He crosses his hands behind his head. He’s such a sight for sore eyes, stretched out on his bed. I throw a leg over and lower myself down onto him. Tentatively, because he’s huge, and it’s been a while. Understatement. But thanks to his handiwork, I’m wet enough to accommodate him easily enough, and I draw him in, inch by inch.
God, this sensation of being filled up.
I can’t believe I’ve left it so long. There is nothing like it, nothing at all. And now I have my reward, andwhata reward. Miles, naked and hard and so bloody gorgeous.
Inside me.
While I’m wriggling down onto him, I keep my eyes on his. His beautiful face is a picture of lust and torment. His mouth is open, his jaw tense, his eyes moving over me as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
His hips leave the bed to meet me as I take the last of him inside me, and we begin to move together. I lean forward, my hair brushing his chest, and he groans. My tongue moves deep in his mouth. His response is hungry, fevered. His hands move over the nape of my neck, pulling me towards him, before he releases me and I sit back up.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he groans as he moves under me. He grabs a pillow from next to him and stuffs it behind his head before reaching forward to grab my ass as I grind down onto him. His fingers trail up my stomach and caress my boob, pinching at my nipple, and despite my very definitive orgasm just now, the combination of those fingers and the intensity of his moving inside me sends waves of heat through my body. My skin is flickering with a light sweat.
I increase my pace.
He gasps and takes hold of my hips, flipping me onto my back and bearing down on me.
‘You okay?’ His eyes are unfocused as he strokes my boobs and stomach, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that makes it hard to catch my breath.
‘Yeah.’ I gasp it out. ‘Harder.’
He rewards me with a full-on dimple display. ‘Jesus, Saoirse. Anything. Anything.’
He braces himself on one arm as he drapes my knees over his shoulders. ‘Okay?’
I nod. More than okay.
‘I’m close,’ he tells me. ‘I’m so close.’
He lowers himself onto his elbows and kisses me, his magic tongue matching his thrusts, his balls slapping against my flesh, harder, just like I asked for, and I writhe beneath him as he fills me up at both ends, consuming me.
And then he moves his head to my neck, and lets out a long, low growl, and empties himself out. I hold him as he shudders, and then he’s kissing my mouth and my neck and my shoulder and my forehead and telling me how amazing I am, how tight, and how beautiful.
I wrap my legs around him and marvel that I’ve been allowed to see this man come undone.
ThatI’mthe reason for his undoing.
I wouldn’t have had Miles Montague down as a big post-coital cuddler, but he is. With me, anyway. His legs and arms wrap around me as we catch our breath, my face buried in his chest and his chin resting on my hair. I breathe him in. Can I live here?
‘You’ve broken me.’ His fingertips trace a featherlight line down my spine.
I giggle.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘I’ve just had sex with my boss. I’m lying naked with myboss.’
‘Bit late for regrets.’ He pulls away from me and peers down. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m very okay. And when my boss is as much of a ride as you, there are no regrets. It’s just a bit weird, that’s all.’
‘Aride? Does that mean what I think it means?’
Eek. ‘Um. It’s an Irish expression. It means you’re very sexy.’
‘Why, thank you.’ He pulls me back in against his chest, and I inhale the scent of him. ‘A ride,’ he mutters.
‘Can I ask you a question? Or a favour?’ His chest muffles my voice.
