Chapter 19-Sloane
Oh my God.
Micah is good at this. Too good.
But he’s not just going through the motions of sex.
I know it sounds foolish, but I can tell. It’s like he sees me as more than his equal. Like he’s placed me above him and all he wants is to cater to my needs and desires.
Fuck.
No one has ever done that.
And it’s so damn sexy. I feel his fingers spreading me, spearing me as he sucks and licks and eats my pussy.
Not just eats.
Micah is feasting on me.
In every sense of the word.
And I might just die from it.
But I don't.
Not exactly.
I've heard an orgasm was called la petite mort—the little death.
I'd always thought it was just another one of those overly dramatic French expressions people used to make sex sound more poetic than it really was.
I get it now.
I finally understand.
“Oh God, I’m coming,” I shout as pure pleasure spikes through me.
Micah groans, his tongue swirling around my clit like it’s his new favorite obsession.
He’s relentless in his pursuit of my pleasure—and I am so fucking here for it.
My orgasm rolls through me like an avalanche cascading down a hillside.
Unstoppable.
Fierce.
Earth shattering.
His arms tighten around my hips, and I wonder if I might actually be killing him in the moment.
But I can’t stop this.
I can’t even speak.
All I can do is feel.
No one has ever made me feel like this.
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
Completely.
It's like every wall I've spent years building around my heart is crumbling, brick by brick, until there's nothing left between us.
Only trust.
Only longing.
Only us.
Every insecurity I've ever carried.
Every cruel word I've ever repeated to myself while staring into a mirror.
Every moment I've wondered if I was too much or not enough.
Micah somehow silences all of it without saying a word.
The way he looks at me...
The way he touches me...
The way he seems utterly captivated by every inch of me...
It makes me feel beautiful in a way I didn't know was possible.
Not beautiful because I changed myself.
Beautiful because I'm simply me.
My fingers disappear into his hair as I cling to him, needing something solid to anchor me because everything else feels like it's floating away.
He makes me feel treasured.
Desired.
Cherished.
Like I'm the only woman in the world.
Tears sting unexpectedly behind my closed eyes.
Not because I'm sad.
Because I'm overwhelmed.
Because I don't know if anyone has ever loved me with this much intention before.
Not just wanting my body.
Wanting me.
The whole complicated, curvy, stubborn, hopeful mess of me.
I never knew love could feel this consuming.
This safe.
This overwhelming.
This right.
And somewhere through the haze of emotion, one thought rises above all the others.
I don't think I'm falling for Micah anymore.
I think I already have.
“I need you inside me, Micah, right now.”
“Fuck, yes,” he replies and loosens his hold.
I scramble off his face and push his jeans down.
They’re already open and I freeze because—holy fuck—while he’s been eating me out, this sexy as fuck cowboy has been stroking his big, beautiful cock.
“Were you—were you touching yourself?” I ask.
His blue eyes are blazing as he licks his lips and nods.
“Yeah, Princess, I was touching myself. You got me so fucking hot for you.”
Moisture floods between my legs, and I swallow.
“Is that okay?” Micah asks, head tilted, and oh my God, I think he’s serious.
“Yes,” I reply. “That’s okay, but next time, I want you to show me.”
He nods, and sits up, helping me push his jeans all the way off. Then he takes my hand and puts it right on his hard cock.
“Anything you want, you can have.”
I swear that’s the moment something inside my chest tears wide open. It’s like all my inhibitions, all my fears and doubts just get tossed out.
And the only things left are desire, passion, and need—for him.
There’s something else—something that feels a lot like love, but I don’t want to think about that now.
I want to focus on what’s happening here.
So I do.
I look at him—at Micah.
God, he’s so hot.
His lips are parted, and he’s panting while I run my fingers up and down his thick shaft.
“Feel that? It’s all for you, Princess,” he groans as I squeeze him with both hands now.
“Good,” I reply, and straddle his hips.
I place his broad head at my entrance. Then I sink down in one hard motion.
We both groan.
He’s so big.
I can feel him stretching me, and it burns.
But it feels so good I don’t stop, I don’t wait.
I move.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his voice low and gravelly.
His pupils are blown as I rock my hips, taking him deeper into myself. He’s so thick and warm, I feel pressure and a fullness I’ve only ever read about.
He reaches for me and sucks my nipple into his mouth hard while I clutch at his hair.
Then I start to ride.
Micah flexes his hips, rubbing against my sensitive clit with every thrust and it’s so good.
Pressure builds fast. And thank God, he’s right there with me.
“That’s it, Princess. Show me what you got,” he growls against my breast.
I pull on his hair, yanking his face to mine, and I slam my lips to his. Our tongues dance together, and we kiss until we’re not kissing at all anymore.
It’s like our lips and tongues are just touching. Like we need to maintain contact, even if all we can do is just exist in the moment.
We’re breathing one another’s air.
And it feels so intimate.
So dirty.
So hot.
And I fucking love it.
We’re both vulnerable like this.
Both open and unguarded.
And it is so completely unlike anything I've ever shared with another person.
For years I'd convinced myself that chemistry was all there was—that attraction was attraction, and everything else came later if it came at all.
I was wrong.
This isn't just desire.
It's more.
It’s trust. Affection. Emotions I refuse to name right now.
Every time Micah looks at me, he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the room.
Not because I'm perfect, but because, somehow, I'm perfect to him. Every insecurity I've carried for years seems to fall away beneath that steady blue gaze of his.
I never knew being wanted could feel this safe.
I never knew giving someone my trust could feel this freeing.
Sweat coats our bodies, and the smell of sex fills the air. I've never done anything like this. Never felt so uninhibited with another person.
Somewhere along the way, this stopped being about proving I was desirable. It stopped being about the fear of tomorrow or everything that almost happened tonight.
Micah groans, and the sound pulls me back into the moment.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good, Princess. So damn good.”
When he says my nickname, it doesn't sound corny.
It sounds like home.
And for the first time in a very long time, I realize I'm not waiting for this moment to end.
I'm hoping it's only the beginning.
“Hold on,” he commands, and I do, just in time for him to flip our positions.
My back lands on the sofa and Micah hooks his arms around my legs, spreading me wider.
“You’ve ruined me. Fuck. It’s so good. Tell me, Princess, are you close?”
My whole body is trembling as I dance along that pinnacle, and Micah sees it.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. But he doesn’t flaunt it. he doesn’t tease me.
He wants my release like it’s his own.
So I nod because why deny it?
“Yes, I’m close!”
“Good girl,” he growls, and I swear it’s like a lightning bolt zips down my body strait to my throbbing clit. “Now, I want you to tell me you’re mine when you’re coming on my cock. Will you do that, Princess?”
His thrusts are long and hard, then they turn shallow, insistent.
I swear I feel every vein, every ridge of him as he grinds into me just right.
I can’t breathe much less answer him.
“Oh, God, Micah!” I scream his name as the first wave of pleasure takes hold.
“Tell me,” he demands.
And I do.
I tell him.
“I’m yours, Micah. Yours!.”
“That’s right. You’re mine. And I’m yours, Princess,” he groans as he starts to come. “I’m all fucking yours.”