As he strode out of the room, Vivian could only watch in stunned silence. This was a side of Liam she had never seen before, and she found herself grappling with the sudden shift in his demeanor. Clutching the bedding in a tight fist, she struggled to understand what could be so important that he would leave her in the middle of the night without explanation.
The night air carried a chill as Liam's footsteps echoed in the hallway, Vivian was left alone in the bedroom, her mind racing as she attempted to make sense of the unexpected turn of events. The tension that had simmered between them all night had now reached a boiling point.
Liam entered Arla's room to find her clutching her bed covers, her knuckles white with tension. He stood at the doorway, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, and fixed her with a steely gaze. "Next time, don't wander into people's rooms uninvited," he said, his voice cool and collected.
Arla's eyes flashed with anger as she locked eyes with him. "Is marriage a joke to you?" she retorted, her voice shaking with emotion.
Liam took a step toward her, his presence commanding and unyielding. "What makes you think that?" he challenged, his tone unreadable.
Arla rose from the bed, her fury evident in every tense line of her body. "I left that old man's house because I was tired of his reckless ways," she began, her voice dripping with scorn. "Only to marry his exact type."
Liam's eyes darkened as he moved closer to Arla, his gaze never wavering. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
Arla matched his gaze with a fierce glare. "Why did you marry me?" she demanded, her words hanging in the air between them.
Liam's lips curled into a humorless smile as he closed the distance between them. "Don't ask the obvious," he said, his voice a mere whisper. "What were you expecting – that I'd love you?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. "I don't do love," he confessed, his words heavy with implication. "I only do women."
Arla recoiled from his touch, a mixture of disgust and anger etched on her face. "You are a psychopath," she spat, her voice laced with contempt. "You have no respect for marriage or women!" Before she could continue her tirade, Liam lifted her effortlessly off the ground, her legs kicking futilely in mid-air.
"What are you doing?" Arla cried, her fists pounding against Liam's chest as she struggled to free herself from his grasp. But her efforts were in vain. Liam was a well-built man, and she felt as insignificant as a fly in his powerful hands.
"Put me down right now!" Arla demanded, her eyes blazing with fury as Liam held her in his arms. He complied, dropping her onto the bed with a thud.
"Didn't you interrupt because you were expecting something?" he asked, his voice laced with challenge.
Arla scoffed, her disgust evident. "Get your dirty hands off me," she spat, her words dripping with venom. "If you think I'm going to let you use the same hands you used on that bitch on me, then just kill me!"
Liam's eyes darkened as he grabbed her, dragging her toward the washroom. Arla struggled against his iron grip, her protests falling on deaf ears. "Let go of me! What are you doing? Let me go!" she cried, her voice tinged with fear and anger.
Ignoring her pleas, Liam pulled her into the shower and turned on the water. Arla flinched as the cold spray hit her skin. "It's cold! What are you doing?" she demanded, shivering under the icy stream. Liam's lips quirked into a humorless smile as he adjusted the temperature, the water warming under his touch.
As the water cascaded over them, Liam's voice took on a seductive edge. "Still cold?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.
Arla's silver pajamas clung to her body, accentuating every curve and revealing her skin beneath the soaked fabric. Her nipples hardened, and Liam couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.
His gaze roamed over her, taking in her stunning features. With his right hand, Liam ran his fingers through his hair, his muscles flexing under the shower's spray. Arla found herself captivated by his raw masculinity, unable to deny his magnetic allure.
Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze from his, her tone shifting to one of unwavering determination. "Let go of my hands right now," she demanded, her eyes locked on his.
Liam pulled her closer, their chests pressed together as he whispered in her ear, "You didn't want dirty hands touching you, but I'm clean now."
His words sent a shiver down her spine, the intensity of the moment palpable as they stood in the shower, their bodies slick with water and desire.
Arla pushed Liam away, her wet hair clinging to her face as she glared at him. "I won't let a cheating, un remorseful son of a bitch touch me ever again," she declared, her voice trembling with fury. "You won't touch me."
She made a move to walk away, but Liam's strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He turned her to face him, his gaze intense and unwavering. "I always get what I want," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "And what I want right now is you. What you think doesn't matter, so do my bidding."
Arla's hand flew up to strike him, but Liam was quicker. He captured her wrist in his left hand and pinned her against the shower wall, the water streaming over them both. Before she could protest, he forced his lips onto hers, kissing her with a violent passion that left her breathless.
Their bodies pressed together under the cascading water, the tension between them palpable. Arla struggled against Liam's iron grip, but he held her firmly in place, his desire for her evident in every movement. The forcefulness of his kiss sent a shockwave through her, stirring a mix of anger and arousal that left her reeling. As the shower continued to rain down upon them, Arla found herself surrendering to the intensity of the moment, her body responding to Liam's touch despite her best efforts to resist.
Despite the fury that had fueled their confrontation, the raw intensity of Liam's kiss ignited a fire within Arla that she couldn't ignore. Her body betrayed her resolve, responding to his touch with a hunger that matched his own. The water cascaded over their entangled forms, washing away the last remnants of restraint as they surrendered to the passion that consumed them.
Liam's hands roamed over Arla's body, his touch both possessive and reverent. His lips left a trail of fire along her neck, eliciting a moan from deep within her. Arla's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she gave herself over to the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.
He pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing her softly while his tongue danced over her sensitive skin. With a sudden tug, he yanked at her dress collar, the fabric yielding and tearing with a delightful rip. Arla's mouth curved into a pouted smile of pleasure as her fingers tangled deep in his hair. Slowly, he guided his middle finger down and slipped it gently beneath her gown. Arla arched her back, throwing her head back as her grip on his hair tightened. "God, yes. Keep going," she breathed, her voice thick with desire. He chuckled as he rose to his feet, his gaze locking onto hers, her face radiating bliss. "I want you," he admitted, panting. Arla met his gaze, her eyes saying, I know. He rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her. After the first thrust, he had to pause, acutely aware that if he surrendered to the exquisite tightness and overwhelming heat, he would lose himself completely. The warmth of the fire pressed against her back as a hand seized one of her breasts. Arla moaned, tilting her head back to offer him better access. His hands gripped her waist firmly before exploring further.
As they held onto each other, their bodies wet with water and desire, the lines between love and hate, pain and pleasure, began to blur and fade away. Afterward, as their breathing became calmer and their hearts returned to a normal pace, the reality of their situation suddenly hit Arla like a wave. Embarrassed, she slapped him across the face and shouted, "GET OUT!" Liam's eyes darkened, but he didn't say a word. He simply left the bathroom with his body dripping wet. After he left, Arla slid down to the floor and muttered to herself, "You want to play? Just so you know, I've been in this game for a long time." She then stood under the shower, letting the water flow freely over her body. Her face showed a mix of emotions, but there was a strong hint of determination behind her expression.