Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
ANNIE
"Are you okay?" Miles asks cautiously as he shuts the front door of his apartment behind him.
I huff as I stomp childishly toward the living room and plop down on the comfy couch. With a sigh dramatic enough to rival one of my mom's, I yank the throw blanket from the back of the couch and toss it over my legs. I'm not cold, just desperate for some kind of comfort.
"I'll take that as a no."
I throw myself back to lie longways across the couch. I think I might be making myself a little too comfortable in this apartment. Going back to the motel with my mom when they finish cleaning up from the water damage is going to be twice as painful as the first time we moved in there.
Mom's bed and breakfast has always been a great home but now I've been exposed to real luxuries... like Miles' well-stocked personal library.
"Do you want some tea?" Miles asks, hovering in the space between the living area and the kitchen.
I wrinkle my nose. "How about coffee instead?"
"You had a lot of coffee this morning." His voice is thick with judgment. "I think tea would be more relaxing."
"What's relaxing about depriving me of coffee?" I look over and bat my eyelashes at him. Withholding coffee from me at this moment would be an unimaginable evil. Besides, I find coffee perfectly relaxing. After all, my bloodstream is practically made of the stuff at this point.
Miles shakes his head with a strangled sigh. "Fine but don't blame me if you can't sleep later."
I shut my eyes as he goes into the kitchen, letting myself focus on the clattering sounds of kitchen utensils being moved around. Then the water faucet running. The sound of the gas flame of the stove being ignited. Miles makes coffee in a French press because of course he does.
My mind wanders back to the events of the day. From the unexpected interaction with my grandparents to the disastrous reveal to my mom. Hopefully, by tomorrow she'll forgive me for going behind her back. I don't know how to properly grovel if she doesn't, but I'll come up with something if I have to.
All my mom and I have had most of our lives is each other.
"Are you sleeping?"
I peek one eye open to look up at Miles as he stands over me. "If I was, you would have woken me up."
He shrugs shamelessly.
"I wish I could quiet my racing thoughts." My admission seems to surprise us both into momentarily stunned silence. I didn't mean to get so vulnerable. I twist my fingers anxiously around the throw blanket for something to do while Miles stares intensely down at me.
His gaze moves down to watch my grip for a few moments. He suddenly snatches the blanket away and tosses it across the room onto the floor. My eyes widen.
"Let me help distract you," he croons in a gravely voice. His eyes have gone hooded as he does a slow perusal of my body, looking over every inch of me as if I'm dressed in lingerie rather than a plain T-shirt tucked into maroon, wide-legged pants.
My outfit is more office-appropriate than what my mom wore today. Not even remotely sexy... and yet I feel like the sexiest woman in the world as Miles climbs onto the couch between my legs, nudging my knees further apart to make space for him between them.
He kneels, tugging his plain black shirt over his head and discarding it behind the couch. He grips the back of the couch to lean forward, flashing a hint of a smile at me as my breathing grows heavy.
"This is very distracting," I whisper.
He smirks. "Exactly."
He makes quick work of undoing his belt next. I nearly ask him to slow down so I can spend more time enjoying the way his hands move to pull the leather belt out from the loops and undo the metal clasp. His belt follows his shirt.
My mouth feels desert-dry as he uses one hand to flick open the button on his dark-wash jeans. I can't decide whether to stare at the bulge of his crotch or look up at his eyes, framed perfectly behind his glasses with his curls falling messily over his forehead.
He's a beautiful man. So incredibly attractive.
I look down again as the sound of his zipper seems to echo in the living room. I'm surprised I manage to hear the sound over my breathing as I practically pant while watching his mild strip show.
"You can keep going," I tell him when he pauses for too long, one hand lingering at the opening of his jeans as he drops the other to caress the top of my thigh through my pants—which I suddenly wish were made of a thinner material.
Miles chuckles. "Don't be so impatient. You're still wearing a lot of clothes, yourself."
