CHAPTER 28 Sophie Summers
Finish What You Started
Is it fake?
Is it real?
We’re teetering some line in between where we’re both scared to admit it’s more than something casual because of how that could impact the friendship that’s so important to both of us, but I think it’s safe to say there’s no going back to how things were before.
So for now…does it matter? Do we have to define it?
My heart doesn’t want to. My gut says we don’t. So I’m sticking with that.
For now.
I’m also sticking to the addiction that is Miller Banks. Good Lord, he’s good with his hands. His cock. His mouth. His body.
I want him in a way that terrifies me.
I want him now. I want him always. I want him any way I can get him, whether it’s his finger inside me under a table or up in our hotel suite.
I feel positively giddy that I just made him come the way I did under the table.
I got him so worked up that he came in his pants without my hand ever physically making contact with his cock, and I’ve never had that sort of power over someone before.
I was touching him, sure, but it felt like him getting me off was enough to get him off. How damn sexy is that?
Very. Incredibly. Ridiculously.
We sip our drinks and watch the dancers on the dance floor, and I turn toward him. “Do you want to dance?”
He glances down at the spot where I just had my hand on him, and he turns toward me. “I need to use the restroom first.”
I get his meaning, and honestly, I could use a clean-up myself—in particular since I’m not wearing panties. We finish our drinks, then head down the darkened hallway toward the restrooms. It’s crowded here—too crowded to sneak into a stall to have sex, that’s for sure.
I meet him back in the hallway, and he takes my hand and leads me toward the dance floor.
We’re smashed together in the crush of people, and I love it. I love being close to him. I love smelling his clean scent, and I love when he slides one of his legs between mine so I’m practically riding his leg.
I’m so hot for him that I’m certain I’m leaving a wet mark on his pants, but I’m beyond the point of caring. I feel his cock as it presses against my hip, and he’s hard again, which means he might even be ready to go again.
Suddenly the only thought in my mind is finding somewhere to have sex with him.
I lean forward and move my lips toward his ear. “I need you. Now.”
He glances around at the crush of people, and he grabs my hand and leads me back to our booth.
He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a condom, always prepared like the good boy he is, and he unbuttons his pants.
Our server comes over to ask if we want more drinks just as he’s about to pull his cock out, and we both know we need to say yes to keep our table.
“Another round,” he says, somehow composed despite the situation in which we find ourselves.
I glance down to see him sliding the condom on as the server walks away, and then he reaches for me.
“Sit on my lap.”
“Right here?” I squeak.
His eyes glint in the flash of light from the dance floor, and he doesn’t look like my Miller. He looks like this dangerous, sexy beast who probably has the ability to break my heart, but underneath all that, I know he won’t. It’s Miller.
He would never hurt me.
With that in mind, I climb over and sit on his lap as requested. He lifts my dress as I move into place, and he slides himself inside me.
Oh. My. God.
It’s that same full, beautiful feeling that I’ve already become hooked on, that same feeling of pleasure that makes me wonder how we lived without this for as long as we have.
He stills inside of me, careful not to move just yet as we look around to be sure nobody is watching us, trying to act casual like I’m not impaled by Miller Banks’s enormous cock right now.
I can’t act casual. Are you kidding me? He’s seated fully inside of me, neither of us moving, and it’s hot as hell.
And I feel him twitch inside me.
It’s nearly my total undoing—again. Already.
I moan as I shift over him, not meaning to but also sort of needing to, and he grips my hips to still me as the server drops off our drinks, barely giving us a second glance.
Does she know what we’re doing? Does she see this sort of thing all the time ?
“Fuck, you’re so tight over me,” he murmurs close to my ear after she leaves, and he reaches forward to pick up his drink.
He’s just casually drinking a Jack and Coke here in the club as his enormous dick fills me.
I pick up my drink, too, and my hands are shaking. He chuckles as he sees my trembling, and that’s when he starts to move. I slam my drink down a little harder than I mean to, and I grab onto the edge of the table for balance.
I’m lost to the world as he sets a slow, tender pace, and I close my eyes and lean my head back on his shoulder.
“Sit up,” he demands.
Oh, right. We’re not in the privacy of a home or hotel room, and I need to act like I’m not getting fucked under a table right now.
