Lesson In Honesty (Club Serenity #3)

Chapter One .2

Sierra

The meeting took forever .

She listened with one ear as her fingers worked on autopilot, deftly stitching together the limp body she’d had to wash a dozen times to get the stains and grime out. Even her special concoction hadn’t been able to get it done any faster; years of hard loving followed by an extended stay in a cardboard box in a damp basement was almost more than the furry body could take.

Sierra stroked a fingertip over the soft, striped fur.

The child who’d once clutched the plush tiger in her sleep while sucking her thumb had grown up. The woman she’d become, cleaning out that dirty basement after her mother’s death, wanted her childhood toy to pass down to her daughter.

So Sierra would stitch until the two halves were whole again, doing a far better job than the original manufacturer ever did, and fill the stuffie with new stuffing and a lot of love.

She knew what it was to love now; not the young, idealistic version she’d felt for Wyatt in the beginning. God knew that hadn’t been reciprocated in the slightest. Maybe he’d learned to love her back, but not until Liam loved her first, completely and without limits.

It shamed her that even though Wyatt gave her his best effort to earn forgiveness, she’d never allowed herself to love or trust him fully. Not after the way he’d used her, belittled her, brought her self-confidence to its lowest point.

She did mourn him. Dying so suddenly, so violently, while trying to protect a man who’d become a huge part of Avalon had redeemed him to some degree, but she was strong enough now to understand the loss of him hadn’t impacted her life as deeply as losing Liam would.

There was no life without Liam.

Some days, it felt as though they were miles apart. For the past few weeks, they’d been preparing for the move from Arizona to Colorado, the shift from Avalon to Serenity, and all the complications it brought along for the ride.

She hated she was the cause of their relocation—not that Liam ever blamed it on her. A change of pace, he called it. A break away from the stress and memories of Phoenix where Wyatt’s ghost lingered.

Away from her friends, who kept popping out babies like candy from a machine.

Tears rose to her eyes swiftly, blurring the next stitch. She felt a sob gather in her chest, rising up her throat faster than she could control it. Determined not to let it escape and embarrass Liam in front of his new colleagues, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe around the constriction.

Hands trembling, she wanted to set the stuffie down before she jabbed the needle into her fingers, but that was a dead giveaway; he’d notice, lean down and ask her if she was okay, what was wrong, and she’d shatter like a dropped glass on a countertop.

Babies—particularly her lack of one—were her weakness.

“—will cover all ages from babies to preteen. Felicity, Ericka, while overall supervision will be part of your duties, we’re happy for you to leave established Daddy-little couples to their own devices. Single and new members should be your priority.”

“Ericka covers the Mommy aspect,” Felicity mused, “and I can switch between Mommy and little. What’s our protocol if we have a request for a Daddy?”

The man who’d introduced himself as Fordham raised his hand. “That’s in my scope. I’ll cover until you find a permanent Daddy.”

Sierra’s heart wilted. She really wanted to ask Liam if she could play in the nursery once they were settled into a routine, but sliding into her Little tendencies just seemed like a pale replica of what she truly needed.

“Try not to look thrilled about it, Ford,” Mistress Violet commented with a throaty laugh, drawing Sierra’s attention away from her miseries.

Deadpan, the Dom leveled her with a stare. “Does this face not appear thrilled?”

There was more laughter, but Sierra dropped her gaze to her hands, peeking surreptitiously toward the Mistress. When the woman caught her eyes and gave her a wink, Sierra flushed hotly and focused all her attention back on the stuffie.

“All right, I think that covers everything for now.” Elias rose, checking his watch. “Take the next couple days to settle in, find your way around, acclimatize yourselves to your areas. Meal itineraries have been emailed to you along with any other pertinent data you might need, but if you have any questions, Van and I are at your beck.”

Liam laid his hand on hers, squeezing gently. “Ready for something to eat, minx?”

Was it lunchtime already? Frowning, she tilted his wrist toward her, turning her head to study his watch awkwardly. Blinking in surprise, she realized the meeting had been going on for hours . “Um… I guess?”

“Bored you senseless, haven’t we?” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Is there anything you want to do this afternoon? I’m sure we can try out one of the areas if you want to play? Or we can see if any of these guys feel like getting to know us better.”

