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It’s too much, everything is too much right now and I let out a strangled cry as my body shoots straight over the edge into an orgasm that is somehow overwhelming and still not enough, all at the same time.
My head thrashes back and forth on the pillow, my body arches up against him, and tears leak from my eyes as pleasure spirals through me. It goes on and on and on even as my hips rock against him of their own volition, looking for more. Needing more. More pleasure, more contact, more of Miles.
When I come down a little, when I can finally manage to open my eyes and pull a strangled breath into my lungs, it’s to find Miles balanced on his arms above me, his eyes glazed and mouth slack as he watches me convulse. And then he’s sliding a hand between my back and the bed, bowing me up like an offering as he whispers, “You’re so fucking responsive, baby. So fucking good for me. I love it.”
I whimper at the praise and at the hot look in his eyes as he once again lowers his head to my breast. “I can’t,” I gasp, twisting against him. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
“You can,” he tells me with a wicked grin. And then he’s lifting me up a little more and ripping my tank top over my head with one smooth yank. “You will.”
The cold air on my still-damp nipples only makes me ache more, and this time when I open my mouth to beg him to put me out of my misery, all that comes out is a high-pitched, incoherent whine. It must be enough, though, because suddenly Miles is growing still above me, his beautiful eyes going midnight dark, midnight dangerous.
Need flickers in their depths and for the first time I can see that he’s walking a razor-thin wire of control. Can see that he’s as turned on, as desperate, as moved by all that’s happening between us as I am.
Knowing I’m not alone in all this, knowing that he’s as lost and out of control as I am, makes it all so much easier to bear. More, it makes me want to give him as much pleasure as he’s given me, makes me want to push him to the brink of his control and then push him past it.
With that thought in mind, I lick my lips, then watch as his gaze follows my every movement like he’s a starving man and I’m the only sustenance around. I do it again and revel in the groan he doesn’t even try to hold back. Do it once more, just because, and this time I allow my tongue to linger on my lower lip as I eye-fuck him right back.
Lightning crackles in the air as we stare each other down and I can feel the heat of it rip through my body, through my veins and muscles and heart and soul, through every single part of me until Miles is all that I can think about, all that I can feel.
He’s pulling harder on my hair now, everything getting fiercer and stronger as he starts to spin out of control. But each tug only makes me wilder, too, makes me more and more desperate to feel him against me, inside me, all around me.
Dazed with desire, filled with a need that I’m afraid will never be satisfied, I push up onto my elbows and lean forward until I can capture his mouth with mine. And then I kiss him with everything inside me, pouring all the heat and need and confusion in me straight into him.
Miles takes it all, takes everything I can give him and demands more. He demands everything and as I yield to him—as I give him everything that I have and everything that I am—I can’t help wondering if it will finally be enough. If, for once in my life, I will finally be enough.
Chapter 14
Miles
Lust tears through me like a goddamn Molotov cocktail, burning, smoldering, threatening to rip me apart in one powerful conflagration. From the moment I felt Tori come, it’s been building exponentially inside me, growing faster, burning hotter, threatening to spin completely out of my control.
I want to slow it down, want to pull back a little so I can take care of Tori. So that I can pay attention to every single detail and make sure that she gets what she needs from this. From me.
But distance is impossible with Tori wrapped around me, her delicate fingers pulling at my shorts like they contain the answer to all her problems. All I can do is feel and want and take whatever I can get. Whatever she’s willing to give me.
Pulling away from her questing hands and mouth, I stare at her breasts with hungry eyes, my mouth actually watering with the need to taste her—for real this time, with nothing between her skin and my mouth. Her breasts are small, like the rest of her, but perfectly formed and so firm my palms practically itch with the desire to feel her. Bending my head, unable to wait one more second, I take her nipple in my mouth and suck at her hard enough to have her trembling and arching against me.
Tori cries out as her hands slide up my chest to tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck. “Please,” she gasps, rocking her lower body against me. “Please, Miles.” Her voice is high-pitched and breathy,
and it shoots another ball of adrenaline through my system.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her skin before flicking my tongue over the velvet hardness of her nipples again and again.
“Please,” she says again. “Please, please, please,” until it becomes a mantra that swims in my blood, beats in my brain.
“I’ve got you,” I say again, and this time my voice is little more than a growl. The need to slide down the bed, to take her in my mouth and taste her sweetness, is creating a wicked urgency inside me, one I know I won’t be able to resist much longer. But I want to push her a little farther, take her a little deeper, make it so that she loses herself so completely that she forgets everything for a little while. Everything but this.
Everything but us.
“I need you,” she says, her voice breaking on the words, and it’s what I’ve been waiting—no, dying—to hear. I almost swallow her whole as my mouth closes around her nipple with a fierceness I wouldn’t have tempered even if I could have.
It isn’t long before her hips are bucking harshly against me, the muscles of her stomach contracting as her fingers twist painfully in my hair. The small hurt only makes me more desperate, though, and I hold her there for long minutes, suckling one nipple and then the other until she’s nearly incoherent with need. Until she’s almost as close to the edge as I am.
She tastes amazing—like spicy cinnamon and warm vanilla. It’s a combination I doubt I’ll ever get enough of, one that is slowly and completely driving me out of my mind.
There’s a part of me that wants to take her right now, to shove my shorts down, rip off her too-tight yoga pants, and plunge inside her like my sanity depends on it. Then again, maybe it does.
Even so, I’m not ready for this to end so soon, not ready to let her off the hook so easily when I’ve spent the last year wondering what it would take to get her into bed—and what it would be like once I got her here.
