Page 20 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

I glared, but my hips betrayed me, rocking against his palm. He chuckled, dark and knowing, as he dragged his fingers over my panties, the lace already ruined and clinging to my skin.

“Pathetic,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Beg for it.”

I reached up and swatted his hand away. “You better make it worth my while, fish boy.”

He sat back on his heels, his shirt hanging open, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. The muscles of his stomach were so defined they looked carved from marble.

Gold medalist indeed.

Every inch of him was built for power, and right now, that power was focused on me.

“I thought I’d ruin my pants, but then you had to throw champagne at me—what the fuck are you doing?” He snapped when I reached down, my hand wrapping around his wrist where it sat between my legs, and I pushed. I forced his fingers harder against me, demanding the friction I was dying for.

“Oh, you just want me to finger your sopping wet cunt?” He asked, letting out a dark, jagged chuckle. “Is that it?”

He was enjoying this way too much.

He let out a patronizing tsk. “Didn’t know I’d be alive to see the day Deepika Sharma was begging for my fingers.”

A shiver ran through me because he looked like—no. I can’t let him see how much he affected me.

“Now,” I said, trying to regain some shred of control. “Are you going to do something about it, or should I do it myself?”

I hated that I sounded so out of breath despite lying on a slightly uncomfortable bed.

We should have booked a suite.

Liam paused, a slow smirk spreading across his swollen lips, his blond hair glittering in the dim-light. He had soft angel hair, but managed to look absolutely devilish with that dirty smolder curling on his lips.

“By all means, Sharma. Show me how you fuck yourself.”

The arrogance in his voice made my blood boil. It ignited something feral in me, and I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face more than I wanted to breathe.

I slid my hand beneath the waistband of my thong. The lace was barely holding on as my fingers trembled, finding my clit and circling it with a frantic rhythm. Liam’s eyes went nearly black as he watched, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

I let out a shaky moan, my eyes locking onto Liam’s gray eyes that went nearly black. The smugness vanished, replaced by a raw, predatory hunger.

Having him watch me pleasure myself felt hot, and I couldn’t ignore how embarrassingly wet I was, the sound of slippery⁠—

Before I could process the shift, he was moving.

“Fuck,” he whispered, diving between my thighs with a growl. His tongue dragged over my panties, the silk doing nothing to muffle the heat of his mouth. His head disappeared beneath the hem of my dress, making me gasp.

OhMyGod.

“W-what are you doing?” I cried out, my fingers tangling in his thick hair to pull him away, but he was solid and relentless.

“I’m just... having a taste, that’s all,” he whispered against my sensitive skin.

I know you have already orgasmed.

Stop being so selfish, Dee.

I pursed my lips, trying to snap out of the different thoughts. But I couldn’t. The pressure to perform washed over me, so I arched my back, letting out a performative, high-pitched moan that felt wrong the second it left my lips.

Liam stopped. His gray eyes snapped to me as he pulled away, his lips glistening and pupils blown wide.

“Did you just fake an orgasm with me?” He asked, baffled as I closed my legs, trying to look anywhere else but at him.