Chapter Six: The Taste of Permission

Sarah’s hand still rested on his foot, trembling as if the slightest movement might shatter the fragile reality around her.

The warmth of his skin seeped into her palm, the veins beneath her fingertips pulsing steady, alive. She couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop breathing in the forbidden sight before her.

For years, she had denied this. Buried it. Hated herself for it. But here she was, forty-five years old, divorced, scarred but breathing, finally daring to touch the thing she had once believed made her unworthy of love.

Her lips parted. Her breath came shallow.

Do it, something whispered inside her. Taste it. Claim it.

Her heart hammered as she leaned forward. She didn’t feel forty-five in that moment. She didn’t feel broken. She felt like a trembling girl, fragile and wild, about to touch fire for the first time.

Her mouth hovered inches above Liam’s arch. She hesitated, shame clawing at her, but the unconscious curl of his toes, his reflexive, unguarded movement pulled her in like a magnet.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his arch.

A shiver tore through her body.

And then, “Ughhh…”

Liam’s groan vibrated through the air, deep and unrestrained. His back arched against the headboard, abs tightening into hard ridges, the veins in his arms standing out as his triceps flexed against the restraints. His thighs tensed, muscles straining beneath his skin.

Sarah froze, startled, her lips still against him.

Then his toes curled tight, his foot twitching beneath her kiss, and another sound escaped him, lower, rougher.

“Mmmm… Shhhh…”

The noise rolled over her like thunder, both pained and desperate, and she felt her body flood with heat.

He feels it. He feels me.

Her shame cracked. Her arousal blazed.

She parted her lips, the tip of her tongue flicking out to taste his arch. Slow. Hesitant. A whisper of contact.

Liam hissed, his abs contracting hard, his hips shifting against the sheets. “Ahhh—Sarah…” His voice was strained, guttural, as though he didn’t know whether to beg or command.

She trembled at the sound, her heart racing, her tongue dragging slowly, reverently, across the curve of his arch.

Salty. Warm. Human. Forbidden. Holy.

She moaned softly into his skin, her shame crumbling with every taste.

Liam’s legs jerked, his calves tightening, his thighs flexing so hard the muscles quivered. His toes spread, then clenched again, another rough moan tearing out of him.

“Ughhh—Mmmm—God…”

Sarah’s hands clutched at his ankle, grounding herself as she let her tongue explore further. She licked a slow, sinuous line from the base of his heel, over the arch, up to the ball of his foot.

Liam’s head slammed back against the headboard, sweat beading along his temples, his chest heaving. Every muscle in his body strained, trapped between unbearable tension and helpless release.

She glanced up through her lashes and nearly lost herself. His jaw was clenched, his mouth half open, his face twisted in pleasure that bordered on torment.

And all of it, every sound, every tremble, every strained muscle was because of her.

She dared to go further.

Her tongue slid between his toes, teasing, lingering. The forbidden act she had once imagined in shame, now blooming in reality. She sucked gently, then traced each slender space with deliberate, slow precision.

Liam bucked against the cuffs, a broken groan ripping from his throat.

“Ahhh—Shhhhhh—fuck…”

His abs contracted in hard waves, his triceps bulging as he fought the restraints. His legs shook, thighs trembling with the effort of holding still, his breath breaking in ragged gasps.

Sarah moaned softly into his skin, the sound vibrating against him, and Liam’s whole body convulsed.

“Ughhhhhh—Sarah—God, what are you—” He cut himself off with a strangled sound, his voice dissolving into another helpless moan.

She smiled against him, tears prickling her eyes again, not from shame this time, but from release. From the exquisite freedom of finally, finally embracing herself.

She kissed his toes, tender and reverent, before dragging her tongue slowly across his sole. Her pace was deliberate, maddening, designed to taste every inch, to worship every forbidden detail.

Liam writhed. His chest heaved, abs flexing with every breath, his legs tensing and jerking against her ministrations. He looked like a man on the edge of losing control, undone by something he never imagined could unravel him.

And Sarah… Sarah felt alive. Powerful. Whole.

Her lips pressed harder, her tongue circling the sensitive arch, and Liam’s body bucked violently, his groan loud, raw, unrestrained.

“Uggghhhh—Mmmmmm—God, Sarah, stop—no—don’t stop—”

The contradiction made her shiver with delight.

She pulled back just enough to look at him. His face was flushed, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead, his muscles quivering with tension.

He looked ruined. Gorgeous.

Her hand trembled as she lowered it to his other foot, her eyes locked on his wild expression.

“Liam,” she whispered, her voice low, trembling but sure. “Let me.”

And before he could answer, she dragged her tongue up the length of his second foot, slow and devastating, while his strangled cry filled the room.