Chapter 28 Gwen - Oh, so this is what it’s supposed to feel like
Ladybug slinks in between both of our legs as we enter the apartment.
“Hey, cutie boy,” I coo.
Miller scoops him up, holding him close to his chest while he rubs behind one of Ladybug’s ears, just like he does every time he comes home.
For as much grumbling that this guy did about taking in a kitten, he sure has warmed up speedy fucking quick.
Ladybug climbs up Miller’s shoulder to rest his little body around his neck. Two peas in a pod.
I kick off my heeled boots and line them up next to Miller’s, silently admiring how they look together, alongside a pair of Penelope’s rain boots. After hanging my purse on the coat rack, I nuzzle my face into Ladybug’s in greeting.
“I think I want to shower,” I tell Miller.
“Am I invited?” he asks.
I make my way to the bathroom and say nothing until I stop in the doorway and look back at him over my shoulder. “Silly question, Miller baby.”
His eyes go wide, and he pries poor Ladybug off his back without a second thought, gently plopping him back down on the ground. “Scram, kid.”
A giggle escapes my lips as I turn the knob in the shower to the hottest setting.
I tried to make it sound sexy inviting Miller in here with me, but the horny part of my brain must have forgotten how ridiculously small this stand-up shower is.
Whatever, a quick rinse off in small quarters with Miller Caswell isn’t something I’d ever find myself complaining about.
After stripping off my dress and ankle socks, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my thong to drag it down to the floor, and step into the stream of scalding hot water. I savor it until Miller joins me when I adjust the temperature down a few degrees.
Miller steps in behind me and his hand moves my hair to hang over one shoulder. His lips find the side of my exposed neck.
“That dress drove me fucking crazy all night,” he whispers into my skin.
“Good. That’s the whole reason I wore it.” I bring my hand up to entwine my fingers in his hair.
“I wanted to be the one to take it off.”
“There’s always next time,” I say in a sing-song voice.
“Oof, I love the sound of next time,” he says before nipping at my neck again.
I twist to face Miller, and we’re a mess of hands and kisses and moans.
There’s absolutely no point to this shower aside from getting as close to each other as possible.
I can’t get enough. I pull him towards me even though there’s nowhere for him to go.
When Miller isn’t gripping my ass, his fingers are grazing my spine.
“I need to lay you down, Gwen. I need to be inside you. I’m desperate. I’ll do anything.”
I toss my head back, and Miller’s mouth envelops my left breast. After flicking at my sensitive nipple until I cry out, he looks up at me.
“Please,” he begs.
He. Begs.
That one word sends my body and my brain into overdrive.
I smash my fist down on the handle, turning the water off abruptly.
I take in his face, my fingers outlining that perfectly sculpted jaw I love so much, and bring it to my own face.
Miller catches what I’m trying to put down and lifts me until my legs wrap around his waist.
His hard cock presses into my stomach. Anticipation pools low in me. I’ve had Miller in my mouth and my hand. His tongue has explored just about every inch of me. In a way, it feels like we’ve been building up to this for forever.
Apparently, we’re forgoing the need for towels. Miller walks us, sopping wet, out of the bathroom into his bedroom, the bedroom that’s basically been taken over by me this past week.
He tosses me onto the bed and falls over me, one hand on the mattress holding him up, one hand roaming my body. He parts my thighs. He licks a trail between my breasts and then takes his time swirling his tongue around each pierced nipple.
“Still fucking love these,” he murmurs.
I lose control of my body and find my hand pressing his head down as I moan.
“You want me to eat your pussy, Gwennie?” Miller asks with devil eyes looking up at me.
Since fucking when does this guy know how to use his words like this? Since when do I not have words to form? I manage to nod, and he grins before fucking devouring me.
“Oh my God,” I breathe as Miller finds my clit with ease.
For someone who said he didn’t know what he was doing, he sure knows how to keep tempo or pace or whatever the fuck it’s called to get me to the edge faster than any toy I’ve ever used.
When he inserts a finger, then two, into me, my back arches. He sucks and flicks with his tongue and fucks me with his fingers until I’m coming. I pull at his perfect curls and try to catch my breath as I try to regain my senses.
“That’s one,” Miller says with a grin.
“One?” I ask.
He crawls up my body and kisses me so I taste my release. His voice is like gravel. “I have tonight to hear you scream. I plan on listening to the sweet sound of you coming plenty more than once. So, yeah, that was one.”
