Her Heavy Cross

Chapter Seven

Authors note: So, the smuttiness ramps up from here. Although, no actual sex in this chapter, it is where the story starts to get explicit. If I've done my job, the smut is part of character development. This story is about Lana recovering from her husband's death and rediscovering her sexual nature as she embarks on a new relationship. She has tied her sexuality to her grief and needs to work through it. So, yeah, smutty kinky sexy stuff to follow. Also, remember I'm a first time writer, my descriptions and word choice may be clumsy. Any constructive comments are welcome.

The lift ride was short, but long enough for me to get nervous. I think Liam sensed my mood and pulled me into a hug. His embrace was warm and gentle, so different from the way he held me a few moments ago.

I was surprised at how comforting his embrace was. It was the kind of hug that made the world slip away. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, and I sighed into his chest. I breathed deeply, and beneath his sharp, spicy cologne, I could smell him, his faint masculine scent, herbaceous and green.

The doors opened, and he led me to across a hallway into his room.

He turned the lights on briefly and then dimmed them. Liam shadowed me while I looked around. His room had dark grey carpeted floors and white walls. A king-sized bed with black bedsides and a large black leather winged back chair were the only furniture. Like the one downstairs, a sizeable abstract canvas hung over the bed.

Two doors led off his room, one was an en-suite, and the other looked like a walk-in robe and dressing room. I noticed some clothes thrown on a small sofa in the dressing room and a few pairs of shoes on the floor, the only things I had seen out of place in the house. I smiled, finally an indication Liam was indeed human.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the bed, somehow making it sound like both a request and command. His tone ripped right through me, and it almost shamed me at how quickly I obeyed.

I sat, and Liam knelt at my feet. He lifted one of my feet onto his lap and undid the strap of my heeled sandal, and removed it. He placed my barefoot back on the carpet and repeated the process on the other foot.

Liam gripped my ankles in his large hands and ran his fingers up my legs, sitting up as he went. His eyes were level with mine, and he smiled at me. I could not speak or move. My whole body was tingling with his touch, excited by the anticipation of what sensations he would give me next.

His hands reached my knees, and he gently pushed them apart and brought his body close to mine. Clasping my face, he brought it to his, kissing me with a tenderness that surprised me. His hands were under my skirt, moving up the outside of my thighs. His deliberate caress was driving me wild. I wanted to scream, don't be gentle, be rough, take me, make me yours.

My arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him closer to me. My kisses became more fervent, urging him on. His hands were on my hips now, his thumbs against my hip bones.

The heat in my centre was burning, and I arched my back, desperately wanting friction to ease the ache I felt. He must have felt my hips rocking, it wasn't subtle, but he pulled back and stood up. I couldn't help myself, and I looked straight at his pants. I could see the outline of his erection straining against the fabric. I licked my lips and quickly looked away, embarrassed at my blatant display of desire. I don't think he noticed.

"I meant what I said before, Sweetheart. I won't fuck you until you ask." He must have noticed. Fuck. "I want you, but I won't take from you what you are unwilling to give."

Liam seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply, so I nodded, indicating I understood. My eyes drifted back to his pants. Maybe I should ask now? Liam continued, "Have I been too rough with you?"