Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
MIRANDA
Standing in the foyer, he brushes his thumb along my lower lip before he kisses me—slowly, deeply, with a seductive sweetness that steals my breath.
His mouth moves against mine like he’s pouring every unspoken feeling into the kiss.
By the time he pulls back, with barely an inch separating us, I’m trembling, unable to form a single word.
Miles just smiles, like he knows exactly what he’s done to me.
I roll up onto my toes, desperate to feel his mouth on mine again.
Miles cups my face in both hands and crashes his mouth against mine with a heat that steals every ounce of air from my lungs.
There’s nothing soft or hesitant about it—this kiss is fire and urgency and every feeling we’ve been holding between us.
His lips move over mine with fierce, consuming need, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my whole body tremble.
I clutch at his shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him as his kiss grows deeper, hotter.
He tilts my head and devours me, kissing me like he’s been waiting his whole life to taste me—like he’s afraid to ever stop.
A low, hungry sound rumbles from his chest, and the vibration sends sparks racing down my spine.
My knees weaken. My breath stutters. And still, Miles kisses me harder, fuller, until I’m drowning in him—his scent, his hands, his mouth claiming mine like a promise.
I’m lost in the kiss. My body bursts with love, need, and indescribable happiness. Miles pulls away, leaving me panting and aching for more. I’m flushed, breathless, and completely undone.
“We should shower,” he says, though the words hold no urgency.
“I don’t care.” I cradle his face in my hands and pull his mouth back down to mine.
“I’m sweaty,” he manages between kisses.
“So am I,” I whisper, my tongue slipping eagerly into his mouth again.
I’m not waiting another second.
He groans—low, rough, hungry—and presses me back against the wall of the foyer. Our lips part only long enough to strip away our clothes, and then they’re fused again, hot skin meeting hot skin in a desperate slide.
My hands roam greedily over his body while his leave trails of fire along mine. When his hand dips between my thighs and two fingers slip inside me, my head hits the wall with a gasp.
“Miles,” I choke out.
He’s everything.
Every ounce of gratitude I felt today revolves around him.
His fingers move with devastating purpose as his mouth works along my neck, sucking and tasting. I can only clutch at his shoulders, panting, riding the wave he’s building inside me.
Then his fingers and lips leave me at once, and I whimper at the loss.
Miles drops to his knees and lifts one of my legs over his shoulder. A ragged moan rips out of me the moment his mouth finds me, his tongue circling exactly where I need him most.
“Oh, yes,” I cry, fingers sliding into his hair. “Please don’t stop.”
Colors burst behind my closed eyes as he adds two fingers, stroking the front wall in a firm, relentless rhythm while his tongue flicks in an agonizing tempo. I’m undone—I fall into that place where thought no longer exists, only raw need and unrestrained pleasure.
I scream as my body convulses. I’m barely aware of Miles pressing a steadying hand against my chest, pinning me to the wall so I don’t collapse.
My trembling slows as his tongue eases, leaving me breathing hard, flushed, and deliciously wrecked.
Miles’s hands slide beneath my ass, lifting me effortlessly. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around him just as he thrusts into me—hard, deep, perfect. My back thumps gently against the wall in a rhythm that's just on the edge of uncomfortable yet feels unbelievably good.
I’m limp with pleasure, every muscle boneless, but I feel him everywhere—his grunts, the heat of his breath against my neck, the slick glide of his skin beneath my hands. I cling to him as the world narrows to nothing but him.
The connection Miles and I share is so intense it’s addictive. I’m chasing my next release even as I know—when it hits, I’ll crave another.
Miles drives into me harder, faster. His groans deepen, and the intensity sends me crashing over the edge again. He follows right behind me, shuddering as he releases, the sound of it drawing out my own climax.
We cling to each other, two sweaty, trembling bodies struggling for breath in the aftermath. He keeps holding me, my legs still wrapped around him, my back pressed to the wall.
When I finally open my eyes, I find Miles looking at me like I’m something unreal.
“I love you, Miranda Sinclair,” he says on a breathless, elated sigh.
“I love you, Miles Keller.”
He kisses me softly—slow, sweet, full of everything we didn’t say.
Here, wrapped in his arms, kissing him breathless, I know one truth with absolute certainty—I never want to be anywhere else but here, loving him back.