27. Miles #2
A few more minutes passed in the quiet before I asked, “Do you think I’m fighting something hopeless?”
She paused, her fingers going still at the top of my scalp.
“What do you mean?”
“With Whitmore Ventures. With trying to bring it back. Sometimes it feels like I’m just rebuilding something that’s meant to stay broken.”
Serena didn’t answer right away. She finished the braid she was working on, sealed the end, and leaned forward just enough that I could feel the heat of her chest brush my back.
“What do you want?”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
Serena parted another section. “You know the answer, Miles. You don’t need to ask me. What does your gut say?”
Leave.
The silence stretched, and she finished my hair quickly.
She completed the last braid and let her fingers rest against my scalp.
“There,” she murmured. “All done.”
I didn’t want to move—didn’t want to lose that weight, that warmth.
But eventually, I sat up slow, rolling my shoulders as I stretched. I ate a bit of my food. She gathered the comb and product, but instead of walking away, she placed them aside and slid onto the couch next to me.
I turned to look at her.
And damn.
She was watching the screen, pretending she didn’t feel my eyes on her—but I saw the soft curve of her lip, the way she sat with one leg tucked under the other, her thigh brushing mine.
I was tired, sore, full—and still, I wanted her.
Bad.
She glanced over, and her brow lifted just slightly.
I didn’t hide it. I let her see exactly what I was thinking.
Then she surprised me.
Without a word, Serena stood, and slowly sank down onto the rug between my legs. The move was fluid, deliberate, and when she looked up at me, I saw the heat in her eyes…but also something else—curiosity, maybe even nerves.
My breath hitched.
“Serena,” I said low, a warning and a prayer.
She placed her palms gently on my thighs, her thumbs moving in slow, absent circles over the fabric of my sweatpants.
“I wanted to try something,” she said softly, her gaze flicking up to meet mine. “Just to see if I could still do it.”
I stared at her, heart pounding, completely still—like if I moved too fast, the moment might disappear.
Her fingers found the waistband of my sweats, and she tugged—slow, unhurried, like she had all the time in the world. My body lifted for her on instinct. I couldn’t look away.
She dragged the fabric down my hips, past my thighs, until I was bare beneath her gaze. My chest rose as I exhaled, tension tightening across my shoulders.
When she wrapped her hand around my dick, I hissed between my teeth. I was already leaking, and she didn’t waste a drop of it—slapping the head on her tongue, her eyes fluttering closed like she’d missed the taste of me.
“Baby—damn,” I groaned, my stomach caving in when I hit the back of her throat.
But what undid me wasn’t just her mouth. It was the feeling underneath it.
Her hands on my thighs, grounding me. Her rhythm—slow, savoring—like I wasn’t a man to just take, but something to be remembered. She knew me. Knew how I liked it, knew where I tensed, what made me crumble.
“Sunny… Shit, take your time with it, Ma. It ain’t goin’ nowhere.” My voice was a rasp, my hips pumping steadily. My breath stuttered as my head dropped back against the couch, vision blurring for a second.
One hand cupped my balls, working them with slow, gentle rolls that had my spine tightening. My chest rose and plummeted, breath shallow, heart thudding.
By now, her nose was smashed into my pubic hair, taking every inch like she was starving for it.
My dick was drenched in her mouth, slick and noisy with every wet plunge into her throat.
The sounds—those fucking sounds—were sinful, like she didn’t care how messy or deep it got, only that I felt everything.
My hands fisted the couch cushions as a warning crept up my spine—tight, hot, impossible to ignore. Her cheeks hollowed as she took me deeper and sucked hard just like I loved. Focusing mostly on the tip because she knew what that would do to me.
“Ma… baby, I’m—” My words dissolved into a groan, deep and broken, as my hips bucked and my release hit fast and hard.
I spilled down her throat, my whole body bowing, locked in the heat of it. My muscles jerked, trembling from the pressure, and she didn’t flinch—not once. She took it, all of it, swallowing like she wanted it, her hands still firm on me, like she was anchoring me in the storm she’d created.
And fuck, if that didn’t undo me all over again.
I blinked hard, breath jagged, vision blurry with the aftermath—but even through the haze, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her lips were swollen, glistening, eyes flicking up to meet mine with a quiet defiance, like Yeah, I still got it.
