Chapter 24 – Claire
TWENTY-FOUR
CLAIRE
I barely even get that final word out when his lips are on mine, and instantly, I know this is different. There’s no hesitation, no hint of should we be doing this . Just his lips on mine, my hands pulling him tighter so I can get him as close as feasibly possible.
One hand moves to my hip, tugging me in closer, and the other fumbles behind me on the doorknob, attempting to turn it as he continues to kiss me. I let out a giggle as the door opens, stumbling back, but he catches me, a similar smile on his own lips.
We move through the door, and as soon as we’re inside, he slams it closed with my back, pressing me there and grinding into me. My lips move to his neck as he locks the door behind us before the hand not holding my ass moves to my chin, redirecting me to his lips, where he kisses me again.
It’s heaven, and it’s heated, and it’s everything I knew this moment would be if we ever managed to finally get here. His lips start to move down my neck, the scrape of his mustache sending more heat ricocheting through me as he nips and sucks down the column of my neck. My fingers twine in his hair as he trails kisses down to my clavicle, his tongue running along the bone there.
“Miles,” I whisper, and I feel his smile against my skin more than I see it. “I need you.” He lets out a pleasure-filled breath, the heat of it coasting along my skin as his fingers play at the hem of my tank. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but I’ll take whatever he will give me.
He tugs the pretty tank top I wore on my date up, revealing my breasts in a bra, and he audibly groans, like the sight alone has done him in. It sends a rush of wet between my legs as his thick finger grazes along the seam of my bra, my breath hitching.
“Yes,” I whisper, afraid that if I speak anything else aloud, I’ll ruin the moment.
“So fucking pretty,” he groans, leaning forward from where he’s now on one knee to press a kiss to one swell.
“Do you want me to—” I’ll do anything right now if he takes this further. Absolutely anything .
“No, no. I’ve been dreaming about unwrapping you for years, Claire. Let me have this.” I can’t help but let out a small laugh at that, but it’s swallowed by a moan when he tugs one bra cup down and wraps his lips around my nipple.
He tongues the needy bud, and my chest arches into him, one of his hands going to the bare skin of my back to hold me there. His teeth graze along them before he pulls back, then sends a cool shot of air from parted lips to coast over the nipple.
“Oh, god,” I groan, my hand on the back of his neck moving to get him closer. A deep chuckle leaves his lips when he doesn’t budge.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he says low, almost as if he’s talking to himself.
“Miles,” I say, but his name gets caught in my throat when he moves to the next breast, pulling the cup down and sucking the nipple into his mouth in the same moment. “Ahh!” I pull his head further into me, and he bites down on my nipple, more wetness soaking my already ruined panties.
As he sucks, his hand moves up my calf to my inner thigh beneath my skirt. I attempt to subtly shift my legs wider, needing more, needing everything. He chuckles against my breast, and I groan at the vibration, my hips rocking forward to try and get some kind of relief.
His hand begins brushing along the sensitive skin of my upper thighs before his mouth shifts to the other nipple again. I let out a groan, and he looks up at me.
The man is smiling, clearly finding satisfaction in my frustration.
“What do you want, baby?”
“I want you to touch me.” I’ve never been coy about sex: why should I be? But whatever vein of bashfulness is out the window now: I’m certainly not going to be shy with the man I’ve been dreaming about for years.
“Like this?” he asks, thumb grazing slightly higher on my thigh, but still not where I want it. I shake my head, frustrated. He smiles. “Like this?” His voice is huskier now, as his thumb moves slightly inward, barely brushing a line across my underwear. I shake my head again, my breathing growing even more shallow.
His thumb grazes along the fabric over my swollen clit, and even though it’s a gentle graze—barely even a caress—I gasp before eagerly nodding.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“God, I can feel how wet you are for me already.”
“Please,” I beg.
His thumb presses a bit firmer this time, pressing along my soaked slit and then up to my clit. I groan, my hips bucking at the touch. His mouth descends on my nipple again, and I shriek as pleasure pulses through me.
But it’s not enough.
It’s so much, and it’s so good, but it’s not enough . He could do this all day, the most perfect torture, and it wouldn’t be enough: I wouldn’t fall. And somehow, I know he’d find joy in keeping me on this teetering edge all night.
“Miles, I need more,” I whisper.
His eyes look up and his mouth unlatches, and that smile appears again before he says, “Okay.”
And then he’s moving.
He’s pushing my skirt up my hips, and without even thinking, I grab eagerly at the hem to hold it in place as his fingers tuck under my underwear at my hips. He tugs them down, and a deep, satisfying groan leaves his lips when he sees me bared to him, a gleam in his eyes as his thumb traces the same path as before, but on heated skin.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh, but his face is so serious, it fades from my lips quickly.
