Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Her touch was desperate, her grip surprisingly strong. She didn't look away from his burning blue eyes as she guided his hand from where it hovered, back down the trembling plane of her stomach, and pressed his palm firmly against the aching, swollen center of her need.

His breath hissed out between his teeth. He let her move him, his arm yielding to her direction, but the moment her own hand fell away, his fingers curled. He didn't rub. He just held his hand there, a hot, heavy pressure, his fingertips digging slightly into her inner thighs. “Here?” he growled, the word a vibration in the charged air between them.

She nodded, a frantic jerk of her chin. Her hips rolled up, seeking friction against the unyielding cage of his hand. A silent, physical plea.

He rewarded her. His thumb found her clit, a slow, deliberate circle that made her spine arch off the white blanket. Her mouth opened on a soundless cry. He watched it happen, watched her face shatter, his own expression one of rapt, intense study. “You show me so beautifully,” he murmured, his thumb continuing its maddening, perfect circles. “Your body begs in a language I understand perfectly.”

He added a second finger, sliding them through her slickness, coating them thoroughly before returning to that tight, desperate bud. The rhythm changed, firmer now, insistent. Elena’s hands scrabbled at the blanket, her head thrashing side to side. The coil in her belly pulled taut, a searing line of fire connecting his touch to every nerve ending. The world narrowed to the rough pad of his thumb, the wet sound of her arousal, the animal gasps she couldn’t contain.

“Liam—” It was a broken syllable, half-sob, half-prayer.

“Cum.” His voice was grit, a barely controlled thing. He increased the pressure. “Let it go. I want to see you fall apart on my hand.”

The command undid her. The coil snapped. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and blinding, rushing through her in a violent, shuddering wave. Her back bowed off the bed, a raw, ragged cry tearing from her throat. She clenched around nothing, her inner muscles fluttering wildly, her hips bucking against his relentless hand as he worked her through it, drawing out every pulse, every aftershock until she was limp and trembling, tears leaking from the corners of her squeezed-shut eyes.

He slowly withdrew his hand. She heard the soft, wet sound as he lifted it. She forced her eyes open, her vision blurred. He was bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth again, his gaze locked on her ravished face as he slowly sucked them clean. A deep groan rumbled in his chest. “Even sweeter the second time.”

Before the last tremor had left her thighs, he shifted. The broad, condom-covered head of his cock nudged insistently at her entrance, still wet and sensitized from her climax. The pressure was different now—a desire inside that was begging to be sated.

“Wait—,” her voice cut in.

Liam froze, preparing to stop.

“I just needed to tell you first. I’m still a Virgin.” She let out, feeling flushed as the words left her lips.

She glanced at him to see his reaction, and a surprised look was on his face.

“Look at me,” he ordered again, his voice thick.

Her green eyes, dazed and swimming, found his. She was utterly open, completely spent, yet the hunger in his blue gaze sparked a new, deeper ache inside her.