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“You won’t.”

“You sound so sure,” he said, voice thick and gruff.

“I really am. No one goes through the things you have and comes out unscathed. So yes, you might be a bit broken and bruised, but you’re so much more than that. You’re good, Liam. So, so good.”

Those steely blue eyes shimmered. “I don’t know what to do about all of this”—he tapped two fingers against his temple—“it’s a giant fucking mess.”

“There are people, wonderful, qualified people who can help.” My hands found his, and I tangled our fingers together. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

There was no time to respond—not that I had any idea what to say to that. Liam’s mouth was on mine. This kiss was different than any of the others we’d shared. Maybe it was the rawness of the moment or my own realization of how deeply in love I was with my husband.

Every gentle lap and slow stroke of his tongue sent a roaring flame rushing through my veins. One that burned so much hotter than lust. Lust was easy to get rid of. But this, this marrow-deep need I had for this man was engraved in every part of my being.

I’d never wake up and not crave him.

And honestly, I never wanted to.

Liam deepened the kiss, groaning as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held my body close to his. Not even an inch separated us, and it still wasn’t close enough. My arms went around his neck, and I rose onto my toes.

Liam’s feet moved, slowly walking us backward until my back hit the mirrored wall. Gone was the slow and easy kiss from earlier. In its place, something savage and frantic. His tongue no longer teased; it swiped through my mouth in unsteady, harsh strokes.

He feasted on me like he couldn’t get enough. And I let him. Oh boy, did I let him. With another groan, his hands smoothed around my waist and up along my sides. He reached my breasts, pausing to brush his thumbs over my hardened nipples.

“Hmm.” I arched my back into his touch, not even embarrassed in the slightest by the needy noises he drew from the back of my throat with that barely-there caress. “More.” I shocked myself with that one-word plea because I honestly was ready for more.

I needed it.

So freaking desperately that I almost forgot about the bright lights. There’d be no hiding. He’d see me. All of me.

Was I ready for that?

Or rather, did I trust him enough to give him this vulnerable part of me?

“More,” I said again, louder and clearer this time.

His big hands immediately covered my breasts. Fingers digging into my skin, he molded and massaged until goosebumps littered my skin.

Of course, he thought I’d meant I wanted him to pay more attention to my chest, which I did, I just wanted it with far less layers of clothes between us.

Tearing my mouth from his, a whispered “Wait” tumbled over my lips. Liam immediately took a step back to give me space. This was who he was. The guy who would stop in the middle of a heavy make-out session because I asked him to.

His mouth popped open with an apology; I was sure. Before he could voice it, I quickly undid the first button of my shirt, then the second and third. Liam’s gaze flicked to my fingers, then snapped back up to meet mine.

“What are you doing?”

The gravel in his voice should’ve been illegal. No sound was allowed to send so many delicious tremors through my body.

The fourth button snapped open. With this one, my heart picked up a few gears. My shirt was open enough for him not only to see the swell of my breasts but the silk and lace covering them, too.

I drew in a deep breath and then lowered my hands to my sides. A sharp hissing noise immediately tore from Liam’s throat. Curses spilled over his lips as he stared at my bra like it was a freaking piece of art.

Nothing in the world could’ve made me feel more beautiful than I felt at that very moment.

He slowly slicked his tongue over his bottom lip and met my gaze.

“More. Fuck, I need more.”