Chapter 223: Slowly

Grace’s "no" hung in the small living room between them.

Liam set his keys on the counter beside the new kettle box and closed the distance without hurry. Grace didn’t step back.

She lifted her face when he reached her, and the first kiss was slow testing, warm, nothing like the claiming heat of the villa.

She made a soft sound against his mouth and her hands settled lightly on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as if she needed the anchor.

When he deepened the kiss, she followed, tentative at first, then with more certainty, her body easing toward his by degrees.

When they broke apart, her eyes were darker.

"I haven’t been with anyone since" She stopped, shook her head once, a faint flush rising along her throat. "It doesn’t matter. Just... don’t rush me."

"I won’t."

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and walked her backward until her calves met the edge of the sofa.

Grace sat, then pulled him down with her, the green dress shifting up her thighs as she made room. The fabric was already wrinkled from the day.

Liam braced over her and kissed along her jaw, down the side of her throat, lingering where her pulse beat against his lips. Her breath caught.

Her hands slid up his shoulders and into his hair, not pulling, just holding on as if the contact itself needed confirming.

The new necklace rested against her collarbone. He touched it once, then the skin beside it, then the soft upper curve of her breast through the dress.

Grace arched into the contact with a quiet, startled sound, as if her own response had surprised her. He did it again, slower, watching her face, and the second sound she made was less startled and more open.

"Still all right?" he asked.

"Yes." Softer. "Yes."

He found the zipper at her back and drew it down slowly. The green fabric loosened across her shoulders and spine.

Grace’s arms left him only long enough for the dress to be eased off her body and down over her hips, leaving her in a simple dark bra and matching underwear.

She had the body of a woman who had lived full breasts, soft stomach, hips that filled his hands when he gripped them. Nothing performative.

Nothing held in for display. He told her she was beautiful without making a speech of it.

The flush that spread across her chest and the way her eyes dropped for half a second before finding his again was answer enough.

Liam kissed down between her breasts, then closed his mouth over one nipple through the bra until the fabric was wet and her fingers tightened in his hair.

When he pulled the cups down and took her properly sucking, slow and thorough Grace moaned openly for the first time, head tipping back against the sofa cushion.

The sound was soft and slightly disbelieving, as if she had forgotten she could make it.

He spent time there.

Both breasts. His hands, his mouth, the faint scrape of teeth that made her hips shift under him.

He cupped the weight of her, brushed his thumb over the wet peak he had just left, then switched sides and gave the other the same patient attention until she was breathing unsteadily and the sounds leaving her throat had lost their careful edges.

Only then did he move lower, kissing over her stomach, the faint softness there, the line of her hip.

He hooked his fingers into her underwear and looked up once for the permission she gave with a small nod and eyes that had gone dark and uncertain and wanting.

He dragged the fabric down and off.

Grace was already wet. The evidence of it made something low and focused settle in him.

He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, feeling her tremble under his mouth, then dragged his tongue through her folds in one long, patient stroke.

Her whole body jerked. A broken sound left her throat higher than before, less controlled.

He held her hips steady and did it again, slower, tasting her, then focused on her clit with steady, deliberate attention while she trembled and tried to keep quiet.

She couldn’t.

The soft, helpless sounds she made filled the small apartment as he licked her, then slid two fingers inside her and curled them while his tongue kept working.

She was tight and hot around his fingers, clenching in small reflex pulses each time he found the right place. Grace’s thighs tensed around his shoulders.

Her hands gripped the sofa cushion, then his hair again, not pushing him away, just needing something to hold.

When he rubbed her clit more firmly with his tongue and curled his fingers at the same time, her breathing fractured completely.

When she came, it was with a shaky cry and a long tremor that ran through her from hips to shoulders, her cunt clenching around his fingers as he worked her through it without stopping.

Wetness slicked his hand and mouth. He stayed with her until the shaking eased into smaller aftershocks and her thighs loosened around him, then kissed her thigh once and rose up over her.

Grace looked wrecked already lips parted, eyes glassy, breasts rising with uneven breath, the green dress discarded on the floor beside the shopping bags and the new linens still in their packaging.

The necklace sat slightly askew against her flushed skin. Liam stripped off his shirt, then the rest, and settled between her thighs.

He rubbed the head of his cock through her soaked folds, coating himself, giving her a second to feel the heat and size of him there.

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said.

Grace’s hands slid down his back, fingers pressing into the muscle along his spine.

"Don’t stop."

He pushed into her slowly.

She was tight, hot, and still fluttering from her orgasm.

Her mouth opened on a silent sound as he filled her inch by inch, the stretch drawing a continuous, shaky breath out of her until he was buried to the hilt.

Liam held still, forehead against hers, letting her adjust around him.

Only when her breathing evened and her legs hooked loosely around his waist did he start to move deep, unhurried strokes that matched the pace she had asked for at the start.

Grace moaned into his shoulder on every thrust.

The sofa creaked softly beneath them. The new necklace shifted against her skin.

Outside, the residential street continued its ordinary evening a car passing, a distant voice, the ordinary sounds of people who were not in this room.

Inside, Liam fucked her with steady, thorough attention, one hand gripping her hip, the other braced beside her head, watching every expression cross her face as the heat built again.

She was soft under him and around him, her body giving without performance, her sounds open and increasingly unguarded as the slow pace started to undo her a second time.

The day of spending had ended.

The night had not.