I reached for her without thinking.
Got her off the floor, hands firm beneath her arms as I pulled her up into a kiss—deep and messy, tasting myself on her tongue, not caring. I turned her, pressing her into the couch face-first, her knees hitting the cushions, her spine arching just the way I liked it.
“You know what you do to me, Serena?” I rasped, voice low, rough as gravel against her skin. “You fucking know ?”
My hands gripped her hips, dragging her ass back against me. She gasped—half challenge, half surrender. I was still hard, still pulsing, already aching to be inside her again.
“You take me apart,” I muttered, guiding my length between her thighs, pulling down her panties and sliding against that slick heat. “And I love it.”
I didn’t wait. I pushed into her slow but deep, watching her crumble as I filled her. Her fingers clawed at the cushions, her breath hitched.
I braced my weight in my palms, pinning her hips where I needed them, grinding into her with a roll so deep it dragged a sob from her throat. I moved like I owned her—but fuck, she owned me just as much. My hips clapped against her ass, each stroke deliberate, dragging out her moans, feeding mine.
“Fuck, Serena,” I gritted through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down my back. “You feel so good… Always—always so fuckin’ good to me.”
I bent lower, my chest over her back, lips against her spine.
“I don’t want this to be a deal anymore,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “Not just a fuckin’ arrangement. Not when I feel like this. Not when it’s you. ”
Her body trembled, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
“I want you to want me back, Serena,” I murmured, dragging my hand up her belly to palm her breast, holding her to me while I drove into her slow and deep. “Not because you have to. Because you want to. Because we could make this real.”
My rhythm stuttered, hips faltering as the weight of it hit me full force. I love her. Not just the way her body felt— her . All her sharp edges, her fire, her silence, her ambition. The way she’s still here, letting me in.
And for the first time in a long fucking time, I didn’t feel alone.
“Fuck! Fuck, fu— Miles !” Serena gripped one of the pillows close as she gasped and I saw her eyes flicker white like the damn exorcist. Her body quaked beneath me, skin flushed and slick, and that sweet little pussy kept sucking me in, like it never wanted to let go.
But I wasn’t done.
Not when this meant something. Not when she meant something.
Her arms went limp, but I wasn’t letting her go. I folded her wrists behind her back, locking her in, my fingers wrapped tight so she had no choice but to take every pounding inch of me.
“You said you could handle me,” I growled against her shoulder. “So take it, baby. Take all of me.”
I gripped her hair and yanked her head up, turning her face toward mine.
And fuck, she was wrecked.
Eyes half-lidded, mouth swollen and open, breath stuttering like she didn’t even know where she was anymore. But her body? Her body knew exactly where it wanted to be— with me.
I kissed her hard, no finesse left. Just need. Just truth.
Teeth clashing, tongues sliding, lips bruising. I kissed her like I was trying to brand her, to make her feel what I couldn’t say.
I couldn’t say the words, but I poured them into her mouth. I love you. I want you. I need this.
All of it.
Her ass bounced with every thrust, slapping against my thighs, and her pussy? God— melting. Dripping. Sucking me in like I belonged there.
“Fuck, Serena,” I hissed, jaw clenched, breath ragged as I watched us move. My dick slid in and out of her slick heat, covered in the creamy mess she left behind. “You creamin’ all over me, baby. Fuck—look at that. You want me to cum inside you? I’ll get you a pill.”
She whimpered, nodding, pleading, “Please, Miles. Please, please, please?—”
That was all I needed.
My hands locked around her waist, holding her up, keeping her where I needed her as my hips slammed into her, hard, desperate, possessive. I grunted her name as I came, spilling deep inside, grinding through it like I could give her more. Like I could make her feel everything I couldn’t say.
We just stayed there, sinking into the couch. Both of us breathless, her ass still pressed to my stomach, my hands smoothing over her skin, gripping her thighs, then her back, needing to touch something real— her.
I gave her one more smack—slow this time—then pressed a soft kiss to her temple, my voice a low rumble, “Good shit, baby. So good.”
I stayed inside her for a moment longer, like I was afraid if I pulled out, I’d forget how this felt. She shifted just slightly, like she was going to speak. I held my breath, but nothing came.
“I love you, Sunny.”