Carefully, Sierra finished the stitch. Reaching into the sewing pouch in front of her, she picked out her tiny scissors and snipped the thread. Returning them and the needle to their rightful place, she then carefully rolled up the stuffie into a pouch-sized passenger. “None of them have partners aside from Grit. Maybe you should make friends with them on their terms first.”

“On their terms?” He tipped her chin up, frowning at her. “Minx, the only terms I’m going on are mine. We all have to work and live together here; if they don’t want to socialize with me because I’m in love with a beautiful, socially awkward, and incredibly sweet woman, then fuck them. Sideways.”

She managed the faintest smile.

There were times she wondered how she’d ever caught his attention. Others when it baffled her how she not only held it, but earned his love as well. She’d spent sleepless nights thinking about how she could change to make his life easier, to stop the stares and often ignorant comments about her appearance.

The stress of the move was making her psoriasis flare. Big patches of red were popping up all over her body. Soon they’d start to plaque, which embarrassed her no end. It was, of course, worse when her skin split and bled; Liam spent hours bathing, creaming, and bandaging to make her more comfortable.

Add in the beard, that eternal source of ridicule, and comedians could write hours upon hours of script for their show based just on her face.

“I’ve always rather enjoyed getting fucked sideways,” a low voice murmured from behind them, rich with amusement. “Missionary becomes so boring.”

Sierra ducked her head, fiddling with her pouch. It seemed safer than risking another meeting with those soft doe-eyes. Big and brown, she thought, just like a female deer. There was something… hypnotic about them.

“Mistress Violet,” Liam greeted politely.

“Master Liam,” she returned with a laugh. “And this pretty little thing next to you is… Sienna?”

“Sierra.”

“My apologies, I misheard. A few of us are getting together later this evening as an informal gathering. An opportunity to get to know everyone before the chaos of opening strikes us down. It’s only going to be drinks, a few nibbles, and with any luck, some decent conversation. Both of you are most welcome to join us.”

An evening surrounded by strange Dominants?

Sierra concealed her hesitance, knowing Liam would make the decision based on her reaction. She enjoyed her time at Avalon, spending time with the people she loved, those who embraced her despite the physical flaws everyone else used against her.

“Thanks for the invite,” Liam said warmly, “but I’ll need to discuss it with Sierra. She’s been a bit unsettled with the move, and stress doesn’t help her social anxiety.” He took her hand, linking her damp fingers with his. “Let me know when and where; if we can make it, we will.”

“Eight o’clock, Levi’s studio. No need to bring anything, we have supplies.”

“Maybe we’ll see you there.” There was an edge of dismissal in his tone; he wasn’t too pleased with Violet’s interruption.

“It really would be lovely to see you both.” Was that a slight inflection on the word both?

Her shoulders relaxed as the Domme strolled away, her high heels thudding softly on the carpet. That southern drawl did weird things to her nervous system—the rhythm and cadence was soothing, almost alluring. Violet reminded her of Connie, only… not.

“So, at least one neighbor is friendly,” Liam joked, turning his gray eyes on Sierra. She loved those eyes, not just the color, but what was in them when he looked at her. “Seems like we have a couple options for tonight’s entertainment.”

Personally, her preference was a night at Avalon, which wasn’t an option here, or a movie night with her stuffies and her man, with popcorn and maybe even a soda. Falling asleep with her head on Liam’s lap, his fingers combing through her hair because he knew it relaxed her.

Liam, however, was a different kind of animal. A social one who thrived being around people, talking to them. He actually enjoyed finding out about their lives, listening to their hour-long life stories and quaint anecdotes. He was a focal point in Avalon because of his charm, his open ear, his ability to make people feel welcome even if they were strangers.

Plus, he was fucking gorgeous.

Around Avalon, Liam was known as the Viking Master. Tall, blond, bearded. There was that charm, yes, but when he switched gears and went into dominant mode with both barrels locked and loaded, he was divinely, deliciously deviant.

Chewing on her lower lip, Sierra thought of all the times he’d sacrificed his happiness for hers, in small ways and big ones. The times he stayed home because her anxiety overwhelmed her, the nights he spent losing sleep because her dreams were haunted by Wyatt and explosions and death.

The time he moved away from the club he loved, his friends and family, everything he knew and held dear, because she was so depressed and unhappy, he felt the only way to help her was to relocate to a different state for a while.

The conference room was slowly emptying.

