for what's next.

My hands glide over the smooth skin of her ass; the anticipation hangs heavy in the room.

Right. I said I was going to punish her.

She wants me to punish her.

Raising my hand, I bring it down in one swift, controlled motion. The sound of the spank echoes in the otherwise silent room, a sharp report that marks the crossing of an invisible boundary. Shiloh gasps, the sound raw and vulnerable, filling the space between us with electricity that's impossible to ignore.

My left hand clenches on her hip, fingers digging into her flesh to steady her, to keep her present in the moment with me. I slide my palm over her once more, the warmth from the spank lingering on her skin and mine. Another smack lands, her ass jiggles slightly, and it's like I've struck a chord within her.

Shiloh's noises are sinful—utterly decadent. Moans and gasps that slice through the thick air of restraint I’m trying so hard to maintain. Her back arches, pushing into the touch that both punishes and pleases. Every sound she makes is a testament to the desire we're no longer able to deny.

"Damn it, Shiloh," I breathe out, my voice coming out strained.

There’s a storm inside me, a tempest of words clawing their way up my throat, all the filthy things I want to say to her. But they get stuck, lodged in a place where fear and longing collide. If I let them out, if I tell her how much I crave her, how I've fantasized about this moment... there would be no going back.

I can't afford to lose myself completely—not yet. Not when I know I could drown in her, in us, and never resurface.

"Listen to me, Shiloh," I command, my voice low and lined with the razor edge of control. “You're my assistant, and you need to learn to act like it. That's what you need to focus on."

She's trembling now, her breath hitching between compliance and rebellion.

"Yes, Liam," she whispers, her voice a tender surrender that sends a jolt straight to my hard cock.

"Good girl," I say, the words rumbling from deep within me as I spank her one last time, harder than before. The sound reverberates off the bare walls, a sharp crack that seals her promise. “In this job, you need to forget your morals. Do you understand me?”

"Yes, yes..." she breathes out, her voice laced with pain and pleasure.

The sight of her, bent over and at my mercy, is too much. It's a vision that's haunted my dreams, and now it’s here in front of me, more vivid and enticing than any fantasy.

I drop to my knees behind her, an animal growl tearing from my throat. "Now for your reward..."

I don't give myself time to think, to question what I'm doing, or why I'm breaking every rule I’ve set for myself. Instead, I bury my face in the softness between her thighs, the fabric of her panties a mere veil between my mouth and her heat.

Her groan fills the room, low and guttural, vibrating through me. She braces herself against the bed, her hands clutching at the duvet as if it can anchor her to reality—or maybe anchor her to the moment, to the forbidden act that we can't stop chasing.

Licking her through the thin cotton, I savor the hint of sweetness that is uniquely Shiloh. My hands grip her hips, pulling her closer, urging her to grind against my face. Her muffled cries tell me all I need to know about her pleasure, about the precipice she’s teetering on.

This is madness, utter insanity, and yet, it feels like the sanest thing I've ever done.

"Shiloh," I murmur against her, my voice vibrating through the thin material. "I need more… I need you."

Her response is a breathless litany of my name, mixed with pleas that stoke the fire burning inside me.

"Yes, Liam, please, yes..." Her words are like fuel on the flames, urging me to claim what I've been denying myself.

The taste of her seeps into my senses, and I can't get enough—it's intoxicating, addicting. Better than any high-powered deal or luxury I've ever experienced. It's just Shiloh, raw and unfiltered, and it's fucking incredible.

"Mm, Liam," she begs, and I'm powerless to resist.

With a firm grip, I drag her panties down, exposing her completely to my hungry gaze. The sight of her, bare and glistening with arousal, sends a surge of dominance through my veins. I reach up, sliding my fingers inside her, and she gasps, her body convulsing at the new sensation.

"Fuck," I swear under my breath as she clenches around me. I relish the feel of her, so hot and tight as if she's made for me. With the rhythm of my tongue and the thrust of my fingers, I push her towards release.

"Please, don't stop," she cries out, her voice breaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

I double my efforts, determined to watch her unravel beneath my touch. She's close—I can feel it in the way her body starts to shake, in the desperate movements of her hips seeking friction.

"Come for me, Shiloh," I command, my words muffled against her flesh.

And she does, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her cries fill the room, music to my ears, as she comes undone on my tongue and fingers. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated triumph—claiming her pleasure as mine, even if I know deep down that this is a line we should have never crossed.

But right now, none of that matters because all I can think about is how perfect she feels and how much I want this to never end.

The possessive surge within me swells, a primal claim that she's mine in ways her body is only just beginning to understand. My mind races with a question I can't voice, a dark curiosity about my brother—did he ever make her shatter like this? But the answer is etched in every tremble of her flesh…

Chris never touched her soul the way I do.

"Shiloh," I whisper, my voice laced with a raw edge as I stand, bending to bring my lips to her ear. My fingers are still inside her, thrusting slowly and steadily. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Her breath hitches, a sharp intake that tells me she's felt the shift, the deepening of our connection. "Yes," she replies, her voice thick with desire and a hint of awe at the enormity of what we're doing. "So badly, Liam. It's all I've wanted... all I've thought about for days."

