“Excellent. That’s it,” I say, so proud of my hold for keeping his climax at bay. “Now, you ready?”
“Please, please, please…”
I’ve tortured him enough, so I give him a few quick thrusts before releasing his shaft, and he calls out with a war cry I haven’t heard him make before, his body thrashing, as wild as I’ve ever seen him. This isn’t the cool, controlled Dax. This is the Dax I want to see, recklessly free as he releases his load.
The jolt it sends through me has me shooting up into him, and I let it rip, our bodies a frenzy of thrusts as he takes everything I have to give, his cry shifting to moans and then heavy breaths like he’s been running sprints. As he collapses against the wall, I rest my chest against his back, biting at his neck.
“Holy hell,” he mutters, sounding shocked.
There’s this wicked thing in me celebrating now because not only did I give Dax Armstrong the time of his life, but I’ve got my seed buried inside him. I continue with subtle thrusts, like my body’s trying to get it as far into him as possible, fully painting his insides with me.
“I’m glad you came over tonight,” I say, which gets us both chuckling. Fucking chuckling.
What the fuck is this guy doing to me?
18
Dax
It’s late. Ididn’t get off work until three, and then we spent hours together, Miles painting me…and the sex… God, the fucking sex. I thought I’d experienced everything. I love exploring, and I’m willing to give almost anything a try. It’s important to me to express myself sexually, and I’ve never let myself hold back, but none of it, and I meannone of it, has ever compared to the way it feels being with Miles Tanner.
It’s powerful even though I’m the one giving up control. Iwantto give up control to him, want to find that place in my head, the one where he takes my body, that no one has ever brought me to before. It’s a fucking rush. It makes me feel wanted, craved, needed, and that’s always done it for me, but it’s even more potent and addicting with Miles, and it alsofeelsdifferent. Like it’s about more than sex.
This is usually when I get dressed and go home, but I don’t want to leave. I want to soak in every moment with him I can have.
“Are you okay?” he asks in that gentle voice I’ve never heard him use with anyone but me, and I’m reminded that there’s something different about me for Miles too.
“Just had my ass wrecked in the most delicious way possible,” I say with extra sass to my voice. “And now I’m hungry.”
“Oh. Do you want something to eat?”
Jackpot. Look at him giving me what I want when he doesn’t even realize it. I have a feeling Miles doesn’t ask people to stay afterward very often. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”
“Why wouldn’t I be down for you cooking me a late dinner?”
I’m about to be scandalized before I see the small smirk he’s trying to bite back. “Fuck you.”
“Or I could fuck you again.”
“Only if you’re good and cook me dinner.”
“I thought I was the one in control here?” he tosses back, playing this game with me and showing me even more sides to Miles. He’s like a book with no cover, one where you don’t know what to expect, only to open the pages and find out it’s even better than you thought it would be, and that you can never guess what will happen next.
“The submissive one is always in control,” I tease, and he swats my ass, sending a delicious thrill through me. “Ooh, do it again.”
He scowls, but I can tell it’s playful. “No.”
“You’re no fun. Can I use your bathroom to freshen up?”
He points. “It’s right over there.”
I make sure to shake my ass as I grab my clothes and head that way. The low rumble I hear tells me he’s watching and likes what he sees.
I take a quick piss, clean up some, wash my hands, and get dressed before I head back to the living room. He’s not there, so I walk over to the painting again.
I don’t have the words to describe what I see. It’s like Miles found all the parts of me, some I knew were there, some I didn’t, and put them on display for me. He understands me in ways no one does, in ways I didn’t know I needed before him. It’s confusing and unexpected. Honestly, I have no idea what to think about it all.
I was never supposed to like Miles, but I do.
