A soft, needy sound escaped me at the sight of him.
My sex throbbed, aching for the slide, the stretch, the needed friction.
But not yet.
I closed my hand around the base and leaned down, letting him slide into my mouth.
“Fuck,” Milo groaned, his hand slapping down on the back of my neck.
His fingers curled and crushed as I moved up and down his length, driving him up with mercilessly slow movements.
It wasn’t long before his own need had his hips rocking into my mouth, faster, harder.
I moaned around him, loving his lack of control.
The vibration of the sound only made him slam deeper, a low groan escaping him.
Then his hand slid, fingers curling in my hair and pulling me back until I lost him.
When my gaze lifted to his, I found his half-closed with need.
Then he bent down, grabbing me behind both knees, and flipping me back on the bed.
Before I could even draw in a breath, he was buried between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs hard as his mouth and lips worked me with unbearable precision.
Sensation spiraled, hot and dizzying.
My breath felt caught in my lungs under the pressure of the growing pleasure.
My hips rocked into the sensations, begging for more. And Milo was all too happy to deliver.
My soft whimpers grew to desperate moans, as he drove me closer and closer to the edge, with short, strangled gasps.
The tension coiled tighter, tighter.
Then snapped.
And the pleasure surged—hot, helpless, perfect.
Milo’s head shifted, kissing up the triangle above my sex, over my hip, belly, ribs.
The softness of his lips, the tease of his tongue, the scrape of his stubble somehow had the lazy aftermath of the orgasm start to stir, to build.
His tongue traced under my breasts, then he shifted up, sucking my nipple into his mouth with an intensity that felt close to pain even as pleasure bloomed through me.
The desire settled deep, quiet and insistent as he moved across my chest, then slid upward. Lazy, unhurried.
I reached for him, pulling him against me. The firm press of him sent heat spiraling through me as I softened against him, all want and yielding tension.
His hips shifted, and the slide of him against me made my pulse stutter.
His lips met mine again, but all control had snapped. It was lips, tongues, teeth, and desperate need.
My legs bracketed around his hips as I rocked against his hard length. His own hips ground down in time.
He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching into the nightstand, and coming back with what we needed.
The kiss broke as he shifted back on his knees to protect us, then he was over me again.
