POV: Jasmine
I couldn't sleep. Thoughts about the message and tomorrow's first hearing were stuck in my head. I needed to feel something other than fear.
The anonymous threat had burrowed under my skin, festering there like an infection I couldn't treat. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those words—thirty-seven thousand dollars, one night, sold to the highest bidder—scrolling across my vision like a death sentence.
Tomorrow, I would sit in a courtroom and let Adelyn's lawyers dissect my life. Tomorrow, I would perform composure while strangers decided whether I was a victim or a villain. Tomorrow, everything could fall apart.
But tonight, I refused to be afraid.
My fingers moved across the phone screen before I could second-guess myself.
Come over. I need you.
Liam arrived within twenty minutes, concern etched across his features as I opened the door. His hair was disheveled, shirt half-tucked—he'd clearly thrown on clothes and run.
"What's wrong?" His green eyes scanned my face, searching for damage. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
"Nothing's wrong." I grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut behind us. The lock clicked with satisfying finality. "I just need you."
He started to ask another question, but I silenced him with my mouth. The kiss was demanding, aggressive—nothing like our usual tender exchanges. I poured every ounce of fear and frustration into it, channeling the chaos inside me into something I could control.
When I pulled back, Liam's eyes had darkened. He understood. He always understood, my golden retriever who could read my moods better than I could read myself.
"Okay," he breathed. "Whatever you need."
What followed was different from our usual dynamic. Every other time we'd been together, I'd surrendered—to him, to Asher, to Finn, to the overwhelming pleasure of being wanted by three men who treated me like something precious. I'd let them lead, let them worship, let them take me apart piece by piece.
Tonight, I needed control. Needed to be the one directing, demanding, deciding. And Liam, understanding without being told, surrendered completely.
I pushed him backward toward the bedroom, my hands fisted in his shirt. He let himself be moved, let me guide him until his knees hit the mattress and he sat heavily on the edge. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, feeling the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against me through layers of fabric.
"Jasmine—"
"Don't talk." I pulled his shirt over his head, running my palms across the planes of his chest. "Not unless I tell you to."
His breath caught. Something shifted in his expression—surprise, then heat, then complete submission. He nodded once, jaw tight with restraint.
I took my time undressing him. Then myself. Slow, deliberate movements that made him watch, made him wait, made him feel what it was like to want something and not be able to take it. His hands gripped the bedsheets, knuckles white with the effort of staying still.
When I finally sank onto him, we both groaned. The stretch was exquisite, the fullness exactly what I needed—something real, something physical, something that drowned out the noise in my head.
I set the pace. Slow, controlled rolls of my hips that built heat like a gathering storm. Liam's hands found my thighs, steadying me, but he didn't try to take over. Didn't thrust up to chase his own release. Just watched me with worship in his eyes, letting me use his body for whatever I needed.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, breaking my rule. But the words weren't a challenge—they were an offering. "You're carrying all of us through this. You know that, right? The trial, the threats, my father's bullshit—you're the one holding everything together."
"I'm tired of carrying." My hips rolled harder, deeper, the pressure building at my core. "Tonight, I'm taking."
His groan vibrated through both of us. "Then take. Take everything."
I did.
I rode him until sweat slicked our skin, until my thighs burned and my breath came in ragged gasps. The pleasure crested in waves—once, twice, each peak more intense than the last. Liam held on through all of it, his own release building but contained, waiting for my permission.
"Now," I finally gasped. "Come with me."
He obeyed instantly, his hips surging up as he spilled inside me with a broken cry of my name. The feeling triggered my final release—not just physical but emotional, a catharsis that shattered something I'd been holding too tightly.
I collapsed against his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my ear. His arms wrapped around me immediately, holding me together when I threatened to fall apart.
For long minutes, we just breathed. The silence was comfortable, weighted with intimacy rather than tension.
"Tomorrow's going to be brutal," I finally whispered.
"I know."
"Adelyn might win." The words tasted like poison, but I needed to say them out loud. Needed to acknowledge the possibility before it could ambush me in that courtroom.
"She won't." His arms tightened around me, fierce and certain. "You're the strongest person I've ever known, Jasmine. You survived your childhood—the foster homes, the parents who chose drugs over their own kids. You survived selling yourself to save Leo when there was no other option. You survived my father and his sick games." His voice dropped, rough with emotion. "Adelyn doesn't stand a chance against someone like you."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to absorb his certainty like sunlight and let it warm the cold places inside me.
But the anonymous threat lurked in the shadows of my mind, waiting. Whoever sent those messages knew things they shouldn't know. Had leverage they shouldn't have. And tomorrow, when I sat in that courtroom with my entire life on display, they could detonate everything with a single leak.
"Stay tonight," I murmured against his chest. "I don't want to be alone."
"I'm not going anywhere." He pressed a kiss to my hair. "Not tonight. Not ever."
We drifted toward sleep tangled together, his warmth a shield against the darkness pressing at the windows. For a few precious hours, I let myself believe we might actually survive this.