Fordham was talking to Elias; Levi and Evander were deep in discussion. Callie was oblivious, her gaze focused intently on the laptop screen as her fingers danced across the keyboard. A couple of the others whose names she’d missed during the introductions were standing at the window, pointing out over the expanse of the resort and the wilderness beyond.

These people would be their people for the duration of their stay, Sierra realized. They’d be friends or enemies, or linger in that weird place where polite conversation was the extent of their interaction.

“Do you want to go?” she asked.

He tucked a curl of hair around her ear. “I won’t go without you.”

“That wasn’t what I asked. Do you want to go for drinks and… nibbles?”

“Minx, trust me, I’ll be nibbling on something.” He lifted her hand to his lips and nipped the knuckles.

Insides clenching, Sierra embraced the shiver rippling down her spine. It had been too long since they’d been physically intimate; whenever she remembered her empty womb and the fact it was likely to stay barren and dead, her libido dried up faster than sweat in the desert.

Sacrifice, she reminded herself. “Maybe we should go. For an hour.”

“We can do an hour. If you’re sure.”

When she nodded, it was worth the gut-twisting dread in her stomach to see the light in his eyes. It wasn’t even like he was grateful to be getting away from her for the evening—he’d show her off to his new colleagues with pride, as though she was a leggy, perfect supermodel straight off the Paris catwalk, without a hint of hesitation.

“Grab your stuff, minx. We’ll find some food, then maybe take a nap.” The hope in his eyes told her he was thinking along carnal lines.

Clutching her sewing pouch with her free hand, she stood when he rose, keeping their fingers linked. They waved goodbye to the others, although hers was a little shy, and stepped out of the conference room into the hall with its vast amount of doors.

The top floor of the clubhouse was divided into two; one end contained the official side of Serenity—the conference room, manager’s office, janitorial services, and an efficient, non-play medical station—while the other half was a range of guest rooms.

She followed Liam down the stairs, feeling self-conscious about her battered sneakers every time she took a step on the pristine carpet. All the opulence made her uncomfortable, as though she might mar the beauty of it with her unremarkable presence.

Downstairs, the afternoon sun shone onto acres of wood polished to absolute perfection. Brass gleamed, and the bottles around the circular bar streamed multicolored beams through the empty room. A kaleidoscope of colorful fire.

The floorboards were just as shiny, without a trace of the blood spilled there only a few months ago. A man, an awful and irredeemable man, had died with a knife in his chest, and Tabitha… well, the three gunshot wounds she’d taken to the chest were almost the end of her.

Not that Liam had told Sierra much about the disaster; most of what she knew, she’d learned from the others at Avalon, or eavesdropped when he thought she was asleep. He tried to protect her from anything he believed would hurt her, but they both understood she’d been unprotected for a long time before he came into her world.

In just a couple days, the emptiness would be gone, forgotten. People would crowd around the bar, ordering drinks after their scenes, ogling her Liam as though taking him for a ride wasn’t out of the question. Music would play through the speakers, loud enough to enjoy but at a level conducive to conversation at the same time. The bar would be full of life, smelling of perfume and aftershave, sex and sweat, instead of brass polish and lemon-scented cleaner.

When they stepped out into the chilly air, she shivered and huddled into Liam. She wasn’t a fan of the cold; it got into her bones and she usually needed to put on her special bed socks to warm up again.

His arm came around her shoulders. “Come on, minx. It’s dropped a few degrees since we walked over. Why don’t I light the fire when we get home?”

Home, she thought wistfully. She missed home. Not their apartment—the cabin here was much nicer than the apartment they couldn’t bear to leave because of the memories Wyatt left behind—but the family who’d made her feel so welcome when they didn’t have to, not at all.

She did love the fire, though.

The warmth spreading through the cabin, the crackle of burning wood. Even the flicker of light and shadow against the walls, although their first night here, when the wind was howling and rain pelted the windows, it hadn’t been comforting so much as a little terrifying.

New house, new place, new state.

Thanks to Evander’s generosity, the cabin was fully furnished to Liam—and she supposed her own—tastes, and that included curtains. She didn’t know how she’d cope if she could see winter knocking on the glass—her imagination already conjured too many monsters in the dark.

“Where’s your jacket, minx?”

Oh boy, here came the lecture. She’d had a few already and they’d been here less than a week; the Avalon Masters and their respective partners had flown in to Denver not only to bring Tabitha home and support Grit in a terrible time, but to say a tearful goodbye.

