He takes the invitation. His mouth traces a burning path up the side of my throat, leaving no inch of skin untouched. When he reaches my ear, he captures the lobe between his teeth, nipping again before soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Time for the hair,” he whispers.
His hands work with surprising gentleness, plucking the roses free, then the pins. He runs his fingers through every freed lock. I don’t know if I’m actually trembling, or if it is in my head as I watch him through the mirror. He is undoing me piece by piece; it’s not just my hair that’s coming loose. My entire body turns to jelly under his touch.
When he’s freed the back of my head, he gently spins me to face him and lifts me onto the bathroom counter. The top of the dress collapses forward, but the skirt still hangs from my hips. He nudges my knees apart with his thigh and drags my skirts up to step between my legs. It’s just a shadow of a touch along my thighs, but whatever was left of my spine melts for good, and the internal pressure in my body mounts.
Unconcerned with the extremely sexual position, he works at the sides of my head, removing the remaining roses and pins. I can’t keep my hands to myself any longer. I slip them under his sweater, finding warm skin. I scrape my nails down his lower back, and he freezes.
“Are you trying to distract me?” His voice is rough around the edges.
“Is it working?” I tease, repeating the motion.
Liam abandons the remaining roses forming the crown on top of my head and crushes his mouth to mine. The kiss is less controlled than before, as if he can’t help himself. And I’m the one doing this to him, the one unraveling him. That I have this power over him makes me dizzy.
My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer until the hard ridges of him press against me. But too many layers of fabric are still in the way. I want to rip them off both of us.
“You have too many clothes on,” I whimper.
Liam steps back, grabs the hem of his sweater, and pulls it over his head along with the T-shirt underneath in one smooth motion.
My breath catches. I’ve seen Liam shirtless before—not nearly enough—but never breathing hard and looking at me like he’s waiting for permission to lose control.
I hop off the counter and shimmy the dress down my body, stepping out of it as it pools at my feet. Bold as never before, I stand before him in nothing but my underwear—the fancy, lacy set that came with the bridal attire.
Liam’s gaze travels over me, hot and heavy. A muscle jumps in his jaw as he takes me in, and the naked hunger in his eyes makes my toes curl against the cool tile floor.
“You’re stunning,” he says, his voice a reverent whisper.
The muscles in his shoulders and arms shift as he braces his hands against the countertop on either side of my hips, leaning in to capture my mouth again.
Mid-kiss, Liam scoops me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me into the bedroom, this time heading straight for the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping me in his lap as I straddle his thighs.
His hands slide up my back, tracing patterns on my skin that leave searing trails. When they reach my face, he cups my cheeks, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with a tenderness that’s hard to bear.
He doesn’t kiss me again. Liam slows down. He stares at me with an expression so full, so intense, that it steals my breath. Desire laces his gaze, yes—a banked fire ready to roar to but also a deeper, more terrifying emotion.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
He kisses me again, but gentler. His lips move against mine with a new reverence. When he lays me onto the bed, the motion is almost delicate, as if he’s afraid he might break me.
We kiss as he hovers over me, my legs still wrapped around his waist, his weight braced on his forearms beside my head. My hands roam his back, the smooth planes of muscle flexing beneath my touch.
I slide my palms down his sides, find his belt, and unbuckle it. Together, we push his jeans down his legs until he can kick them off, leaving him in just his boxer briefs.
Now that we’re both down to our underwear, he pauses above me. The playfulness from earlier is gone from his eyes, replaced by a naked vulnerability that knocks the air from my lungs.
“Be gentle with me,” he murmurs. “It’s my first time.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. “What, your first time having sex? I don’t believe you.”
But Liam doesn’t join in my laughter. His expression remains solemn. “It’s my first time making love to someone.”
The words explode inside me, fracturing into a thousand glittering pieces that reassemble into a truth I can’t deny. I cup his cheek, cherishing the rough stubble against my palm.
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
His face lights up, breaking into a smile that’s blinding in its happiness.