Chapter 33 – Claire
THIRTY-THREE
CLAIRE
The buzz from the few drinks I had at the bar only adds to the pleasure coursing through me as Miles fingers me.
His fingers pump into me as he hovers over me, and I’ve never been happier to be in a hotel room than right now as I moan out loud. Even though my parents repeatedly told us it was silly to stay in a hotel room for one night when my childhood bedroom was free, we did anyway for this exact reason.
Before I hit the edge I’m building toward, Miles pulls his fingers out, and I watch with misery, lust, and a little bit of awe as he puts them into his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.
“Yeah, I’ve gotta eat that clean,” he mumbles to himself before he moves to his back next to me. He then rolls me over, shifting and positioning me to my knees, until I’m straddling his face. Instinctually, my hands move to the headboard behind us, gripping it for stability, then looking down my body at Miles before I groan.
The image could be hung in museums. His face framed by my thighs, his eyes heated with lust, lips tipped in the hottest smirk known to man…it’s a masterpiece. And then his hands go to my hips, thumbs against my hip bones, the others splayed over my ass.
“Ride my face, baby,” he says, then tugs me down onto his mouth.
“Fuck!” I shout as soon as his lips touch my sensitive clit.
His lips wrap around it, his tongue flicking and teasing me. The pleasure rockets through me as I ride his face as requested, his eyes locked on mine. His tongue moves, slipping into my pussy, fucking me, and I let out a deep moan.
“You’re so hot,” I say, leaning back just a bit so I can feel his tongue slide into me, his smile widening as his mustache scrapes along my swollen clit. “Oh, god!” I twine my fingers into his hair to hold him right where I need him as my hips move, taking what I need.
His fingers dig into the skin of my hips, helping my hips move as I buck against his face, and that alone does it. I’m falling, coming on his tongue as I moan his name. My body is still ricocheting with my orgasm when he slides his tongue out and moves from under me.
My hands still on the headboard as I try to come back to this universe.
He shifts around me on the bed, and when he’s behind me, there’s a quick pull on my hips to tug me back, my upper half falling to the bed. Then he positions me until my hips are up high, my knees and elbows in the bed, back arched deeply. The tip of his thick cock slides up and down my entrance before he slowly, so fucking torturously, slowly, starts to slide into me.
A pained groan leaves him, and I look over my shoulder at him. His hair falls to the side, and I see his eyes are focused on where he’s sinking into me, his jaw slack, tongue in his cheek.
I lied.
This is what I want a picture of. I want it plastered on every surface, burned into my brain, into a permanent spank bank material for me to use forever.
“You should see how you look, Claire,” he says low, his eyes never leaving my pussy, never leaving his cock sliding into me. “Taking me so perfectly. Spread around me. So fucking wet from my mouth making you come.”
The previous pleasure of that orgasm was long gone, a distant memory, but the need to come around him and total lust for this man are already taking over my body once more. It seems to be a constant state of being since we got together, if I’m being honest.
I thought it would fade, that the need that lives in my bones would start to ease, but it’s anything, it’s worsened. Everyday, I wake up wanting Miles more, remembering the new positions he twists me into, the new highs he brought me to.
It’s no different now, when he bottoms out in me, and we let out a mutual groan in pained pleasure. I’m so full, especially bent like this. I try to shift to my hands, but his hand on my back pushes me so I can’t.
“Stay down, baby. Let me see your ass work.”
I moan at his words, at the way the thumb of his other hand digs into my flesh, a bite of pain left in its wake. I do as he says, staying with my chest to the bed, arching my back further and shifting my hips so I’m fucking him, meeting him thrust for thrust, my fingers between my legs, sliding against my clit, then up to feel where he is sliding into me.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he says, then pulling out and slamming back in. “Let me see this ass move.”
I oblige, more than happy to take over. I shift my hips back and forth, rocking on him, falling myself and retreating, slamming back again. His hands are ghosts on my hips, there just to have a hold on me as I do all of the work, a frame for his own dirty fantasy. It builds in me as I fuck his cock, as I hear his groans of pleasure and adoration from behind me. A hand slides down my spine, then back up, tracing to my ass and the tight hole there. His thumb grazes over it, and my pussy tightens, my hips faltering.
I’ve never done that. Never even felt the vaguest desire to. But right now? With his thumb gently pressing there, with his breathing getting heavier?
I want everything . Whatever he’ll give me.
“You want my cock here one day, baby?” he asks, the question almost entertained .
