Chapter 13

" A re you okay? You're quiet." Liam wrapped his arms around her from behind, the elevator flying up to the penthouse.

Jazz leaned into him. "Yeah, just annoyed about tomorrow."

Liam pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and Jazz watched in the mirrored wall while her stomach flip-flopped. "It'll be fine, darling. We just have to sit through a couple of hours and then we can come back here or head to your place, and I'll pretend not to be interested in that God awful dating show you like to watch."

Jazz chuckled, bringing a smile to Liam's face. "I knew you were pretending. Hey, did Maggie seem off to you tonight?"

"I didn't notice anything."

The elevator doors opened and Liam tugged her to his front door. She leaned against the cool wall, a relief compared to the sticky summer evening. "I was probably just imagining things after the call with my mom," she said, offhandedly, as Liam unlocked the door. He pushed it open for her and followed her into the beautifully air-conditioned apartment.

She wasn't imagining it. Jazz knew Maggie well enough to know something was bothering her about her arrangement with Liam, she just couldn't tell what. And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. Maggie was the definition of having your life together—she was happily married, a homeowner (several times over, at this point), and had a thriving business. Jazz was… Jazz. And she was happy with that, even if she did sometimes worry that Maggie was waiting for her to catch up. It was normal for best friends to move at different paces. Maggie had always been better at having her life together than Jazz. She was used to Jazz's chaos. She wasn't going to get tired of her after so long. Everything was fine.

"Do you want to just have a quiet night?" he asked, and there was no pressure on his face either way. "We could watch a movie or take a bath—or watch a movie in the bath."

Jazz sucked in a deep breath. A movie in the bath sounded like a dream, but not yet. She needed to distract her racing brain first.

"That sounds nice, but maybe after the plans you promised I'd like," she said, stepping close to him and running her hands up the inside of his t-shirt. Liam's eyes darkened. "I like this one. Who's this by?" she asked, nodding to the painting of the mountain printed on the soft fabric .

"Cézanne. It's one of my favorites. I've always wanted to visit the mountain in Provence."

"Maybe we could go for our Hallow-honeymoon," she joked, lifting the t-shirt over his head and dropping it over the arm of the couch, where Liam had propped the chalkboard up. He'd added their second rule: talking about how you feel isn't optional . Jazz dragged a finger over the painting. "Do you miss it?"

"Provence? I've never been."

"The museum," Jazz clarified.

"Oh. I miss being around the art. But working with Maggie and her team is a lot more fun."

"I like hearing you talk about art," she admitted. "I should've visited when you were still at the museum, so I could see you in your element."

Liam smiled at her, his emerald eyes soft and his dimples pronounced. "We could go sometime."

"I'd like that. Have you been back since you…" How did you politely say had a drunken meltdown and got fired ?

"I haven't," Liam admitted, saving her from having to spell it out. "But if the wedding is anything to go by, I don't mind facing scary things when you're by my side."

"We'll see if you're still saying that after meeting my parents."

Liam laughed as she pulled him toward the bedroom, kicking her sandals off as she went. He stilled her as they passed through the bedroom door, pushing the waistband of her shorts and underwear down. She stepped out of them while he took off her tank top, his fingers lingering over the curve of her stomach.

Jazz wasn't self-conscious about her body, per se, but she was a woman with a body larger than society deemed suitable, and she had her moments when those shitty societal standards got to her. She was only human. Her previous partners had all been kind about her figure, some of them more than kind, but no one had ever looked at her like Liam: like she was a work of art, created just for him. And she had no idea what to make of that.

She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, and Liam wrenched it from her body, tossing it away and nudging her to the bed.

"We haven't talked about safe words," he said, grasping her chin and tilting her face up so she was looking at him. "Do you have one you prefer?"

"Jingle bells," she replied, and Liam loosed a surprised bark of laughter. "The first time someone asked me to pick one, I was at a Christmas party and Jingle Bells was playing in the background."

"Jingle bells it is. And if you can't speak, snap your fingers. I'll be paying attention, no matter how into it we are. I promise."

"I trust you," she said, and his lips lifted. "What's yours?"

He wrinkled his nose. "It used to be peaches until Maggie and my dad ruined that by giving me a cat sibling."

A laugh burst from her lips. "Holy shit," Jazz wheezed. "You know I have to tell Maggie that. "

"I absolutely do not need to know what you tell Maggie about any of this. I can't imagine I'll need to use a safe word, but if I do, I'll borrow jingle bells." He released her chin when she nodded in agreement. "On the bed, darling. Arms above your head, legs spread."