"Then strip," I command, the word falling between us like a gauntlet.

She scrambles to obey, her movements fevered and clumsy with need as she peels away her clothes, revealing the softness of her skin that I've only dared imagine until now. I mirror her actions, my own attire discarded carelessly onto the floor. She starts to turn, but I stop her, my hand on her back.

"Keep your hands on the bed," I order, my voice low but unwavering. It’s a lifeline to sanity, because if I dare to look into those eyes, I might just drown in the sea of emotions they reflect, might say things that can't be taken back.

She obeys, her fingers gripping the blankets, knuckles white. The sight of her submission, the trust she places in me—it’s intoxicating. I drag my hand down her spine, a trail of fire in its wake, as I position myself behind her. Her body trembles with anticipation, and I can feel the heat radiating from her core.

I align myself with her, my heart pounding against my ribs with a ferocity that threatens to break me apart. This is more than lust; it's a claim, an affirmation of what's been building between us for years.

And as I brace myself at the precipice of crossing that final line, I know without a doubt that there's no turning back from this moment.

"Shiloh..." My voice is a ragged growl, filled with all the emotion I've kept caged. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she breathes out, the word barely a sound yet echoing like thunder in the charged silence. "I’m ready, Liam..."

"Shiloh," I groan as I finally give in to the temptation I've been fighting for too long. I sink into her warmth, and the world narrows down to the sound of our mingled breaths and the connection that binds us so completely.

Her back arches, a silent scream of pleasure that punches the air from my lungs. She begs for more, for me, and I can't help but give her everything she asks for. My hands tighten on her hips, not to control or to possess, but to anchor myself in this storm of sensation.

"God, you're incredible," I manage, my voice coming out strained as I watch her hands clutch at the blankets, her long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder. It's the raw beauty of her abandonment, the way she trusts me to take her apart and put her back together, that unravels me.

Never have I seen anything more beautiful than Shiloh in this moment, never felt anything more right than being inside her.

A rhythm takes over, primal and insistent. It builds quickly, each thrust driving us closer to the edge. I've wanted Shiloh for what feels like forever, the need growing sharper with each passing day she's worked for me. Now, it feels like I'm losing control, that all-consuming desire threatening to consume me whole.

"Fuck..." The curse slips from my lips as I feel her clench around me. Without thinking, my hand comes down on her ass, a sharp smack that fills the room. She gasps, her body tightening even more, and a feral part of me awakens, hungry and unstoppable.

I can't hold back, don't want to ever stop. The idea of a life without this—without her—is unthinkable. I slap her ass again, each strike bringing forth a delicious response from both of us.

"You're mine, sweetheart," I pant, every muscle in my body straining toward the inevitable climax. “My obedient little slut… fucking perfect.”

The truth is, I don't just want her now—I want her always. I want to wake up to her tangled in my sheets, come home to her laughter, and drown in her passion night after night.

This isn't just lust; it's something deeper, something that's been brewing inside me since the moment I laid eyes on her two years ago.

"Fuck, Shiloh..." My voice is a hoarse whisper, my body moving with a fervor that matches the pounding of my heart. I'm close, so damn close to spilling myself inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.

I lean down, my breath hot against her ear. "You’re so beautiful bent over and screaming for me," I rasp out, the words barely resembling my usual controlled demeanor. I'm lost in the sensation of her, the tight warmth of her enveloping me. "Your pussy... it's perfect. God, you’re squeezing me so damn tight."

Her strangled cry is my undoing. With a surge of desire that borders on desperation, I reach around to touch her breasts.

The moment my fingers graze her skin, a jolt shoots through me. It's as if I've touched a live wire, the connection sparking an electric charge that consumes me completely.

These are the tits I've fantasized about, the ones I've barely allowed myself to think about for fear of crossing a line from which there was no return.

And it's that electric touch, that forbidden caress, which sends Shiloh tumbling over the edge. Her body clenches around me in waves, pulling me into the eye of her storm. I can't hold back any longer.

"Shiloh!" I groan, my voice raw with emotion as I bury myself deep inside her, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. I spill into her, a heat that marks every inch of her inner walls with my presence, a claim that's as instinctual as it is reckless.

As I collapse against her, my chest heaving, I'm hit with the weight of what we've done. It's a mistake—one that could upend our lives and send ripples through relationships already hanging by a thread. But as I press my face into the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of sugar and sex, I can't fathom how something so wrong feels so damn right.

“Get in bed,” I command, my voice low. “And don’t put your clothes on… I want to fuck you again tonight.”

She does as she’s told, crawling into bed, and I curl around her back with a possessive arm over her, my hand grasping her breast and idly playing with her peaks. I can’t look her in the eye, can’t acknowledge what we’ve done.

And yet, I’m gonna do it again.

Yes, this was a mistake… but as long as we’re stuck in this motel room, I’m going to make the most of it.