Seven #4
“Mm, sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I said on a groan and thrust back in hard, his reaction to this sudden resumption everything I’d hoped.
He arched up with a ragged gasp like I’d split him open, revealing the raw Miles beneath. “Oh my god,” he cried, fingertips digging into my shoulders. “Yes! Fuck me, Mat. Fuck me!”
My name on his lips sent me close to the edge all too fast. God only knew how long I had really wanted this.
Wanted him.
Tightening my hold on his cock, I pounded him and stroked him and pushed him back toward climax as fast as I could.
He managed no more coherent words, only desperate sounds as he turned his head away.
Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, his whole body tensed and he parted his lips in a soundless cry.
A few more thrusts and he came onto his stomach, sound finally breaking through in a crackling groan that was half relief, half lamentation, and everything I needed to hear.
I leaned forward, giving in to the urge to kiss him as I relaxed and let everything overwhelm me – the situation, the sensation, the very fact it was him tightening around my cock, drawing from me the biggest orgasm I’d had for quite some time.
Able only to feel for a few long seconds, I groaned and shud-dered into the lingering tail of our kiss.
Then, when I could finally achieve words, I said, “Far out, that was amazing,” and propped myself up with a hand either side of his shoulders.
Only to find him staring at me, a hint of shock in the way he’d stilled.
I dragged in a shallow, tight breath, like the whole room had suddenly shrunk to the size of my rib cage. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, only that I needed to move, needed to speak, needed to break the tension and save us both.
“Miles Callahan,” I said with a forced laugh. “Not a sausage blocker after all.”
“Oh my god, get off.”
He shoved me unceremoniously away and I slipped out, leaving cum leaking onto my bedcovers from Miles Callahan’s glorious arse.
Perhaps the sight ought to have been incongruous, this gorgeous model of a tennis millionaire lying on my bed thoroughly bred, but if I’d learned anything in the last few days it was that, beneath all that, he was also just a man.
A man whose physical desires could be rough and messy just like any other.
Though the mess didn’t seem to be troubling him, he looked around in search of something to clean himself up. Still kneeling beneath his legs, I leaned over to snatch up the tissue box.
“While that was extremely hot,” he said, ripping out a couple of tissues. “There’s no way we’re going again in ten minutes.”
“No?” I watched him wipe himself clean like it was fresh foreplay. “That’s disappointing.”
“Fuck you!” he laughed, pushing me over with his foot as he disentangled himself from my legs. “I played a match earlier, then faced the media, then dealt with your damned crisis, so the only way I’m going again is if you let me sleep eight hours first. Maybe ten.”
As he got to his feet, I dropped onto my pillows to watch him, hands folded behind my head. “If you insist.”
“I’m going to be lucky if I even make it through a shower without falling asleep.
” Miles dropped the tissues in the bin and scooped up his clothes, turning back to find me watching appreciatively.
His gaze slipped to the floor – a sudden shyness that seemed out of place.
“I need to go,” he said. “But Mat . . .” He paused, uneasiness creeping into his posture, into the slight hunching of his shoulders and the way he clutched his clothes close.
“You can’t tell anyone about this, right? ”
It had been a long time since I’d had to hide anything, and the return of those old, familiar worries tasted sour in the wake of all the rest. Not that it was a surprising request in the circumstances.
“Of course not,” I said, forcing a smile. “Who would even believe me?”
He didn’t smile back, didn’t speak, just lingered like he want-ed further reassurance but dared not ask.
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Miles, I promise.” I sighed. “Although, if we’re still doing this by the time Katie gets here, she might notice.”
“Yeah, probably. Would that . . . be all right?”
“If you mean can you trust her, then yes.”
“Right. Thanks.” He pulled on his shorts, and not bothering with his shirt, pressed out a flat smile. “I’d better go.”
“Hey.” I hauled myself off the bed. As I approached, he leaned back against the wall like he wanted to escape, leaving us the same height – a height from which he watched me warily as I planted myself naked before him.
“We’re good,” I said, gently taking hold of his chin and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Go sleep.”
A hint of his earlier shock flickered across his face, but he nodded. Shrugged. Managed a smile. “Yeah, I will. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Miles departed without a backward glance, and when the apartment door closed behind him, I blew out a heavy breath. Of course he was worried about secrecy. The only real surprise was that he’d waited so long to ask.