Chapter 18 #2
My heart slammed against my ribs. The dressing room felt smaller, and the distant roar of the crowd still leaking through the walls only amplified the feeling.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Are you gonna be good and listen to instructions?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He looped the belt loosely around my throat. His grey eyes searched mine, checking, waiting.
“Safe word?”
My lips twitched. “Asshole,” I said.
He grinned. “I may mistake it for something else.”
“Red then.”
“Good girl.” The praise made my stomach flip. He tugged the belt slightly, pulling me closer until our mouths were almost touching. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to ride me until I say stop. You don’t come until I give you permission. Understand?”
I nodded, but his hand tightened on the leather.
“Say it, baby.”
“I understand.”
“And if you’re good — and I mean really good…” His free hand slid up my inner thigh, fingers brushing against the most sensitive part of me. “I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.”
“And if I’m not good?”
His smile turned wicked. “Then I’ll edge you until you’re crying and begging, and I still won’t let you finish.” He leaned in, teeth grazing my earlobe. “So what’s it gonna be, doll? You gonna be good for me?”
“Yes.” The word came out strangled.
“Then stand up. Let’s rid you of those fishnets.”
I climbed off his lap, and his fingers immediately dug into the pantyhose, tearing them with a tasty ripping sound.
The fishnets now hung in tatters around my legs.
He didn’t bother with my panties — merely pushed them to the side and dragged a finger through my pussy while undoing the button of his pants with the other hand.
“Now slowly…” He kept gliding his finger through me. “…get back here.”
I climbed back onto his lap, but this time when I straddled him, there was nothing between us except his jeans.
His hand went to his zipper, and within a breath, his cock was free. He reached for the belt again.
“Slowly,” he reminded, and I began lowering myself onto him. Good God, he felt so good.
His grip on the belt tightened as I sank down inch by inch, and the leather pressed against my throat, reminding me that he was very much in control. My breath came in shallow gasps, half from the sensation of him filling me and half from the heady rush of giving myself over to him like this.
“Eyes on me,” Milo commanded. “Don’t you fucking look away.”
I locked eyes with him. His hand gripped my hip, slowing me down.
“Slower. I won’t say it again.”
I whimpered but obeyed, slowing to an agonizing pace that had him hitting every nerve ending inside me.
The phone was still recording on the makeup counter, capturing everything — the way his tattooed arm flexed as he held the belt, the way my back arched, the little gasps and moans I couldn’t hold back.
“That’s it,” he murmured, eyes dark and focused entirely on me. “Now tell me why the fuck were you crying during the show?”
My breath hitched, and I froze halfway down his length. “What?”
“You heard me.” His thumb stroked the side of my throat where the leather pressed. “I saw you. Tears running down those pretty cheeks during the ballad.” His hips shifted, pushing up slightly, making me gasp. “So tell me.”
My eyes strayed briefly toward the phone. Shit. This can’t be in the video.
I tried to move, to take him deeper, but his grip on my hip tightened, holding me in place.
“Milo—”
“Answer the question, or you don’t get to move.”
My thighs were already shaking from the strain of holding myself like this, impaled on him but not allowed to sink down fully. “It was just... the song.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know.” My voice came out breathy, desperate. “It just... hit different. Okay?”
He studied my face for a long moment, and I watched something shift behind his eyes. Something softer than the commanding persona he’d been wearing. Then his hand released my hip and cupped my face instead.
“All the way down,” he said quietly. “Now.”
I sank down completely, and we both groaned. He filled me so perfectly it made my eyes sting again.
“Fuck, you feel good.” His forehead dropped to mine. “Now move. Nice and slow.”
I started to rock my hips and felt the belt loosen marginally.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, watching me. His hand slid from my face down to my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple through the thin fabric. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.”
I didn’t know where it came from, but it did, and I suddenly blurted out, “I love you.”
The words set the world on pause.
Milo’s hips stilled, his eye went wide and for a second — just a second — I saw every wall he’d ever built come crashing down. Then his expression changed. From shock to something… softer.
“Say that again,” he whispered.
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. “I—”
“Say it again.” The belt tightened just slightly as his other hand gripped my hip. “Look at me and say it again.”
I swallowed, meeting his eyes. “I love you.”
He made a sound — something I could not decipher, whether a laugh or a groan — it didn’t matter — and then his mouth crashed into mine. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to crawl inside me and see whether I’d said the truth.
I had. As stupid as it was, I loved this infuriating asshole.
His hand released the belt entirely, both arms wrapping around me as he stood up from the couch, still inside me.
I gasped against his mouth as he turned and pressed me against the wall, my legs locked around his waist. The belt fell away completely, the belt buckle hitting the floor with a metallic clink.
“You can’t say shit like that,” he growled against my throat, hips driving into me harder now. “You can’t fucking say that to me.”
“Trust me,” I began. “I’m not thrilled about the prospect either.”
He thrust deep, making me cry out. Then he laughed. “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?”
My nails dug into his shoulders when he bottomed out again.
“But a brat I can’t imagine my life without,” he continued.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he chose that moment to shift the angle, hitting something inside me that made me teleport to la-la-land. All I could do was hold on as he fucked me against the wall.
“You feel what you do to me?” His voice was wrecked, raw. “Every fucking time I see you, I lose my goddamn mind.”
“Milo—” My head fell back against the wall.
He pressed his forehead to mine, hips still moving in that relentless rhythm. “I love you, doll.”
His hand slid between us, finding my clit, and I nearly screamed.
I don’t know what sent me over, whether his words or his fingers, but I came not having received the good-to-go. The orgasm hit me like lightning, shattering everything and everyone — possibly even a part of me.
He groaned against my neck, feeling the convulsions, and shuddered mere moments later, filling me up with his hot cum.
I needed to catch my breath because that — that was unexpected. I blew out a shaky exhale and said, “Well, this one’s not going on OnlyFans.”
Milo laughed, still pressed against me. “Attempt number two in Maui?”
I leaned in and caught his lip with my teeth. “On the plane.”