I sit up, and I’m still gripping the edge of the table. I’m not sure how we’re supposed to do this without being completely obvious since I can’t exactly bounce up and down over his dick, but he’s moving us slowly.
He reaches over my leg and brushes my clit with his fingertips, and God , it feels good. I groan, and he buries his face in the crook between my neck and my shoulder for a few beats as he shoves up into me and continues to finger my clit.
I start to unravel as he picks up the pace on my clit, and I let go of the table to grip onto his arms as the edges of a climax start to curl into me.
He pulls his fingers away from my clit as he feels me starting to get close, and I whimper over him as I lean back.
“Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“I know you are, and I’m saving that one for later,” he says. He still moves slowly inside of me, and the throbbing need to release pulses through me.
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss .
He chuckles as he lifts me off his lap. “Oh, this is going to be a fun little game.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “This is not a game. Finish what you started.”
His eyes gleam as they connect with mine. “Oh, I plan to. Believe me.”
I’m not sure what that means, but the anticipation of it rolls through me anyway.
He puts his cock away and chugs what’s left in his glass, and I follow suit.
He scoots out of the booth, his cock still wrapped in a condom in his pants, as he sets his hand out to help me out of the booth—ever the gentleman despite leaving me panting and breathless.
“Let’s get back to our room, shall we?” he suggests, and I take his hand and allow him to lead me through the club toward the exit and back to our hotel room.
The second the door is closed, he reaches into the front of my dress, takes one breast out, and latches his mouth onto it.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mutters against my skin, and then he lifts me and tosses me over his shoulder, carries me to the bed as I kick my legs and yell at him to put me down, and finally sets me down.
He pushes the bottom of my dress up around my hips, and he dives face-first into my pussy.
I wasn’t expecting that. I would’ve freshened up for him a bit first, but from the way he’s growling as he starts to lick through me, I guess he’s okay with whatever shape it’s in down there.
He sucks on my clit, the feel of his mouth sending shockwaves through me. I grip onto the breast that’s still hanging out with one hand in some attempt to give attention to more than one erogenous zone, and I clutch the sheets with the other .
His tongue starts to move in and out of me, and all I can think about is how his cock is still in a condom in his pants and how very badly I want it in my mouth.
But it’ll have to wait because my body tightens as the orgasm plows into me, as if I was so close back at the club and I stayed right there on the precipice waiting for him to take me over it.
My legs press together around his ears as my body unravels, and I grip onto my breast so hard that I’m likely going to have a bruise tomorrow, but I don’t feel the pain right now because of the pulse after pulse of pure pleasure he’s delivering courtesy of his very talented mouth.
The tremors start to slow as bliss plows into me, and my entire body relaxes as I let go of my own breast, the sheets, and the hold I have with my legs around his head until I’m lying flat on the bed.
“Do you need a minute?” His voice is soft a few moments later.
I’m in some orgasm coma, not really sure what he means by the question, and my answer is, “I only need you.”
He slams into me at my words nearly unexpectedly, and my eyes pop open as I feel him start to move. My body is still tight as hell after coming down from that climax, and he feels it.
“Fuck, yes, Soph, you’re so wet and tight for me,” he groans, and my body immediately warms to him even though I just had that brutal climax.
I feel like I can barely move, so I let him do the work.
He holds me still anyway as he pumps into me, thrust after delicious thrust. I’ve never had the kind of foreplay where he gets me off with his hand, and then his mouth a little while later, and then he fucks me, and it feels like our bodies were made for each other.
And it’s a powerful feeling as I listen to the grunts and groans that are getting him off, too—the ones that are bringing him into the same place of bliss where he just brought me. I feel myself being taken on yet another ride as he pushes my body to intense heights it has never been before.
He picks up the intensity of his drives as he pulls closer to his release, and when he hits his peak, he shoves in still harder as he murmurs my name over and over.
Heat spreads through me as the knowledge that my body did this to him takes hold of me, that our bodies together create this frenzy and this crazy connection I never expected in a million years.
He did indeed finish what he started back in that club, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this sexually satisfied in my entire life.
And yet he keeps proving to me time and again that he can take me one step further into the land of bliss.