Crestwood had won.

And that meant one thing: the party of the season.

The final score was brutal — 36–10. Liam Carter had dominated the field, all muscle and fury, eyes storm-dark beneath the stadium lights. The crowd chanted his name like he was a god, but he didn’t smile. Didn’t celebrate.

Because his mind wasn’t on the win.
“This is ridiculous,” Lara muttered, tossing through dresses like weapons. “Why are we even going?”

Ellie snorted from the bed. “Because it’s Ronan Maddox’s victory party. The Crestwood Royals will be there. And more importantly—and as our queen bee ..you have to celebrate it”

"oh pleaseeeee !! it's not like - "

“Liam Carter will be there,” Sera added with a wicked grin.

Lara froze. Looked away.
“I don’t care.”

“You wore heels taller than your morals just for someone you don’t care about?” Ellie teased.

Lara rolled her eyes, lips curving. “It’s not for him. It’s for me.”

"sure" both Ellie and Sera said with wicked grin.

Still, when she slipped into that tight red dress — slit high on her thigh, backless, velvet that shimmered like blood — she thought of him.
What he’d say.
How he’d look.

She lined her grey eyes sharp. Crimson lips. Pulled her hair into soft waves.
A siren built for ruin.

The house was a glass-and-stone fortress overlooking the city.
Inside: red solo cups, flashing lights, bass so deep it made your chest vibrate. Laughter. Smoke. Sin in every corner.

Liam sat on a black leather couch, a drink in one hand, jaw tight. He wore black on black — shirt rolled at the sleeves, veins in his arms flexing with tension.

“You’re seriously still brooding?” Jace said, dropping beside him. “We won. You crushed them.”

Liam didn’t respond. Just sipped. His eyes flicked to the door. Waiting.

“You know she’s coming,” Ronan said from the bar. “Brayden’s driving them.”

Liam’s jaw twitched.

Savannah slinked over, draping herself across his lap like a perfume-soaked blanket. “Congrats, baby,” she purred, dragging a finger down his chest. “Want a private celebration?”

He didn’t answer.

His entire body stilled.

Because she’d just walked in.

The music throbbed like a heartbeat gone wrong.
Red lights pulsed overhead. The air was thick with sweat and smoke.

Lara danced like she didn’t care who was watching — all hips and hair and fire.
The guy behind her wasn’t even subtle. Hands on her waist. Mouth near her neck.

And Liam lost it.

His solo cup dropped.
Glass crunched under his boots.
And before anyone could stop him, he was crossing the room — a storm in human skin.

He shoved through the crowd, eyes locked on her.
The guy didn’t even see it coming.

One second he was grinding on Lara.
The next, he was shoved so hard he hit the floor, coughing.

Liam’s voice was quiet. Too quiet. “Touch her again, and I’ll f**king break you.”

The guy scrambled up, hands raised. “Chill, man—”

Liam grabbed him by the collar. “Want to lose your teeth? Keep breathing near her.”

“Liam!” Lara snapped, trying to pull his arm.

He dropped the guy like trash.

And then turned to her.

Eyes wild. Chest rising and falling like he’d just fought a war.
“Are you trying to make me insane?” he growled.

Lara shoved him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You,” he said. “You’re what’s wrong.”

She stepped closer. “You don’t get to control me.”

“Oh, but I do,” Liam hissed. “Because I see the way you look at me. I feel it every damn time you breathe near me.”

“You’re sick.”

“You’re mine.”

She laughed — short and sharp. “In your dreams.”

And that was it.

That was the final thread.
He grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the shadowed hallway just outside the chaos.

She tried to speak. To curse him. But his hand slid into her hair, gripped tight — and he kissed her.

Hard. Brutal. Possessive.

Teeth clashing. Breath stolen. Like he was starving for her.

And Lara?
She kissed him back.

Because this wasn’t romance.
This was war.

Their bodies crashed like lightning — mouths feverish, unforgiving. His hands gripped her hips like he owned them. Her nails dug into his neck like she wanted to make him bleed.

When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Don’t ever touch another guy again,” Liam growled.

She smirked, lips bruised. “Make me.”

His mouth slammed back onto hers.

His mouth slammed back onto hers — not soft, not gentle, but full of the fire they’d been denying for years.

