Ann's hands moved fast, her fingers curling into the fabric of Liam's shirt with a hunger that caught him off guard. She yanked it upward, tugging it over his head in one swift motion, her nails grazing his skin as she tossed it aside. Liam barely had time to catch his breath before his own hands shot out, seizing the remnants of her satin robe still clinging to her hips.
He pulled it free, ripping it off her body with a roughness that made her gasp, the fabric pooling uselessly on the floor.
For a heartbeat, they froze—her bare skin glowing under the soft light, his chest heaving as he took her in. Then, without warning, Liam's hands gripped her waist, and he shifted her aggressively. One moment she was straddling him, the next she was flat on her back against the couch, her hair fanning out wildly beneath her. He loomed above her, his eyes dark and predatory, drinking in the sight of her—completely naked, vulnerable, and utterly breathtaking.