I yank at the sides of my shirt to untuck the material from the waistband of my pants. Luckily, the waistband has some give to it. Miles presses himself on top of me and grabs my wrists, stilling my hands before I can try to pull my shirt up anymore.
"I thought I just told you not to be so impatient." His tone is harsher and more demanding. The brown of his eyes has darkened too, but I still see a playfulness in them that lets me know this is safe. This is more about sex than real control.
I've never played like this, but I find myself whimpering, "I'm sorry," anyway.
"All is forgiven." He releases my wrists. "So long as you stop trying to unwrap the gift meant for me. I'm not interested in sharing my presents, not even when it comes to opening them up."
He winks at me as my mouth falls open.
I shut my mouth quickly as his lips descend upon mine, devouring me. He always seems to kiss me like he's memorizing me. Maybe he is. Maybe we're both aware of how blurry the lines of our fake relationship have become and he wants to memorialize the way I taste just in case .
A sobering thought. One that I push away quickly. There's no room for sadness with the weight of Miles' body over mine.
I lose myself to him, kissing until he grows impatient himself and climbs off the couch. I whimper a protest over our broken kiss but the sound is cut short in my throat when he leans forward and tugs at my shirt. I lift my arms to help him begin the process of undressing me.
My heartbeat is erratic as he moves on to my pants next, unbuttoning them with both hands and then sliding them carefully down my legs. My panties are plain and nude colored but he grunts his appreciation anyway as he slides his hands up my bare thighs until he reaches my hips and tugs at the waistband of my panties, dragging them off too.
"Sit up," he commands me.
As soon as I do, he reaches behind me to unclasp my plain bra. He doesn't seem to care that my undergarments aren't the least bit seductive.
"Stand."
My heart is racing out of control as I do as I'm instructed without question. Something is reassuring about being told exactly what he wants me to do. No guesswork. I'm good at following directions.
"Turn around."
He puts his hands on my hips as soon as my back is to him.
"Kneel on the couch and put your elbows on the back of the couch."
I look over my shoulder at him and yelp, "What?"
His request sounds a little more obscene than anything I'm used to. He's asking me to... bend over the back of his couch? I thought that kind of thing only happened in porn.
"Do what I told you, Blue, or I'll go to my office and work on my British Literature essay." His firm tone tells me he's not making an idle threat. If he wants to play chicken, I'm sure to lose.
Even though I feel so insecure that I giggle nervously under my breath, I plant my knees on the couch cushions and lean over the back of the couch, perching my elbows on the back of the couch as I lean forward as far as I can. Miles' hands stay on my hips the whole time, guiding me to the angle he wants.
He drapes himself over my back, the warmth of his body cocooning mine as he slides his arms around me to squeeze my midsection. His lips move against the side of my neck.
" Oh, " I breathe out as he lightly grazes my neck with his teeth.
"I want to fuck you, Blue. I want to be inside of you so badly that I don't plan to have any self-control. I'm going to fuck you so hard that we'll be lucky not to tip the couch over. I'm going to hurt you but I'm also going to make you feel good. Do you understand?"
My brain stumbles to a screeching halt. What does a girl even say to a declaration like that? I latch onto the only safe topic I can come up with and breathlessly ask, "What about my coffee?"
I wish I could facepalm myself the second the words are out.
Miles nips at my neck again. "Forget the coffee," he murmurs, lips tickling me. "Give yourself to me, Blue. Tell me I can have you."
"You have me." My words are barely a whisper. " You have me ," I say again, louder this time. Much louder.
"That's right." Miles moves his hands up to cup my breasts, fingers toying with my nipples. "You're all mine. I'm going to show you what that means."
I gasp as he pinches my nipples between his fingers, tugging until there's a quick bite of pain before he releases me. I mourn the loss of him immediately as he stands up and backs away from me. He doesn't stay away long, just long enough for me to listen to the sounds of the last of his clothes coming off and the rustling of a wrapper.
When he steps forward, his cock notches against the curve where my butt and lower back meet. He's stiff and throbbing. I can vividly conjure up memories of his cock as he rubs against me, goosebumps rising to the surface on my arms.
