The drive to Liam's penthouse was quiet, but the air between them hummed with unspoken things. Grace sat beside him in the sleek, black car, her fingers gently tracing the edge of her wineglass. She had never been here before not his car, but in this place where nothing felt calculated , Nothing felt like a performance.
And she wasn't sure if she was ready.m
Liam's hand brushed against hers once, twice, until finally, he took it, his thumb smoothing over her skin in a quiet, comforting rhythm. She let him and also let herself feel the warmth of his touch, the way he made her forget everything else.
When they arrived, Liam led her inside with a careful urgency, as though afraid that if he moved too quickly, she might slip away. The penthouse was stunning in its simplicity , modern, with touches of personality; books stacked in neat piles, a sleek kitchen that didn't feel intimidating, art on the walls that seemed to speak more of who he was than anything else.
He didn't offer her a tour. Instead, he moved to the kitchen, his back turned as he pulled ingredients from the fridge. Grace leaned against the counter, watching him, a little unsure. But he wasn't rushing, wasn't pushing her. He was... taking his time.
"Wine" he asked, turning to face her.
She nodded, watching as he poured them each a glass. The way his hands moved gracefully , deliberately pulled her in closer than the distance between them ever could. When he turned to hand her the glass, she didn't reach for it immediately. Instead, she stared at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, any clue about where they stood.
"You still haven't said it," she said quietly.
Liam furrowed his brow, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Said what?"
"What this is. What we are."
He set the wine down on the counter and stepped closer to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, close enough that she couldn't breathe without him filling her thoughts.
"Grace …" He whispered her name like it was the only thing he knew how to say. "I don't know what this is yet. But I know what I feel." His hand brushed the side of her face, his thumb tracing her jawline with such tenderness that it stole her breath. "And I'm done pretending that it doesn't matter."
Her heart raced, a strange mix of fear and excitement coiling in her chest. She didn't know if she was ready, but she also knew that she didn't want to hold back. Not anymore.
She stood there, motionless, as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in the gentlest of kisses. It wasn't the same as the first fueled by a power struggle, by wanting to claim and conquer. This kiss was different. It was tentative, unsure, as if both of them were waiting for the other to make the first move.
But Grace didn't wait.
She reached for him, her hands sliding around his neck, pulling him closer. And when their lips met again, it was deeper, more urgent, as though they both couldn't stop themselves anymore.
Liam responded with equal intensity, his hands tracing the curve of her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Her body pressed against his, the heat of him filling every inch of her. It felt natural. It felt right.
She gasped when his hands slid to the back of her dress, fingers gently tugging at the zipper. She wasn't sure if she was ready to let go or if she was ready to cross that line. But as he pulled the fabric down, baring her skin to the cool air, she realized that she wanted this. Wanted him.
Liam's hands were gentle, but his kiss was fierce now, his need matching her own. He pulled her toward him, guiding her to the couch, both of them never breaking the kiss. When they finally pulled away, breathless, he looked at her, his eyes darker, more intense.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough.
Grace nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. "I trust you."
And that was enough.
She let him undress her slowly, his fingers brushing against her skin with a reverence that made her pulse race. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but not in a way that scared her. He didn't look at her like a conquest. He looked at her like she was something precious , something worth waiting for, something worth exploring
When they were both naked, he hovered above her, his body tense, waiting for her to give him a sign. She reached for him, pulling him down, her hands threading through his hair, and kissed him deeply, desperately, with all the longing that had been building between them.
Liam groaned into her mouth, his hands on her waist, as if he couldn't keep his distance anymore. His body pressed into hers, and for the first time, Grace felt truly seen ,truly desired , not just for her intellect or her strength, but for everything she was, everything she felt.
The kiss deepened, and before she could even process the moment, he shifted, moving between her legs, and she gasped in anticipation, every nerve in her body alive.
But as their bodies finally met, it wasn't the overwhelming rush of lust she had expected. Instead, it was something slower, more intimate. It was him, taking the time to make her feel safe, to make her feel cherished. Every inch of him felt like a promise, and she surrendered to it, trusting him completely.
Their bodies moved together, slow at first, as if testing the waters. But soon, the rhythm between them deepened, as their passion grew. Grace's hands gripped his back, pulling him closer, urging him on. She wasn't afraid anymore.
Liam whispered her name, his voice low and filled with awe. And when they finally reached the crest together, it was an explosion not just of passion, but of connection. Of everything they had fought against, now finally surrendering.
Afterward, they lay together, tangled in the sheets, both of them silent for a while, just breathing, just being.
Liam turned his head to kiss her temple, his voice soft. "I told you, you are worth more ."
She smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in her heart.
"Me too," she whispered back, her fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "Me too."
And for the first time, she wasn't afraid to admit it