“You’re like a horny teenager. You think everything is hot,” I scoff.
“I am a horny teenager," Miles challenges.Barely,I want to retort but instead I snort and he smirks, adding, "Only when you do it.”
“Someone needed to get her in line,” I murmur. He turns his body to me, his left arm resting on the railing. I mirror his position and I shudder as I say, “Ihatethat it made me so mad.”
“Can’t you just admit that you wanted to defend me? Thatyou, not my fake girlfriend, butyouwanted to defend me,” Miles says. His fiery expression catches me off guard as he closes the space between us.
“What are you talking about?” I breathe.Are we really doing this right now?
“Why can’t you just admit that you want me — like you said at Christmas? That you want me for real. Just as badly as I want you.”
“Miles,” I whisper, a half plea.
He steps closer towards me, our noses grazing each other, as his breath hitches. “Tell me, Wren. Does this feel fake to you?”
I don’t say anything. What could I say? Each day being around him, it gets harder and harder to deny the heavy want building inside me. That I’m low-key annoyed that I didn’t bring my Christmas present with me. That the past few days have been the most fun I've had in my life. That being with him makes me better. Happy. Whole.
The countdown to new year's begins outside.
Ten.
“Miles… Ican’twant you. You know that.”
Seven.
“I’m not asking what you can and can’t do. I’m asking you what you feel. What do youwant, Wren?”
Two.
“I wantyou,” I whisper.One. Fireworks explode beside us as he grabs my face and pulls me into him, catching my lips with his.
Something magical and indescribable happens when our lips meet. I gasp at the suddenness of the kiss, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. I can feel myself floating. As if we’re existing outside of this moment. Maybe it’s the alcohol I had earlier or the heat between my legs, but I feel myself slipping away.
He pushes my head back lightly, deepening kiss as I whimper into his mouth at the force of him. He’s not rough but it’s hard enough that it shocks me a little and makes the intensity in my lower stomach build. He tastes sweet. Like cinnamon.
When I realise my hands have fallen limp at my sides I reach up for the nape of his neck, curling my fingers into his hair. He guides us to the railing and pushes my back against it which is good so he can't see the scars and bruises that I've got n my back over the years. Too many training days gone wrong and too little time to explain that to him.
I come up for air, the wind blowing into my face as I tilt my head back. This time, I go back in gently, my teeth skimming his bottom lip. He smiles into the next kiss, even when his warm mouth touches mine, I can still feel him smiling.
God, we’re barley even kissing anymore as we just smile at each other like goofy high school kids and I love it. One of his hand’s snakes around my waist, pulling me into him, my dress getting caught in the wind. It’s then that I can feel how wet I am. How much it’s dripping between my thighs.
“Let’s go inside,” I pant when I can get a second to breathe. He responds by picking me up from the waist and wrapping my thighs around his middle.
While he carries me into the bedroom, I kiss at his neck, inhaling his cologne. He drops me down onto the edge of the bed, my dress pooling beside me. I quickly reach down and slip off my sandals as he unbuckles his belt. I lay back down, staring at the ceiling, waiting for whatever to happen to happen.
This is a good idea, right? We could do this, get it out of our systems and if this plan works, I’ll never have to see him again. No matter how bad I want to.
“Are we doing this?” Miles asks, kneeling down in front of me, basically reading my thoughts. I push up on my elbows and nod frantically, panting. “Wren. It’s fucking great that you’re enthusiastic, but I need you to tell me with your words.”
“Yes. Yes. We’re doing this, Miles,” I say. Only he can make consent sound so hot. He pulls the material of my dress upwards, just exposing my thighs but he hesitates at the foot of the bed. “Do you need some help?”
He laughs, shaking his head before staring at me for a long moment. Without being able to process it, his hot mouth presses a kiss onto my thighs, making me squirm. He presses featherlight kisses along one thigh before moving to the next. It’s so slow. Drugging. One of his hands wrap behind the back of my thigh, tugging it around his chest while the other splays across my breast. On top of my dress unfortunately. He kisses up my thigh until he gets to where I want him the most, but he doesn’t go all the way. Instead, he makes his journey back down.
“Miles. If you’re not going to put your mouth where I want it, I’m going to deal with it myself,” I groan after he brings his mouth to the edge of my panties three times without doing anything. I look down to him, but I can only see his hair, his face buried deep into my thighs. That’s what I like to see.
“You’re very impatient,” he mumbles against my skin. “I’ve been waiting for this since I met you so I’m going to savour it.”
“How do you think I feel? My vibrator can only do so much,” I whine. He laughs into my thigh again, tickling me. He still doesn’t move anywhere near my panties. Finally, I stand up and he falls back onto his heels, looking up at me. “You’re taking too long.”
