Chapter 351: A little Sparing Time 3

The word wasn’t shouted, but the cold, absolute finality in her voice snapped Liam’s jaw shut.

Her hand slid up from his collarbone, her cool, soft fingers wrapping firmly around the front of his throat.

She didn’t squeeze hard enough to cut off his air, but the firm, possessive pressure was unmistakable.

Her eyes flashed with something dangerous and hot as she pulled him down an inch toward her face.

"You need to be reminded who you belong to when you are under this roof," she whispered, her warm breath tasting like sweet espresso against his lips. "You’ve been spending too much time out in the world, Liam. You’re getting arrogant. Unruly."

Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs, a dark, heavy electric charge snapping through his veins.

He hated how easily she stripped away his control, how a single look from her could turn his hard-fought arrogance into liquid heat.

"Is that right?" Liam rasped out, his voice thick as his hands instinctively came up to rest on the narrow curve of her hips.

"It is," she murmured.

Elena slid her hand up into the hair at the nape of his neck, yanking his head down hard.

Her lips crashed into his in a bruising, possessive kiss. There was nothing gentle about it. She tasted him with a fierce, demanding hunger, her tongue slick and commanding as she claimed his mouth.

Liam groaned low in his throat, his hands tightening around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

The scent of her perfume enveloped him completely, drowning out the lingering smell of sweat and grass.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were slick and flushed a deeper crimson. She was breathing slightly faster, but her eyes were dark with absolute control.

Without breaking eye contact, Elena slid her hands down to the hem of his dirty shirt and pulled it up over his head in one fluid motion, tossing the ruined cotton carelessly onto the floor.

Her cool hands immediately spread across his bare chest, her thumb tracing the hard line of his collarbone, sliding over the faint, fresh bruise blooming near his sternum from Wraith’s knee strike.

She pressed her thumb directly into the center of the bruise.

Liam winced, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth, his body tense.

"Pain keeps you focused," she whispered, her lips trailing down his jawline, down the corded muscle of his neck, before her teeth nipped sharp and hard into the slope of his shoulder.

Liam gasped, his fingers digging into the plush fabric of her skirt as a jolt of raw pleasure-pain shot straight down his spine.

"Elena..."

She didn’t give him room to speak, nor did she give him time to think. Elena pushed him back toward the heavy leather couch sitting along the wall.

Liam’s legs hit the edge of the cushions, and she shoved his chest hard enough to send him falling back into the soft leather.

Before he could adjust, she was over him.

Elena straddled his lap, her red skirt sliding high up her pale thighs as she settled her weight directly over him.

The sharp heels of her shoes dug into the leather on either side of his legs.

She unbuttoned her silk blouse with slow, deliberate precision, letting the dark fabric drop from her shoulders, revealing a lace bra that barely contained the full curve of her breasts.

Liam reached up, his large hands gripping her thighs, his thumb stroking the soft, hot skin above her stockings. "You’re out of your mind today."

"I am taking what is mine," she replied smoothly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt with practiced ease.

She stripped away his remaining clothes with a ruthless efficiency that left Liam completely exposed on the dark leather sofa.

The air in the study felt heavy and thick, every breath dragging her scent deeper into his lungs.

Elena didn’t waste time with teasing words or long foreplay. She wanted submission, and she knew exactly how to break him.

She leaned forward, her chest pressing against his, her lips finding his ear as her hands slid down between their bodies.

When her soft, warm fingers wrapped around him, Liam’s head rolled back against the leather cushions, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat.

She stroked him with a steady, punishing rhythm, her grip firm and uncompromising, driving him straight to the edge before pausing just long enough to hear him plead with a ragged breath.

"Look at me," she demanded quietly against his ear.

Liam opened his eyes, his vision slightly blurred by the sudden, intense rush of heat pooling in his gut.

Elena was looking down at him, her dark hair falling around them like a curtain, her eyes gleaming with triumphant satisfaction.

She reached beneath her skirt, shifting her underwear aside, and guided him to her entrance.

Without a warning, she sank down on him in one long, agonizingly slow push.

