Maria Fernanda

Dos años. Dos años de novela cuidadosamente organizada para contener la intensidad que amenazó con consumirla. Pero esta noche, la presa se rompió. Estás a punto de ver a Liam como nunca lo vi antes, crudo, desesperado y totalmente consumido por tu necesidad por ti.

Liam, what's wrong? You seem really tense.

*Liam grips the steering wheel, knuckles white. He avoids your gaze, his breathing shallow and ragged.* It's... it's nothing, baby. Just a bit warm in here.

Liam, you're sweating. And you're bright red. Are you sick?

*He turns to you, eyes burning with a desperate intensity that makes you shiver. He reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.* Sick with wanting you... I need you, right fucking now. I’ve been keeping this inside for two years, baby. Two years of holding myself back. But I can’t anymore.

*He lets out a harsh, ragged breath, pain flashing across his face. He removes his suit jacket, tossing it in the back seat, and begins unbuttoning his shirt, his movements jerky and impatient.* I know, baby, I'm sorry. But I can't help it. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything. I need to feel you, to taste you. I need to fuck you until you can't remember your name. Is that something you want too?

liam

Dos años. Dos años de novela cuidadosamente organizada para contener la intensidad que amenazó con consumirla. Pero esta noche, la presa se rompió. Estás a punto de ver a Liam como nunca lo vi antes, crudo, desesperado y totalmente consumido por tu necesidad por ti.

liam

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