I nod frantically into the bed, my hips trying to move up, to get whatever I can. I’m so lost in a cloud of another orgasm I know will swallow me whole.
“Yes, yes,” I breathe out, my hips still fucking him though the movements are stilted, no longer able to keep up any semblance of a rhythm.
He slaps my ass with his free hand, and I scream his name out as his thumb presses just a bit harder against my asshole.
“God, I wanna take that,” he says as if to himself.
“Yes, please, fuck.” I want everything—anything—in this moment.
A dark chuckle leaves his lips, though it sounds strained with the same need coursing through me.
“No, no. Not today. We have to get you nice and ready first. Work up to it.”
I lose the pressure, and I groan at the loss, but then I hear him spit, it lands on my ass before his thumb is back, rubbing the wetness in and pressing on my asshole. I moan at the pressure of him against me in this new way and the way he groans in response. My hips move back, both onto his cock and the thumb against me, the tip sliding in.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he says as his thumb continues sliding into my ass. It’s tight and feels foreign, but he moves slowly, my body accepting every inch he gives me. When his finger is all the way inside, his palm against my lower back, I moan deep and uncontrolled, my hips bucking. I’m full, and the stimulation on both of my holes is too much.
“Fuck, Miles, fuck,” I whimper, my hips moving frantically. The sound turns into a shriek as both his cock and thumb shift out, then back in, fucking me.
“The hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he moans, sliding his hips back until just the tip of his cock is still inside. Then, he slams back in, filling me, and pressing his thumb in deeper. He repeats that same move again and again, each time his thumb moving inside me with the rhythm of him fucking me, my hips bucking back to get more, to get deeper, to come around him.
“Fuck, Claire, you gotta get there soon,” he groans through gritted teeth like he too is teetering on the edge and needs me to fall first. “Claire.”
That last small plea of my name is what does it. I tip my hips back to get him in as deep as I can, my chest collapsing further into the bed as he slams in, and I come, hard.
His thumb presses in deeper, and it somehow intensifies my orgasm, stars shooting behind my eyes. Sound fades away as the world shifts to nothing but colors and feelings, pleasure washing over me. His loud moan fills the room before I feel him throbbing in me, spilling his cum into me, hips bucking to get just a bit deeper.
When I fall asleep after we clean up, I do it completely exhausted and utterly happy.
* * *
“I wish I had something like that,” Miles whispers in the quiet of the dark. He rolled off me eventually after we both caught our breath, cleaning himself before coming back with another wet washcloth to clean me up as he loves to do. Then he dragged me into the shower with him, where he cleaned me up before he dried me off and helped get my tired body into bed.
That’s where I am now, curled around him.
I turn to look at him, confused. “What?”
“What you have here. A tight-knit family. Siblings who care about one another. Family dinners. Everyone is hanging out together.” Silence fills the room as I wait for him to continue, knowing he has more to say on the topic. “My mom and my grandmother did great, did what they could, but they had to make ends meet. They were always working, always busy.”
It reminds me of the man himself and makes me wonder just how much of his inability to slow down and enjoy life is something that has been ingrained into him.
“And, of course, there’s Paul. You have your sisters and Nate, and I know some of it is because you’re the youngest, but there’s…camaraderie with you four. Even when you fight, you get over it; you support each other. Respect each other.”
After dinner and Pictionary, and after dad talked to me, both Nate and Sloane came and found me, apologizing even though I told them it wasn’t necessary, that I understood. It’s what we do, and I never thought to take it for granted, but seeing it from his viewpoint, I see how one could envy that.
But I also realize then that Miles doesn’t see it.
“You do, Miles. It just looks different,” I tell him gently.
“No, I don’t,” he says with a scoff. Then I untangle myself from him, shifting to look at him better, seeing that he actually means it.
“You’re out of your mind if you don’t realize what a family you have.”
“Mom’s great, but she was an only child, so was my dad. I just have my mom, really.”
“Honey, you have an amazing family. Grant and June and Deck and Lainey. Helen and Benny and?—”
“They’re all friends. And they aren’t blood.”
I shake my head.
“Family is what you make it, Miles. You’ve made yourself one hell of a family,” I say, and he stares at me, taking me in for long, long moments before he smiles, understanding spreading over his face, a peace I’ve never seen settling over him.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my lips and burying a hand in my hair. “And I can’t wait to continue doing that.”
I don't ask what he means because the moment feels precious and sacred, but I can see it in his eyes all the same.
I want to continue making a family…with you.