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His beautiful torso fascinates me. I drop my mouth to it, kissing his shoulder then his Adam’s apple, tasting him, his masculine woody scent driving me to the point of oblivion. I grind my hips and he finds my mouth again, his hands pushing at my shirt, lifting it over my head and dropping it as he walks me deeper into the apartment. Not to his bedroom.
‘I...’ my voice is a croak ‘...want you.’
His laugh is like velvet. ‘No shit.’
I laugh back. He reaches down, unlocking a glass sliding door, carrying me out to his balcony. It’s enormous, with a view of Dublin on one side and darkness on the other—a darkness that is the yawning chasm of the ocean.
Stars glitter overhead, reminding me of Michael’s eyes, of the way a galaxy seems to reside in each one. He puts me down only so he can undo my jeans, pushing them down my legs with haste, desperate need making his actions swift.
And then, with my legs bare, the late summer’s night wraps around me, balmy and gentle, and Michael kisses my thigh, lifting up to my hip and then my stomach, before standing, unclasping my bra and dropping it so I am naked. There is no light here, only darkness; I feel private and safe.
I trust Michael completely.
He undresses and his eyes hold mine as he rolls a condom over his arousal, and I step up on my toes and kiss him, hating that I delighted in robbing him of control when I know how important it is to him, hating that he’s tormented by his momentary lapse in discipline.
Wanting, at the same time, to rob him of control once more, to make him forget everything but the power this wields over us.
He pushes me against the glass doors—they’re cold but I don’t mind.
He lifts me and guides me over him, his cock slides inside me and I can no longer think or regret; I can only feel.
I feel every single cell in my body—the gushing of my blood, the whooshing of my breath, the ticking of my heart, the squeezing of my muscles.
He thrusts in me hard, his body filling mine, and I dig my nails into his shoulders as he holds me close.
Pleasure builds inside me like a wave and when it crashes against me he pulls his head away and watches, his eyes boring into me as I cry his name out and thrash my head from side to side. He watches me and it makes my release all the more intense.
My own control, when it comes to Michael Brophy, is non-existent.
He kisses my throat as pleasure begins to soften and the haze of orgasm fades. He flicks my pulse point with his tongue and I roll my hips, his hard dick teasing me, making nerve endings that are already sensitive quiver and throb.
‘I want to fuck you all night,’ he growls softly against my flesh and I lean my head back, surrendering to everything this is.
Dangerous, seductive desire sparks inside me.
‘Stay the night, Millie.’
His mouth drops to my breast and I jerk when he flicks my nipple with his tongue, pleasure spinning through me. But he clamps his lips around it then and it’s pleasure and pain and my stomach swirls and desire fires anew inside me.
‘There’s still so much to teach you.’
I smile, my heart twisting and my stomach dropping. The promise of what Michael Brophy can teach me pulls me in one direction; the knowledge that sleeping over is dangerously close to more than what we are to one another pulls me the other way.
‘I thought we discussed this.’
‘The terms of our deal don’t change just because you spend the night.’ His breath is feather-light against my cheek. ‘It’s not a fucking marriage proposal.’
I laugh at that, a juddering sound. Because he’s right—I’m being overly cautious. And I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face. I’m going to Paris.
Very, very soon.
What’s the harm in enjoying everything Michael Brophy has to offer until I leave?
I roll my hips and he clamps down on my nipple again, so I arch my back in response, a sharp, visceral reaction. His hands drop to my bottom, digging into the flesh there, and I groan, pleasure building inside me. But he eases me to the ground and, with his hands on my hips, spins me around so I’m facing the glass.
I can make out the faintest reflection as he spreads my hips and cups my breasts with his hands, and then he’s entering me from behind, one swift thrust and, God help me, he reaches new places and this is completely different. His hair-roughened thighs brush against my smooth legs; his powerful body dominates mine in every way. His fingers roll my nipples and his mouth kisses the sensitive flesh at my neck. When I’m almost broken by this euphoria he drops one hand to my clit and massages it, so I am incoherent with all that I am feeling.
He drives into me and I fall apart, my head pressed against the glass as I see stars and heaven and eternity all at once. Tears fill my eyes with the sheer intensity of what I’ve just experienced, my body quivers all over and I’m not myself in that moment. I am simply his.