“I told you I would get on my knees for you.”
“Oh.”
His thumb brushes over my clit, and I moan, my head hitting the wall with a light thud. He runs it back and forth, then in circles over my swollen clit before my hips chase more. I should have known this is how things would be, unending teasing and torture, because that’s us after all, isn’t it?
He slides his thumb into me, and all thoughts leave my mind. My pussy tightens around it as I let out a shocked gasp. Looking down at him, he’s smiling wide, taking in every response I give and finding pleasure in it. Then his head descends, his lips moving to my clit.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I say, and instantly, he stops, looking up at me. I quietly groan at how he looks on his knees before me, my fingers gripping my skirt.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” His face is a mask of panic, worried he’s overstepping.
I shake my head, a smile spreading over my lips. “Shirt off. The visual will be so much better.”
He stares at me for a long moment before he lets out a loud, deep laugh, and god, I hope it’s always like this with us: this ease, this chemistry. It’s a relief to see it still exists even like this.
He obliges, taking his shirt off in one smooth tug and tossing it to the ground. I groan when I see his toned and muscled shoulders I’ve daydreamed about far too many times.
“Better now?” he asks like I’m inconveniencing him, a hand moving to my calf to lift my leg to his shoulder so I’m spread before him.
“You can proceed,” I nod.
He laughs, and I smile, but it’s cut short by my moans when he does, in fact, proceed. He licks me from entrance to clit, wrapping his lips around my clit before he sucks.
“Oh, god.”
When he pulls back, his eyelids are drooped, his face enamored like he’s actually in some form of heaven.
“I’ve been such a fucking idiot, Claire,” he says against me, before he drags his flattened tongue up over my pussy, sending shockwaves through me. “Let me make it up to you.” A hand moves to my calf, gripping and lifting until my heel is resting on his shoulder, opening myself wide before his mouth moves back to me.
My hips start to gyrate in a rhythm of their own, as I try and get more from him, as a finger slides into me and he laps at my clit. I can feel the ball of tension, of all-consuming pleasure, swirling in my belly, folding in on itself and multiplying as he starts to suck on my clit, as he adds another finger inside me, curling them to press on the spot no one but myself has ever touched.
My eyes drift shut, the feeling too overwhelming, but just as I do, he pulls away, his fingers still fucking me.
“No, no,” he says, and when I open my eyes to look down at him, he’s looking at me intensely. “Eyes on me. I want to see you fall apart. Want you to watch me finally fucking worship this cunt.”
I tighten around the fingers buried in me at his words, and he feels it, his own eyes drifting shut as that brings him pleasure, too. Before I can say another thing, his mouth descends on me once more. Sucking on my clit, seemingly on a mission now, his eyes are locked on mine as I stare down my body at him. My orgasm builds back quickly, and I know I can’t put it off a moment longer, not even to bask in the beauty of him like this for another moment.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I grit out. When his teeth graze along my clit, I detonate, yelling as I do, and even though I want to let it wash away all of my senses, I keep my eyes locked on Miles as he finger fucks me and licks up every drop of my orgasm.
I’m still quaking as his fingers slip out of me, and I’m grateful when that hand moves to my waist to hold me steady, his wet fingers resting on my heated skin.
Slowly, he stands, eyes still on mine, adjusting his hard cock in his shorts. “Good?” I wipe my thumb along his mustache, the hair there wet with me. I moan at that, a thought I’ve had way too many times to be appropriate this summer, a fantasy I’m now living.
I shake my head at him.
“No?” he asks, confused.
“No, I need you to fuck me. Then I’ll be good.“
He smiles wider.
“God, you’re fucking perfect for me,” he says.
I barely have time to bask in the statement before his hands grip my ass and he lifts me. My skirt is still bunched at my waist, so I wrap my legs around him, my wet core pressed against his bare stomach, and we both groan at the way it feels. I just came, but somehow, the need to come again is almost worse.
It’s consuming everything, and this need to have him inside of me, fucking me, filling me with his cum…I need it.
My hands go around his neck, and he smiles, pressing his lips to mine again. Instantly, with the taste of me on his lips, my back arches into him, my arms pulling him tighter to me, my lips sucking at his. It’s feral and needy, and my hips rock against him with need.
“Your room or mine?” he pants when we manage to break the kiss, and I smile wide.
“Yours.” Miles wastes no time at all, climbing the stairs as I pepper kisses on every inch of his skin I can reach, my hands grazing up and down his back to memorize the muscles there, to feel his warm skin, and commit it to memory. Before I know it, we’re stepping through the entryway of his room, and he’s tossing me onto the bed. I undress quickly, tugging off my tank top and bra at the same time, then sliding off my skirt before lying back and watching him.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks, but I can’t really hear his words. Not as he’s sliding down his shorts and underwear in one smooth movement, leaving him naked before me and…
Oh. My. God.