“In the cabin,” she muttered, almost tacking on a sulky Daddy to the end.

“Did I not tell you to bring it with you?”

“It was sunny,” she protested.

“That was then, this is now.” Chuckling, Liam guided her along the gravel pathways. It crunched under her sneakers, his boots, as they walked at a hurried pace toward the residential cabins near the woods.

Their home was a single-story abode, nothing fancy or ostentatious. A spacious living room with the stone hearth and open fire; a big kitchen with all the mod-cons. The bedroom was huge, with a bed large enough for six and a gorgeous bathroom attached.

She’d taken over the living room with her stuffies. Luckily, Liam didn’t mind the invasion; he understood her work grounded her when she felt overwhelmed or stressed. She was so very lucky to have found a man who knew that, and supported her.

“This isn’t Phoenix, Sierra. Winter here can be brutal, which means taking your jacket even when it’s sunny. This is a big resort, and I don’t want you getting caught out if it starts raining or snowing, or some other force of nature comes down on us.” Ever the gentleman, he led her up the path to their porch steps, grasping her elbow as they ascended onto the deck, then opened the front door. “Jacket and phone at all times, understand? We’ll add everyone’s number to your cell, and put Evander and a couple others to the speed dial in case of an emergency.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“In you go.”

She trudged inside, chin on her chest, tempted to scuff her sneakers on the brief gap of varnished floorboards before the hallway runner covered the rest. It was warmer inside, the gentle heat wrapping around her like the absent jacket.

Despite the fact she burned candles at night, the cabin still held that new scent. Paint, wood varnish, the chemical tang that stung her nose.

Sierra bent to untie her laces, setting her sewing pouch by her feet. She had one undone and the other partially free when Liam grasped her hips from behind. Not suggestively, just a physical connection between them.

Slowly, she finished untying the lace, then straightened and toed off her sneakers. One, then the other. The movement made her butt rub against the soft bulge in his jeans, quickly rousing it to hardness.

His arm curled around her waist. “Are you happy here, Sierra?”

She rested her head against his chest. “I can’t complain. Everything’s strange, will be strange for a while, I guess. This cabin is lovely, the scenery is prettier. The club’s going to be a huge hit. As far as fresh starts go, this has to be one of the best.”

Liam sighed, resting his chin on top of her hair. “That doesn’t answer my question. We’ve been stuck for so long in the rut Wyatt left behind, we’ve forgotten what happiness is.” When she stiffened at the mention of Wyatt’s name, he tsked softly. “We don’t talk about him anymore.”

There wasn’t much left to say after all this time.

She’d loved him first until Liam showed her what actual love was, and the dwindling emotion died inside her once her heart opened itself to her Viking. She’d tolerated Wyatt touching her because Liam thought there was some good in him, relegating him from Dom to sub. Teaching Wyatt how to be an empathic, sympathetic man instead of an asshole.

Sierra had forgiven him on some level, enough to forge a life together. A threesome, tentatively building a future on a broken past, uncertain promises, and love that didn’t quite stretch around the triangle. She thought they’d been happy, or some variant of it.

Enough to hold them together until Wyatt earned his forgiveness fully, posthumously, when he uncharacteristically gave his life to save Zeke’s.

Liam’s body heat seeped into her, leeching away the chill.

When she didn’t speak, his thumb stroked her hip. “It’s a difficult situation, Sierra. Asking you to love him, forgive him, after everything he did. Mourning him the way he deserved because he did a selfless thing for once in his life. We should’ve made this move sooner—taken a vacation, gotten away from the memories while they were still raw. Instead, I threw myself into work and you… well, you rehabilitated more stuffies in those first few months than we knew what to do with.”

Her lips twitched. That was true. She’d worked until her skin pruned from washing so many fluffy skins, her fingers callused and blistered from so much cutting and stitching. “The hospital was very grateful for our donation.”

“Yeah, they were. You did good, minx.”

The quiet praise made her brain hum in pleasure. “I don’t talk about him because he’s gone, Liam. He left his mark, good and bad, before he died. When he comes up in conversation, the bad stuff is always what hits first, then the fact he’s dead, and then, that he did something heroic as a parting gift. I just want to remember the good times, the happy memories.”

