The movie forgotten behind me, I push my fingers through his short, dark hair, gripping his head, taking control and kissing him like my life depends on it. I rock my hips, feeling him harden beneath me.
He slides his hands up my back, pushing my shirt higher until it’s bunched up underneath my breasts. Miles pulls away just enough to pull my shirt over my head, leaving me exposed and grinding against him in nothing but thin cotton leggings and my bra.
“Stop, Miles. Stop,” I whisper on an exhale.
A pained groan rumbles in the back of his throat as he continues to kiss and lick at my lips. “Why? This movie was finally getting interesting.”
On wobbly legs, I stand from the couch and bend over him to grab my shirt from where it landed, hanging over the back cushion.
“God, yes,” he mumbles as he pulls me back down to him, burying his face in my cleavage.
A giggle bubbles out of me as his beard tickles my sensitive chest. It turns into a moan as his tongue darts out, and he licks and sucks at first one breast and then the other.
“You have the most beautiful”—kiss—“amazing”—suck—“bitable tits I’ve ever seen.” He clamps his teeth down on my nipple, through the lace of my bra, and I just about explode.
“No,” I moan. “We can’t.” I force myself to pull away from his touch even though every cell in my body is screaming to get closer.
“Chloe, baby, you’re killing me,” he groans, reaching into his shorts to adjust his cock.
I take a step back, tugging at his free hand until he stands. We’re plunged into darkness when I hit the remote, turning the TV off, and I pull him with me as I walk backward toward the stairs.
“Not here. Not where Jake might walk through,” I say, clearing the confusion from Miles’s face. “Upstairs. Please,” I beg.
Miles pauses at the base of the stairs but only long enough to scoop me up and wrap my legs around his waist. Without making even the slightest of noises, he carries me up the stairs and down the hall to my bedroom. He closes the door behind him, silently flipping the lock. At the edge of my bed, he releases his grip, so I slide down his body, feeling every glorious inch of him along my descent.
He stares into my eyes, my face cradled between his calloused hands. “You’re sure? You’re ready for this?” His concern for me, the way he treats me as though I’m delicate, something to be treasured, is one of the sexiest things about him.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
In the space of a heartbeat, Miles goes from restrained to almost frenzied. Kissing me as he flicks open my bra and tosses it to the floor. His tongue laves a lazy trail between my breasts and down my stomach, dipping into my belly button.
I gasp and squirm as goose bumps pebble my skin.
I giggle and then moan as he curls his fingers into the waistband of my leggings, pulling them and my panties down my legs as he drops to his knees. He kisses the stretch marks that stripe my abdomen. Nips at each of my hip bones and buries his face in my pussy.
I sway and wobble as he pushes my feet apart, granting him access to the most intimate part of me. The place that only one other man has ever known. And as much as I thought sharing that part of me would be hard to do, it’s absolutely not.
In fact, the only thought in my mind is,More, more, more.
Miles licks and sucks, teasing me with a featherlight touch as his hands roam over my ass and caress my thighs.
“Lie down,” he grunts, gently pushing me until I’m cradled in the cloud of my duvet.
He throws one of my legs over his shoulder and worships me with his tongue and hands until my legs start to tremble and an orgasm screams through me, leaving me gasping for breath.
“One,” Miles murmurs, crawling up me.
He nuzzles my neck and slides his arm under me, and much the way he’s done in the past, he manipulates my body, pulling me up the bed as he moves. He sheds his shorts, pushing them away as if they’ve offended him.
Our lips press together, hungry for more. Consuming until Miles pulls away, fumbling for his wallet. Finally, he puts the foil wrapper to his mouth and rips, rolling the condom down his length. With both of us protected, he settles his hips between my thighs and cradles my head in the palm of his hand.
Slowly, almost torturously so, he enters me. Rocking gently, bit by bit, until I’m completely and blissfully filled. Miles pauses, fully seated, and hangs his head, each panting exhale blowing a measured puff of breath across my chest.
“Need a second.” He forces the words out, almost as if he’s in pain.
Unable to hold still, need driving me, I start to rock my hips, pulling a low groan from him. I feel the groan rumble through my chest, his thighs trembling where they’re wedged up against the backs of my legs. And then he moves. Filling me, caressing me, kissing me breathless until the pressure builds, spilling over as he swells and pulses in glorious and blissful release.
He covers my mouth with his, swallowing my moan. Hungry kisses calm to lazy caresses of his lips trailing down my jaw and to my neck, where he sucks and nips and soothes.