Miles reaches around and cups his hand to the mound between my legs, his thumb brushing my smooth skin. I'm glad I'm shaved bare for him. The sensation of his skin directly on mine is so good that I whimper. I'm whining so much for him and he's barely touched me so far.
He remedies that as he plunges two fingers between my slit. "Fuck," he bites out the curse as his fingers slide easily through my wetness. "How are you this turned on already?" Before I have the chance to get self-conscious he adds, "That's so fucking sexy. You're so damn perfect."
I don't feel perfect.
I only feel utterly debauched as I gasp while Miles fingers me with an expert touch. If I only could ever have sex with this man's fingers, I think that alone could be enough to sustain me sexually for the rest of my life. He touches me better than I've ever managed to touch myself.
He reads me like a book. Even better, he reads me like a favorite book.
"I'm going to touch you like this for thirty more seconds," he growls out between clenched teeth, "and then you're going to come for me."
I open my mouth to tell him I'm not sure if I can but a moan escapes me instead. Hearing him take control even of my orgasm sets off something in me that I don't want to examine too closely. I like him commanding and bossy. He makes me feel safe enough to let go.
My orgasm hits just as he commanded it to, his fingers continuing to stroke inside of me as I tremble and struggle not to collapse over the back of the couch from the sensation.
"You're going to come again for me." He slips his hand from between my legs.
Moments later, I hear an unfamiliar sound and look back to see Miles sucking the same two fingers he just had inside of me. I gape at him as he holds eye contact with me all the while he cleans the taste of me off of his fingers.
I squirm, rubbing my thighs together. I don't think a second orgasm will take much.
"Are you ready for me, Blue?" He smacks my ass lightly, making me jerk in surprise.
All I can do is nod speechlessly as I face forward again, anticipation gnawing deep in my gut. Nothing else can quell the deep, unexplainable need I feel for him. I want him to touch me again, to be inside me again. I want to know if I imagined how good he felt the first time.
My breath catches when the head of his cock splits me open. His fingers dig into my hips as he lets out a guttural groan and hisses, " Fuck yes."
His body jerks, his cock leaping forward to claim me completely. I can feel the length of him pulse as he grinds against me, burying himself to the hilt before going still. For a second, he stays like that and I could swear I feel his heartbeat through his cock inside of me.
Tears spring to my eyes when he begins to withdraw before thrusting deep again. I'm surrounded by the smell of him. Filled with cock. Overwhelmed by the pleased sounds I'm not sure he knows he's making as he screws me over the couch.
The sounds are what finally get me. Between his groans and muttering the nickname he gave me, I fall apart around him. My body squeezes around his cock so tightly that he's forced to freeze where he is as I shudder, my body falling forward to let more of the couch support my weight.
Miles moves with me, patiently waiting until the moment my body relaxes its grip to resume his path to the finish line. He moves his hands to the back of the couch in our new position and uses it to get more leverage to pump into me with all of his strength.
I wince as my body flops like a rag doll between Miles and the couch but I like the way I'm tossed around as he moves inside me with reckless abandon. I like the way he seems out of control. The way he can't get enough.
I squeeze my eyes shut tightly when he groans, bottoming out as he comes, his cock jerking for a long time before he heaves a sigh and pulls out.
"Fucking hell, Blue."
Miles wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me briefly before dropping down on the couch with me. He nudges me to roll over onto my stomach on top of him and then pulls my head down to his chest. He strokes his fingers through my hair as he sucks in big gulps of air trying to catch his breath.
I wait until we're both breathing fairly normally before I shift my head to be able to look him in the eyes. His lips twitch at the corners as we make eye contact.
"I need to tell you something." I nibble my bottom lip nervously.
He frowns, his hand stilling in my hair. "What is it?"
"I still want that coffee," I admit sheepishly.
Miles throws his head back and laughs so hard his whole body shakes like an earthquake beneath me. Who would have thought the grumpy tutor would turn out to have a sense of humor?