“Okay. Okay, I understand that.” Liam rubbed his chin thoughtfully over her hair, his beard tugging lightly on the strands. “We’ve never discussed what we want in the future. Children, obviously, however they might come. No,” he said quickly when she tried to pull away. “This is a sore spot that’s been festering for too damn long, minx. Right now, biologically, the dots aren’t connecting. It doesn’t mean they won’t, or that we’ll stop trying. I know fostering and adopting isn’t how you saw us starting a family, but it’s an honorable one. A necessary one when there are so many kids stuck in homes, crying out for love.”

Her eyes began to burn. She had nothing against either option, but holding her own baby? One formed from her blood and Liam’s? She yearned for it. Years of watching her friends announce their pregnancies, their bellies growing rounder and rounder until they presented the group with yet another addition, was soul destroying on a whole other level.

One she tried so hard to hide because she didn’t want to spoil their joy.

All the while, she died a little inside.

“I don’t… I can’t talk about it.” Voice unsteady, she tried to squirm free, but Liam just spun her around in the cage of his arms and tipped her head back. “Liam, no. Not now.”

With a sigh that was more of a growl, he nodded, giving her a temporary reprieve. “Fine, but we’re not leaving it for weeks again. I’ve let a lot of things slide, Sierra. Too many things, if I’m honest. I’ve been the Dom you needed since Wyatt passed, but we’re both changing. From now on, I’m going to be the Dom you need now .”

God, she was helpless when he caught her in that patient gray gaze. A tiny mouse trapped in the heated stare of a sleek, horny cat. The hairs on her arms and neck rose, nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the force of his dominance pressing down on her.

Even her nipples were perking up.

Traitors .

“So I guess the final question before I feed you is…” Liam paused, seemed to gather himself. “We functioned well as a trio, minx. We make an amazing couple. Serenity is an opportunity—either to cement ourselves together as one, or if you want to find someone to play with again, see if we can hook up with a suitable match.”

Hurt struck first, hard and fast, before she latched onto his words properly and dissected them in a way her brain could process. He wasn’t asking because he was bored of her, she realized, or because he believed she was sick of him.

He’d been the first man to bring her to orgasm, to penetrate her when she was wet and willing. Adding Wyatt into the equation had sated two sides of the coin—her love of taking two cocks simultaneously, and Liam’s bisexual needs.

She licked her lips, unsure how to answer. “What makes you think we need a third?”

“Not need, necessarily. But want?” Mouth curving into a smile, amusement sparked in the gray of his eyes like sparklers. “I’m an observant Dom, Sierra. I can read you better than a blind man reads braille. Did you think I’d miss your reaction to Mistress Violet?”

Sierra’s mouth dropped open. “I-I… she reminds me of Connie.”

Shit, shit, shit, he’d noticed?

“Funny, I’ve never seen you flush the color of a fire hydrant when you get an eyeful of Connie,” he mused playfully. “It’s fine, minx. She’s an attractive woman; it’s natural to feel curious. Look, take some time and think about it. I’m not trying to upset our balance when it’s perfect, but life is for living, not grieving. We’ve mourned Wyatt for a long time—too long, I think, for it to be emotionally healthy. Serenity is about finding our peace now.”

More sacrifice, she thought, on Liam’s part. How long had he been ready to move on from the grieving period to living again, holding himself back because she’d mired herself in Wyatt’s memory?

She wished she could just say yes and be assertive with it, but that wasn’t her nature. Letting other people make decisions lessened her chance of making them angry if she chose the wrong option. “Do you want a third again?”

The love in his expression didn’t flicker. “I like the opportunities we have with a third. You come alive with two pairs of hands on you, Sierra, and that’s what I want more than anything; to watch you bloom and thrive.”

She nodded slowly, well aware she was opening herself to failure. “Okay.”

“Think about it, Sierra,” he repeated. “Don’t rush into it.”

She lifted her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks through his soft beard. It was a little on the wild side—trimming the golden mess hadn’t been high on the priority list, what with all the chaos of moving—and she loved how rugged it made him look. “No, you’re right. We’ve been stuck in a box since Wyatt died. Maybe now’s the time to break it open.”

“Feeling brave today, minx?”

Of course, he knew her well enough to know how out of character it was for her to leap into a decision. In all honesty, he probably knew her better than she knew herself by this point; he read her body, deciphered her emotions in ways she couldn’t comprehend, and navigated the intricate weavings of her mind with ease.