I’ve seen Miles in low-slung shorts and even glimpses in his tight boxer briefs before, but I’ve never seen him like this.
He’s a fucking god. All sun-kissed skin and toned abs, shoulders so broad it almost feels comical, strong arms?—
“Claire,” he says, grabbing my attention.
I move my eyes from his long, thick cock and to his face, which is smiling with pride. “Huh?”
His smile spreads into a grin.
“Are you on the pill?” I have to work hard to understand the question before I nod. “I was tested six months ago,” he continues, “and everything came back normal. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
As if without meaning to, his hand moves to his cock, squeezing and stroking once, and my jaw drops. I want to watch that: him jacking off while watching me. My pussy clenches at the mental image I’ve made, filling in gaps and creating an entire scene ending in him coming on me, and I lick my lips.
“Claire,” he repeats, but there’s humor in the words. I move my gaze back to him with more difficulty this time. “Can I fuck you without a condom?”
That.
That’s what I want. That’s definitely what I want.
“I had my annual not too long ago. All clear.” I smile again and lose all pretense of looking at his face, going back to focus on his cock.
His hand is slowly pumping now, and my hand starts to creep between my legs, with a mind of its own. He lets out a deep, pained groan as he starts to move, his cock bobbing with each step he takes toward me until he’s standing at the foot of the bed. His hand pumps himself one last time; the tip is red and weeping with need before he puts a knee on the bed. I’m on one elbow, one hand gently playing between my legs as I watch him approach with heated anticipation.
“Lay back, baby,” he says softly as he climbs onto the bed, his body sliding over mine, and I do as he asks, dropping from my elbows, and then he’s face-to-face with me.
I expect the same frantic energy, the same intense need and desire. I expect him to push me back, to slam into me, to do…something.
But it all changes. The way he moves, that look in his eyes, the way his fingers graze along the skin of my arm. Gone is the frantic energy, the need, moving as if this would disappear in a moment, and in its place is…reverence.
Such sweet, all-consuming reverence and longing, it makes my heart skip a beat, makes my body shift softly toward him, my hand moving up to cup his jaw and look into his eyes.
Suddenly, it's me and Miles and nothing else. Gone are our history and location and bills and future. It’s just us, right here, right now. He notches the head of his thick cock into my entrance, and my eyes sink shut, my breathing turning labored with anticipation.
“No,” he says, low and gravelly. “No.” My eyes open, and his hand moves off the bed next to me and rests on my face as he holds himself up with just one strong arm. “You’re going to look at me the first time I sink into you.”
“Miles,” I moan, my hips shifting to get him deeper, to push him to fill me.
“The first time I give into this, when I finally admit to what you’ve known for some time, you’re going to watch it take over me. Watch me become yours, for good.”
“Miles,” I whisper again, this time without the irritated pleasure, instead filled with the understanding that Miles is mine . I fight the urge to cry, but that’s suddenly gone as he slides into me, as his thick shaft stretches me in the most perfect way, as inch by inch, he fills me.
Once he’s fully seated in me, he stops, his eyes still on mine and open and filled with everything I wanted to see a week ago. Everything I saw this morning, but he wouldn’t admit to. Desire and acceptance and friendship and a million other things I don’t have the time or presence of mind to identify.
“This changes everything,” I whisper because I won’t let him play with me that way. “This changes everything, Miles.”
“Good,” he says, then he pulls back, dragging along swollen and sensitive flesh before slamming back in. I moan loudly, a leg wrapping around his hips as he slides out again and thrusts back in. “I want it to.”
“Oh, god,” I breathe as his cock slides against sensitive nerves, sending a bolt of ecstasy straight to my core, that pleasure swirling as it does. It’s too much. It’s too good. It’s too consuming, I think it might break me. I hold on to his back, and he pounds into me, my nails biting as I try to hold onto reality.
“I know,” he says through gritted teeth. “Me too.”
Because he feels it too. That perfect rightness, the total and complete change, the knowledge that nothing will ever be this good, this right. This is me and Miles, and the rest will fall into place, so long as we have this.
Us.
“I’m going to come,” I murmur, a panic flitting over me at the thought. My breaths come in pants as my hips move up with each slam inward, and he adds a grind now, friction to my clit as he does.
“Good, take me with you, baby.”
I don’t know if it’s the permission or the acceptance or the mere thought that my orgasm will trigger one of his own, but with his words, my back bows, my cunt tightens around him, and my head falls back as I scream his name.
I come, and I come, and somewhere in my distant consciousness, I feel his body tighten, feel him go somehow deeper still, and feel him spill into me, groaning my name into my neck as he comes inside me.
And with it, I know I am ruined for any other man.