Milo whispers something in Russian two or maybe three times. While I don’t fully hear him, or understand it, I can sense the phrase’s heaviness all the same when he curls himself into me and breathes like hetoocan feel the axis of the world shifting from underneath my bed.
I wrap my arms around him, linking my fingers against the middle of his back and holding him tightly. “Is it…” I start to speak, then fall silent after a moan as he rolls his hips against me. “Is it always likethis?” I ask, digging my fingertips into the sharp edge of his shoulder blade. Despite the cool autumn air outside, warmth continues to fill the room. A bead of sweat makes its way down next to my ear, my entire body heating to what feels like a dangerous degree.
“Never,” he answers sternly, rocking into me once more with his grip tightened on my shoulder and hip. “It hasneverbeen like this for me.”
“Oh,” I say, unconsciously licking my lips as my eyes drift closed. “Oh,” I repeat, feeling Milo carve his name against parts of me previously left untouched. “Oh,” I begin to chant with each of his long, languid, rolling thrusts, over and over and over again.
“That’s it,” he whispers in my ear, his cheek pressed against mine. “That’s my girl.” He angles his hips, hitting a new spot that makes me cry out in his steadfast hold. “Tonight is all about you. Take anything you want from me.” He says it as if he’s offering up more than sex. Like he’d hand me his heart or soul if I asked him to.
God,I want to ask.
“Yesss…” I whimper, feeling the good kind of pressure in my lower belly build toward something new and daunting. But I trust Milo to take me there, wherever it may be. I really, really trust him. “Milo, it feelssogood.”
“I know, Killer. I’m here with you. You feel unbelievable. You’re doing so, so well. Are you ready for more or not yet?”
“Yes, please,” I answer, quietly. “Milo”—his name is a plea—“I…I’m so glad it’s you.”
He roars wordlessly, a rolling, deep, appreciative moan from the back of his throat set free.
“Thank you,” I tell him as he begins fucking me at a steady pace, softly sliding out but urgently returning with thrusts that echo throughout my bedroom. As my pleasure builds to what feels like a point of no return, I have no choice but to offer up one more foolishly hopeful truth.
“I-I feel likeyours,” I whisper while he sucks the skin above my collarbone into his mouth.
Milo’s forearm under my neck flexes, tightening his hold across my shoulders. He buries his face into my neck, breathing shakily. “Fuck, Prue. Say that again,” he says, his voice low and uneven.
“I feel like yours,” I repeat, beginning to tremble.
Milo presses his bared teeth into the side of my jaw with a heady groan. “Again,” he commands.
“Yours,” I whisper a dozen times, my voice far-off andentranced, as he nips and bites at my jaw, releasing loud, greedy moans in my ear.
“Fuck, Prue.” Milo slams into me, retrieving a high-pitched squeal from me. He rotates the angle of his hips once more, tilting upward to pierce a deep, deep part of me I’d not previously known.
I whine out his name, my chest too tight to take a full breath.
“You tell me to stop if you need me to,” he says, retreating slightly just to rut into me once more. “I’m—”
“Don’t you dare stop.” I cut him off with my tongue against his lips, begging to be let in. I cannot contain this feeling. This urgent desperation formore.I need more of him, everywhere. His tongue, his dick, his hands. I need him closer, somehow. Closer than my own skin.
Milo matches my needy chaos, our wet, sloppy kiss turning feral as he continues to fuck me over the edge of mindless oblivion.
“Yes!” I cry out, then cut myself off as I bite down into his shoulder.
Milo groans out in pain and then releases a breathy laugh.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, removing my teeth.
“Don’t be,” he whispers raggedly, his wild eyes finding mine. “You’re my fuckin’ dream girl. Give in to all of it, Prue. Feel everything. Let me hear you. Feel you.”
A smile overtakes my face, quickly bent out of shape by a burst of pleasure as he drives into me once more.
“Oh, you like hearing that?” he teases, his voice cool in striking contrast to his stern expression. “That you’re the woman of my dreams?”
“Yes, yes I do,” I tell him between panting breaths as that coiled ring of pleasure continues to twist and wind inside of my lower belly, threatening to spring free.
He hums darkly, sliding his lips against mine as he crooks his hips once more, pausing to let me catch my breath after impact. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this…Never—”
I tried to keep it in, truly, but the jittering moan escapes anyway, cutting him off. I feel myself climb one rung farther up the ladder toward what seems to be a newfound type of euphoria.