Jazz was intrigued enough to do as she was told without protest, but that didn't stop her from taking her time, crawling up the bed and giving Liam a good look at her ass before lying on her back and spreading her legs.

He watched her until she was settled, his hungry gaze roaming over her body. She raised her arms above her head, arching her back and stretching her body. With the way Liam was looking at her, she should probably have stretched before lying down.

Liam kept his clothes in his giant walk-in closet, so she'd suspected the dark oak dresser in his bedroom was full of the toy collection he'd mentioned. He confirmed her theory when he reached into the bottom drawer and withdrew a set of four padded cuffs. Jazz swallowed, anticipation mingling with that little touch of fear she loved so much when she was tied up.

"Is this okay?" he asked, wrapping one cuff around her ankle.

"Yeah."

He fastened the buckle and repeated with the other ankle. Turning back to the drawer, he withdrew two pieces of silver chain with clips on each end. He clipped a chain to each of the cuffs before crouching down. Even with the mirror above her, Jazz couldn't see what he was doing, but she felt it when the other side of the chain was attached to the bed. After clipping the second chain to the bed, Liam ran a soothing palm over her calf.

"Is that comfortable? I can loosen them."

Jazz tested the chains, trying to draw her legs together. There was very little give, no matter how hard she pulled on them. Just how she liked it.

"It's good," she promised, and Liam kissed her knee before standing and following the same routine with her wrists. The chains were already attached to the headboard, tucked out of sight behind it, and the restraints were just as unforgiving as those holding her legs apart, leaving her entirely at Liam's mercy.

She watched him, her blood thrumming in anticipation, as he unbuckled his belt and slid it through the belt loops of his pants. He made quick work of undressing, and Jazz let out a desperate sigh at the sight of his cock. God, she needed him inside her. She didn't even care about finishing anymore, she just needed to feel—"What's that?"

She tried to sit up to see what Liam was pulling from the middle drawer of the dresser, but the restraints held her down. A curse slipped out of her and Liam turned back just in time to see her pulling at the chains holding her arms to the headboard.

"Not even five minutes," he said, tutting. He turned around and held up a dark purple flogger. Jazz's breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer to her, running the tails over her torso. They were softer than she expected—not leather. Some kind of nylon maybe. "This is a beginner one," Liam explained. "It's designed to sting, but not too badly. You okay with that?"

Jazz nodded, because she was sure her voice would come out as nothing but a squeak if she tried to answer verbally, but Liam wasn't satisfied with that. "Words, darling. I'm not doing anything unless you're one hundred percent comfortable with it."

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm good with it."

"Good." Liam leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before standing up straight and, before Jazz even had time to think about it, snapped the tails of the flogger over her breasts.

"Fuck," she cried as the sting ricocheted across her skin. Her back bowed off the bed as far as the restraints would allow. She fell back on the bed, panting, while Liam dragged the tails so softly over her skin they tickled.

"Okay?"

Jazz opened her mouth to confirm before considering. She'd behaved enough. "Is that all you've got?"

The energy in the room shifted as Liam processed her words. A shiver worked its way down her spine. His hand stilled, the tails of the flogger dangling loosely on her stomach. Jazz braced herself for the sting, but it didn't come. Liam leaned over her, his mouth hovering an inch from hers. There was a wicked glint in his emerald eyes as they bore into her.

"Talk back to me again and see what happens." Liam closed the distance between them until she thought he was going to kiss her, but he bit down hard on her lower lip until it throbbed, then pulled back.

Jazz licked her lips. Oh, she really wanted to see what happened. "So scary," she mocked as he turned away, her voice dripping with condescension.

She watched Liam's shoulder's rise and fall in a long sigh, but it was the low, humorless chuckle that made her legs tremble in their restraints. From her tied-down position, she couldn't see what he was doing when he crouched down to the floor. When he stood, he had something grasped in his hand, but he kept it hidden as he took up his spot by the bed again.

"Show me you can snap your fingers in the cuffs," he said, his voice making it clear he wasn't fucking around.

Jazz frowned in confusion but did as he asked. Liam nodded, satisfied. "Why—" she cut off, her voice muffled as he shoved a rolled-up piece of fabric in her open mouth. She squinted at her reflection in the mirror, clocking the red lace. Was that her fucking underwear ? She tried to protest, but all she could manage were some garbled notes.

Liam looked up, catching her reflection in the mirror with a smirk, the picture of sin. "Better."