“Who even are you?”
“Yours.”
“Mine.” I cup the side of his cheek. We have a silent conversation, exchanged only between our eyes, and when he kisses me, I get the very distinct feeling that I’ll never believe in a world worth living in again without Miller Caswell.
“I brought condoms,” I blurt out. “All kinds of them! Flavored, ripped, magnum, sheepskin—because I realized I didn’t know if you had a latex allergy?
I even grabbed one of those warming ones, but to be honest, that kind of freaks me out.
So, unless you’re really interested in trying that out, I’m respectfully asking to pass. ”
I tap Miller so he’ll let me sit up and reach over to the bag I left stashed in the nightstand. “I came prepared.”
“Jeez, Gwen. Did you raid the sex shop?” Miller asks nervously, eyes wide and fixed on the plastic bag in front of him.
“No! Well, yes. But it was online. I just—I wanted you to be comfortable. I’m on the pill. I take it every single day at the same time for maximum effectiveness. But I also know that no birth control is one hundred percent, you know? This way, you hopefully don’t have to worry.”
“You’re too good for this world, Gwendolyn.” His praise washes over me.
Miller sifts through the bag of foiled rubber I just threw at him until he finds one that catches his eye. He tosses the bag back on the floor. I watch, propped up on my elbows with parted lips, as he silently tears at the wrapper and rolls the condom onto himself.
He falls over me again, and my head crashes into the pillow. My hands find his shoulders, arms, hands. I want him everywhere all at once. I want to be wholly consumed by Miller.
I think I already am, though.
“You’re okay?” I ask.
“I’m about to be more than fucking okay, Gwendolyn.”
He notches his cock at my entrance and while his tongue plays with mine, I feel him sink every single individual inch inside of me.
When he moans into my mouth, goosebumps break out over my entire body.
I feel whole in a way I haven’t in a long time.
Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I ever have.
“I need a minute,” he pants.
I try my fucking hardest not to wiggle under him, but I feel so full and the pressure keeps building. “Miller, you feel—”
“Don’t tell me how good I feel right now. I’m holding on by a fucking thread here—”
I lift my hips, somehow pulling his cock in even deeper. I want him wild and unhinged.
“Oh my fuck,” Miller sighs. His hands grab hold of my knees, spreading me wide. We both look down where our bodies connect, and he drives into me over and over.
I feel my pussy flexing around him, squeezing his cock. The rhythm Miller has going right now is bringing me towards the ledge I love to swan dive right off of when I’m with him.
“You’re fucking me so good, Miller. It’s so good. It’s so good,” I repeat.
“Gwen, holy shit,” he pants, but he doesn’t slow down. “I wanted to make this last, I wanted this to be—”
“Come inside me, Miller baby. Please.”
His mouth finds mine again, and when he shudders with my name on his lips, it triggers my second orgasm of the night.
Miller kisses the side of my face, my neck, my shoulders, each breast. With each peck, another phrase of praise falls out of him. I’m beautiful, I’m perfect, I’m incredible.
He doesn’t stop until I start to really believe him. When he slips out of me, I feel the loss immediately. I’m emotional in ways I didn’t expect. I don’t know why but I think—
“Hey, are you crying?” he asks softly. There’s no judgment, just total concern. Miller’s thumb swipes a tear from my cheek.
“I don’t know…I mean…That’s never happened. It’s never felt like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like it wasn’t just sex,” I say it so quietly, I don’t think he heard me.
Miller brushes back my wet hair and looks so deeply into my eyes.
“Because it wasn’t, Gwendolyn. Come on.”
He pulls me up, grasping my hand and refusing to let go as he leads me back into the bathroom. He discards the condom and restarts the shower. He holds me in the stream of hot water and wraps me in the fluffiest towel he can find when we’re done.
He doesn’t elaborate, and he doesn’t ask me to explain any more about where I’m at in my head. He chooses actions over words, and I feel a sense of calm wash over me.
Once he changes the sheets to warm, dry ones, we crawl back into the bed, bodies pressed together as one again. My eyelids feel heavy, and I know when I wake up, I’ll be mad at myself for missing out on a wild night of uninterrupted sex with Miller.
I don’t linger on that thought, though. Instead I drift off to sleep in Miller’s arms, and I imagine him kissing me on the top of my head, whispering I love you.
Except there’s a part of me that wonders if I didn’t imagine it at all.