"Fuck..." Liam choked out, his hands slamming down onto the leather armrests, his knuckles turning stark white.

She swallowed him completely.

The heat inside her was suffocating, tight, and searing hot. Liam’s hips buckled upward instinctively, but Elena slammed her palm flat against his chest, locking him down into the couch.

"Stay still," she commanded, her voice trembling slightly as her own body adjusted to the full, heavy stretch of him inside her. "I set the pace today."

She began to move.

Elena rolled her hips with slow, hypnotic precision, taking every inch of him before lifting herself up and sliding back down with deliberate, crushing force.

Every slide of her body against his sent waves of overwhelming pleasure shooting through Liam’s nerve endings.

His jaw clutched tight, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead and chest, his breathing ragged and uneven.

He reached up, his hands catching her waist to try and speed her up, to take control and drive into her the way he wanted, but Elena slapped his hands away, pinning his wrists against the back of the sofa.

"I said no," she rasped, her own composure finally showing tiny cracks as a flush spread across her chest and neck.

She quickened her rhythm, riding him with a relentless, punishing intensity.

The quiet study was filled with the heavy, wet sounds of their bodies colliding, the soft creaking of the leather couch, and Liam’s deep, broken groans as she completely dominated him.

She knew every spot, every angle that drove him out of his mind.

She ground herself down against him, her internal muscles pulsing tight around his length, wringing every drop of restraint out of his body.

Liam was drowning.

The physical exhaustion from his fight with Wraith combined with the overwhelming, relentless friction of her body was breaking him down piece by piece.

He rolled his head from side to side, his chest heaving, his muscles trembling beneath her weight as he fought to hold back the climax rushing toward him like a freight train.

"Elena... wait..." Liam choked out, his eyes wide, his hips lifting off the leather despite her grip. "I’m... I can’t—"

"Give it to me," she whispered fiercely, leaning down until her lips brushed his ear, her voice dripping with possessive victory. "Fill me up, Liam. Show me who you belong to."

Her words broke his last thread of control.

Elena drove her hips down one final, punishing time, her body tightening around him in a series of violent, internal spasms as her own orgasm hit her. The feeling of her milking him was too much.

Liam shattered.

A loud, broken roar tore from Liam’s throat as he came inside her, his body arching off the sofa as wave after wave of intense, blinding heat poured out of him.

His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave faint marks, his entire frame shuddering violently under the sheer weight of the release.

Elena rode through his climax, her head thrown back, a soft, breathless gasp escaping her lips as she absorbed every drop of his release, basking in the raw power of his submission.

For long minutes afterward, the only sound in the grand study was the heavy, labored breathing of two people recovering in the silence.

Liam lay completely wrecked on the sofa, his arms flopping uselessly to his sides.

His body felt completely drained, heavy as lead, his muscles twitching faintly from lingering aftershocks.

Sweat glistened on his skin, sticking his hair to his forehead. He stared blankly up at the high decorative ceiling, utterly spent, his energy utterly depleted.

Beside him, Elena slowly lifted herself off him.

A faint trickle ran down her inner thigh, but she ignored it with effortless poise. She reached for a silk robe resting on a nearby chair, slipping her arms into the sleeves and tying the sash tightly around her waist.

Unlike Liam, who looked like he had just survived a wreck, Elena looked radiant. Her skin was glowing, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and her dark eyes were bright, clear, and brimming with absolute satisfaction.

She walked over to her desk, poured herself a glass of water from a crystal carafe, and took a small, elegant sip.

Liam slowly dragged his hand across his face, letting out a long, exhausted groan as he tried to pull himself upright. Every joint in his body protested.

"Jesus Christ, Elena..." Liam muttered, his voice hoarse.

Elena turned around, resting her hips against the front of her desk, holding her glass with one hand. She looked down at him with a cool, sharp smile—the smile of a predator that had just thoroughly fed.

"Now," Elena said smoothly, her tone completely transitioning back to cold, professional authority as if nothing had happened. "Let’s get down to business."