He lightly slapped her cheek, eliciting a muffled moan from Jazz, then followed up with a gentle kiss in the same spot. She watched him pick up the flogger from where he'd dropped it on the bed at her insolence, and looked away from her reflection, tensing. Not knowing when the next strike was coming was half the fun, right?

"Remember to snap if you need a break, darling." The way he could slip so quickly from this soft, caring Liam to a darker, harder persona was both impressive and unexpected. Jazz nodded her agreement, and she only had a split-second warning, watching the switch in him, before he brought the flogger down on her inner thigh.

She cried out, biting down on the fabric. Liam didn't let up; the single strike to test the flogger had been nothing. He flicked the tails against her legs, her upper arms, her breasts. Her skin was on fire, pain mingling with pleasure. Jazz writhed in her bonds, desperate for some friction between her legs. Holy shit, had she ever been this wet ?

Just when she thought she might sob with frustration, Liam ran his wide palm up her thigh, brushing her clit with a single finger. Then snapped the flogger between her legs.

Jazz screamed through the underwear, the sting of the flogger bordering on agony, but it only took a second before it morphed into fireworks. Liam followed the strike by rolling her clit gently between his fingers and Jazz panted, her heart damn near beating out of her chest. Fuck , when was the last time she'd been this close?

Liam was looking her over with a scrutinous gaze, searching, she knew, for any signs of unease. Which made it the world's worst fucking timing for Jazz to feel tears sliding down her cheeks.

He dropped the flogger immediately, rounding the bed to her side and pulling the underwear from her mouth.

"Talk to me, darling. Are you okay?" His voice was tinged with panic, so Jazz nodded quickly, licking her lips and trying to wet her mouth enough to speak. The fabric had leeched every drop of moisture from her mouth.

Liam grabbed her water tumbler from the nightstand—when had he even put that there?—and brought it to her lips, supporting her head with his palm. "Do you need to sit up?"

She shook her head and took the straw between her lips, taking small sips. She could still feel tears falling from her eyes, entirely outside of her control.

"I'm okay," she said, panting, when she could speak. "Amazing, actually. This just happens. I promise I'm enjoying it. I want to keep going."

It wasn't the first time this had happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last, but it was the first time someone had trusted her word without question.

Liam nodded, offering her more water and setting the cup aside when she declined. He straddled her, his cock so fucking close to where she needed it. He brushed a cool thumb across her damp cheek, then leaned down and caught her tears with his tongue, gripping her face in a possessive, but not painful way. Jazz trembled beneath him, a whimper falling from her lips.

"Look at you," he murmured, the words vibrating against her skin. "So fucking messy for me. You love this, don't you? Letting me do whatever I want to your perfect. Fucking. Body." He punctuated each word with a kiss, soft and gentle, while his fingers slid back into her hair, his fist closing around it.

He tugged hard enough for it to sting, enough that her fight-or-flight response to kick in, but not enough to make it too painful. Holy fuck . She wriggled in his grip, not sure whether she was trying to get away or just desperate to feel him against her pussy.

Liam tutted, shaking his head like he was disappointed in her. "Pathetic. Are you that desperate for me?" He gripped her hair harder, and she moaned, clenching her pussy for some relief. Fuck. If they ever figured out her inability to orgasm—and she was actually starting to believe they might—she was pretty sure he'd be able to get her off just by talking. "Will you beg me for it, darling?"

"Fuck no," she ground out, and Liam's face lit up. He liked her being a brat. Jesus.

"Thought you might say that." He released her hair and searched her face to make sure she was okay before leaning back. He dragged his cock over her clit, just once, just enough to make her gasp. "A shame. I might've let you come tonight." For a moment, Jazz actually reconsidered not begging. She was half tempted, just to see if he could. But where was the fun in that?

So, instead, she took a deep breath and said, "I'd like to see you try."

Liam's eyes flicked over her, almost dismissively. "I bet you would. But only good toys get to come, I'm afraid." Toys . That was a new one. Why was it so fucking hot? God, he was really testing her resolve. "Guess I'll just have to bring you to the edge, again, and again, and again."

Jazz whimpered without meaning to, and Liam grinned a sadistic smile. He dangled her underwear over her face. "If I leave these out of your mouth, are you going to behave?"

"Probably not."

Liam took his time folding her underwear, building anticipation before forcing it between her lips. He walked away, humming as he kneeled between her legs, spreading his palms over her thighs. "I'm going to have so much fun getting you in line," he said with a happy sigh. "Brace yourself, darling."

And then, with no warning, he spat on her pussy and pressed two fingers inside her. Jazz clenched around him, forcing her head back on the pillow.

Begging didn't sound so bad anymore.