My hands gripped the sheets, my breath ragged. Liam had turned into something else. A


    beast. A storm.


    And God… I liked it.


    He thrust harder, faster, one hand gripping my hip, the other sliding under to toy with that sensitive bundle of nerves until I was choking on moans.


    When I came, it wasn’t soft or shy, it ripped through me like fire. I screamed his name again and again, my body convulsing around him.


    He wasn’t far behind.


    With a groan that sounded more animal than man, he followed me over the edge.


    We copsed in a sweaty, shaking heap.


    And still, he didn’t move away.


    He held me.


    His hand smoothed over my back, down my thigh, as if reassuring himself I was still there.


    I’d never felt so wanted.


    So taken.


    So ruined.


    Because now I knew–I would never want anyone else again.


    Liam was soft after.


    Gentle.


    He cleaned me up, kissed my shoulder, whispered things I couldn’t hear properly through the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction.


    We tangled in the sheets again. We touched. Talked. Laughed a little. And yes, we went


    13:36


    again, maybe twice–before sleep finally imed us.


    And like he’d promised, his name was the only one I screamed all night.


    228 Voucher


    I woke to an empty bed.


    The space where Liam had been was warm, but vacant.


    Panic red in my chest. I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest, heart thudding.


    Where was he?


    Had I misread everything?


    Did he leave?


    I was two seconds from spiraling when I heard it, soft footsteps down the hallway.


    The door opened.


    And there he was.


    Liam walked in carrying a tray with both hands, shirtless, hair a mess, that crooked grin on his face.


    “Good morning, chef,” he said. “Thought I’d serve you for a change.”


    I blinked. “You made breakfast?”


    He ced the tray over myp and sat on the edge of the bed, watching me like a proud kid who had just finished a science project.


    I stared at the eggs, the toast that looked slightly… dark, and the bacon that was aggressively crispy.


    I tried not tough.


    “Wait,” I said, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”


    He raised a brow. “Rude. I put my heart into this.”


    “Oh, it’s the thought that counts, right?”


    13:36


    <b>288 </b>Vouches.


    He nodded. “Exactly. I mean, I picked up a few things during that lockdown storm situation. I watched you work. Took notes.”


    I took a careful bite.


    He waited.


    “How is it?” he asked.


    “Do you want the truth or do you want me to tter you?”


    He winced. “Hit me with the truth.”


    I swallowed and smiled sweetly. “It’s horrible.” <fn91ae> Updates are released by find~novel</fn91ae>


    Liam groaned, copsing back onto the bed with augh. “Knew I should’ve just ordered in.”


    “No, no–it’s endearing. Like watching a toddler try to paint a masterpiece.”


    “I forgot you’re a chef,” he muttered.


    “Who says you can’t impress one in the kitchen?” I teased, taking an exaggerated bite.


    He shot me a look, half daring, half amused–as if to say wanna bet?


    “Okay, fine,” I added. “I’ll make us something edible.”


    “Deal.”


    I slipped out of bed, pulling his oversized shirt around me. It hung almost to my knees and smelled like him.


    When I stepped into the kitchen…


    I screamed.


    “Liam!”


    He came running in, looking genuinely rmed. “What? What happened?”


    “What happened in this kitchen!” I pointed at the stove, the three pots he’d somehow used just to make eggs and bacon, and the trail of flour across the counter like a storm had passed through.


    <i>13:36 </i>


    288 ?Vouchers


    He winced. “I, uh… got creative?”


    “This looks like a crime scene. In a kitchen.”


    “Pretend you can’t see it. The cleaning crewes in a few hours.”


    “Nope.” I grabbed a towel and tossed it at him. “We’re fixing this. Together.”


    He groaned, reaching for a sponge like it might bite him. “You’re evil.”


    “Call it culinary karma,” I smirked. “Next time, just stick to toast.”


    <i>” </i>


    We spent the next twenty minutes wiping, scrubbing, and throwing things away whileughing at his cooking attempts. It was messy and domestic and weirdly perfect.


    When the kitchen finally resembled something functional again, I made us breakfast. Proper breakfast.


    Liam sat on one of the bar stools at the ind, watching me like he was watching something sacred.


    “You really love it, huh?” he asked as I flipped eggs onto tes.


    “What?”


    “Cooking. You look peaceful when you do it.”


    <i>“</i><i>I </i>


    I smiled. “It’s where I feel the most like myself.”


    We ate at the ind, side by side. It was quiet, peaceful.


    And almost too perfect.


    That is, until Liam finished hisst bite and kept staring at me.


    I raised an eyebrow. “What?”


    13:36


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