“No,” she admitted quietly. “But it needs to be done.”

When he kissed her, the world fell away into the dark.

A slow, languid kiss, so much like the first time he’d ever touched his mouth to hers, as though she was a feral kitten who might bite.

It was she who deepened the kiss now, her fingers gliding up into his hair to take handfuls. Pressing herself against him, she tried to transport herself back to the beginning, before a funeral and a hostile womb wedged themselves between her and Liam. Back to when sex was a pleasure and not a chore to set aside for weeks on end.

Liam groaned, one hand sliding up her nape to fist her hair and pull her head back further while the other snuck under the hem of her shirt to stroke her skin. Those clever fingers, slightly roughened with calluses, knew every single spot that made her shiver and grow wet.

The tug of pain in her scalp helped that along; Liam’s way of loving her emotionally was consistent, always, but when it came to sex, the fluidity of gentle to rough to downright savage never failed to surprise her.

His erection pressed against her stomach, hard and thick.

No matter how many times she’d turned him down over the past year, he didn’t complain or yell at her for being a frigid bitch. He hadn’t cheated, finding someone else to lose himself in, and he’d loved her despite the fact she continued to spiral into the gaping chasm inside herself.

He deserved more than what she’d been giving him.

Suddenly frantic, she dropped her hands between them, groping for his belt buckle. It took her clumsy fingers two attempts to undo it, the quiet jangle of metal oddly arousing. Before she could stop herself, she unfastened the button, lowered the zipper, and hummed softly into Liam’s mouth when she found him commando.

The thick shaft jerked when her fingers curled around him. Velvet skin strained over the rigid appendage, slick with precum.

A growl rumbled in his chest. He broke the kiss, breathing hard. “Don’t wind the toy up if you’re not going to play with it, minx.”

Sierra swallowed hard, lowering her free hand to her waist. She wrestled with the elasticated band of her exercise pants, the most comfortable thing she could find to wear for the meeting, pushing until the fabric slithered over her hips to pool on the floor.

Liam’s gaze sharpened on her face, growing darker as she let her panties drop. The noise he made in his throat when she stepped out of the puddle of material ensured she was ready for him.

“Sierra?”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

The look in his eye, the tone of his voice, warned her she was now prey to his predator. This wasn’t going to be all soft kisses and easy lovemaking; her Dom was primed, balancing on a hair trigger, and her finger was twitching.

All it took was a nod.

A single dip and rise of her chin.

Strong fingers curled around her throat, a firm grasp that wouldn’t leave bruises. Her back rapped against the wall, knocking her off balance enough that she widened her stance instinctively to keep herself from falling—not that he’d ever let her.

She managed to suck in a breath before his mouth sealed over hers, kissing her with a depth of passion she hadn’t felt in a long time. A whimper vibrated beneath the collar of his fingers as his free hand cupped between her thighs, two fingertips skimming along her seam.

Everything changed in an instant. Those big hands moved to her hips, sliding down the outside of her thighs until his fingertips bit into the flesh. Hefting her, sliding her back up the wall, he angled his pelvis until the rotund crown settled against her entrance.

It was going to hurt, she knew that. Her Dom didn’t register on the small scale; he was all length and girth, a perfect fit for her when her body was relaxed and used to him. But she’d denied him for too long, retreating away from him, and she was no longer accustomed to taking him on a whim.

Liam brought her home on the first thrust.

Pain erupted in her core, muscles stretching too quickly around the swift penetration, accommodating nearly all of his cock in one go because he demanded it. A cry ricocheted from her into him, feeding that slightly sadistic part of him, as she clamped down on him and came .

She heard him laugh darkly through the blood pumping wildly in her ears. Pleasure sensitized her skin until she felt as though fire simmered through her veins. The scrape of his beard along her neck sent tingles spearing down her spine; the nip of his teeth almost made her come again.

He thrust again, driving his cock through the spasming grip of her internal muscles, seating himself so fully it felt as though he was pushing straight through into her womb.

Her barren, empty—

“Legs around my waist,” Liam snapped, his gray gaze boring into hers as though he knew exactly where her thoughts were heading. “Arms above your head, Sierra.”

She obeyed. Of course, she obeyed.

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 punishing grip, 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 to tease her? Her hands fisted in frustration; he knew what 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.