Lara’s back hit the wall with a thud, and her breath caught. Liam didn’t stop. Couldn’t. His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face up so he could kiss her deeper, darker — like he was trying to consume her.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, just heat and fury and desire.

He groaned — a low, rough sound torn from his throat as her nails scraped his skin. “You drive me crazy,” he breathed, forehead resting against hers. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Lara’s chest was heaving, lips red and kiss-swollen. “Then show me.”

He growled — an animal sound of something wild and possessive — and his hands were suddenly at her hips, gripping tight like he was afraid she’d disappear. His fingers skimmed the bare skin of her back, sliding lower, just beneath the hem of her dress.

Her gasp hitched, sharp and hungry.

His mouth found her neck, kissing and biting with the same desperation that was in his eyes. “You think Brayden looks at you like I do?” he whispered, voice hoarse. “He doesn’t see this,” his hand gripped her thigh, “—he doesn’t feel you shake like this.”

Lara’s breath came out in shaky bursts as his lips traced her collarbone. Her head tilted back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, every nerve in her body on fire.

“Liam…” she whispered, barely holding herself up.

He was everywhere — his breath, his hands, his mouth.

But when he paused, their eyes locked again. And what she saw in him wasn't just obsession. It was hunger. Rage. Need.

A kind of devotion that didn’t feel safe.
But felt too damn good to stop.

Pov - lara

Liam stack me over his shoulder like i am stack of potato and is going god knows where...

"Liam, stop put me down...are you insane ....put me down ...Liammmmmm ..."

"Hush now, Butterfly " Liam said while spanking my butt.

"Liam..you just didn't ---- "

"what this ..." "oh butterfly i have plan of devouring them whole " smirking Liam

I want to snap back but All my senses are filled with Liam . His height. His muscles that might as well be made from granite. The effortless and sure way he holds me. His strength always had me in knots. There’s something about the way he carries me that’s all… male. And his scent. His damn, clean, addictive scent. With my head hidden in the crook of his neck, I can’t resist the urge to inhale him in and safeguard his scent to memory. A door clicks then closes and he stops. It’s my cue to lift my head. I release a breath when I make out a simple, non-characteristic room that must be for guests. There’s a medium-sized bed, a nightstand and a cupboard. Floral wallpaper covers the walls.

My attention drifts back to Liam who’s been watching me intently. Since the beginning of this year, he’s been having this slight draw in his thick brows. It’s like he’s cracking a mathematical problem or a cyber code. The brief show of humanity disappears and the poker face takes over. It’s then I realise that I’ve been holding him like a vice. Worse. We’re alone in a room and he’s blocking the only exit. I attempt to scramble down his body, but his lethal hold tightens around my midsection. “Ow. That hurts!” I push at his chest. “Then stay still.” “Ugh. Let me go, Liam!” “Why? You came here for me, didn’t you?” The arrogance of this bastard. “You wish, arsehole.” “Then who did you come for, hmm?” His eyes spark, and it pisses me off. He pisses me off.

Liam throws me on the bed and crawls atop of me. My breath hitches when I make out the crazed look in his eyes. It’s as if someone turned the switch on. I turned the switch on. I lie beneath his looming body. His shoulders strain against the cloth of his T-shirt and he’s breathing heavily as if he’s coming down from a run. I clench my thighs together not wanting him to see the overwhelming affect he has on me. Because at this moment when he’s all threatening and scary, I don’t see the danger. I should see the danger. Instead, I’m searching behind that danger, thirsting to dig my claws in him and rip open the poker face to peek behind it. I’m almost sure I’ll find a monster, but I still want to see it anyway. I still want to see what he’s made of. Why he’s made this way. His hand reaches for my face. I swallow as he traces a sensual finger down my cheek. It’s meant to be soft, but all I see is the darkness lurking beneath the surface. I crave it. I want him to unleash it. If he’s sick and I want his sickness, what does it make me? “Seems that night in the rain did you no good.” His voice is too calm as he pinches my cheek. “I told you, sweetheart. You’re already mine, so stop acting otherwise.” “I’m not yours.” “Being mine is a fact, not an option. I don’t give a fuck if you embrace it or fight it in front of me.” He nuzzles his nose over my cheek. “But I’m done giving you freedom. You don’t get to act like you don’t belong to me.” “Or what?” He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know that.”

"Why - "

I am cuted in between as his mouth is again on mine ...liam doesn't kiss he devours whole ...like there is no way out ..