Chapter 22 Miller Gwen
MILLER
If someone had a gun to my head right now and asked me what Gwen and I talked about the entire drive back to her house, I’d be a dead man.
I actually think I might already be a dead man. Because there’s no way real life Miller is going home with this woman.
After putting my car in park in her driveway, I turn off the engine and look at Gwen in the passenger seat. She put that big head of hair of hers up into a ponytail once we left the bar, and I’m having thoughts I’ve never had before about taking it and wrapping it around my—
Gwen interrupts my thoughts. “Are we going inside or do you plan on staring at me, practically screaming your dirty dreams in my face, for the remainder of the night?”
“I—What? Me? No.” I stumble to throw my door open and loop over to her side to whip the passenger door open. “Okay, maybe me a little. I’m sorry, you’re just—”
Gwen steps out and places her hand on my chest, and I instantly feel warm. “I like it, Miller. I like your attention a lot. I’m telling you right now that I’m probably into whatever it is you want to do because I like you. A lot.”
I needed to hear that, and I wasn’t man enough to admit it. How she knew isn’t something I need to dwell on for too long, because it’s Gwen, and she always seems to know what someone needs.
My breath comes out in a whoosh, and I follow her up her front steps and into the entryway after she unlocks the door.
I squat down to untie my boots, and leave them by the door.
I pull my sweatshirt up and over my head, and find an empty hook, placing my hat on top of it.
“I’m not sure what I should be doing right now,” I tell Gwen with embarrassing honesty.
She guides me into the living room without a word, and stops in front of the couch.
My cock stirs as I watch her sink to her knees in front of me.
She’s looking up at me with those big, doe eyes.
A dichotomy of innocence and sin. I swipe my hand down my face trying to keep my shit together as she toys with my belt.
Once undone, she makes quick work of the button and zipper on my pants.
I’m fully hard in an instant.
This is the single hottest moment of my life, and she’s barely touched me. I haven’t even gotten my hands on her yet. I let out a stifled moan through my hand when her fingers wrap around me. The smallest bit of her touch is already sending me over the fucking edge.
“Gwendolyn,” I say through gritted teeth.
Her hand gently glides up and down my length, like she’s getting used to the feel of it all. There’s a small smile on her face when she looks up at me again.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
“I’m not opposed to begging at this point.”
I swear to God I see a twinkle in her eye. She leans back on her heels, not stopping her slow stroking. “You’d beg.”
I think it’s a question, but it comes out more like a shocked statement. I manage to pull myself together to pin her chin with my thumb and index finger. “You don’t know the things I’d do to get those pouty lips on me right now.”
I swipe my thumb over her bottom lip, and she parts her mouth for me in answer.
She pulls my thumb in and sucks as her tongue lolls around it, in what I can only assume is a preview of what’s to come.
She releases me with a pop, and I start singing my ABC’s backwards in my head to keep from coming from that alone.
“Sit,” she commands as she pushes me back so I have no choice but to fall into the couch. I wouldn’t have tried to object anyway.
I’m in so over my fucking head right now, but I’m finding the will to give a shit nonexistent. I have the most beautiful fucking woman in the world on her knees in front of me, and I don’t have an ounce of the control pulsing through this room.
Gwen leans forward, rubbing the palms of her hands up and down my thighs while my jeans sit pooled at my ankles. She grips the base of my cock with her right hand and looks up at me again.
“Tell me what you want.”
How do I tell her everything? How do I tell her I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing and my experience in all of this is next to none without her thinking I’m not going to put my all into making this good for her? I want to get this right.
Gwen’s head tilts to the side in question. She’s probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh while pulling on the ends of my hair to the point of pain to snap myself out of this.
She sits back on her heels again, and I feel the loss of her touch instantly. “What’re you thinking about, Miller?”
Fucking Christ, her saying my name like that right now makes my cock twitch again.
“I’ve never done this,” I blurt out.
Gwen’s eyes pop out like a cartoon. “Done…this?” Her hand snakes up my thigh again, her fingers wrapping around the base of me, and I shudder.
“Yes,” I manage to get out.
“Ever?”
“Ever, Gwendolyn.”
I watch the goosebumps spread up her arm. “But, you’re a dad…You’ve…”
“I stumbled into losing my virginity at sixteen, and wound up with a pregnant girlfriend within two months. Having a baby young doesn’t equal experience, Gwen.”
I try to not be embarrassed about it. I’ve watched porn.
I’ve had sex. Obviously. But, I’ve been raising Penelope on my own, not trusting anyone.
Date nights haven’t been a thing for me to broaden my horizons with.
I turned that part of my brain off a long time ago.
My hand and I have gotten by just fine, until now.
The smile that breaks out on her face is downright diabolical.
“Let me take care of you then,” she says as she lowers her head to my tip.
Any inkling of embarrassment disappears as I watch her swirl her tongue around me like a fucking lollipop, and I try to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head.
My hands instinctively find themselves running through her hair, grasping it.
Gwen takes me in her mouth, and I have no willpower left to do anything but let her fully take over.
“Holyfuckingshit,” I get out between breaths.
She takes me deep and continues to stroke with her hand at the base. I feel myself buck and hit the back of her throat. She moans around me, and I now picture sheep to count to keep myself from coming on the spot.
Yeah, this is a top ten moment for me. Scratch that, top five. Hell, maybe even top three.
“Holy shit,” I hiss.
I see the corners of her lips tip up. I watch her suck me in over and over again. Her cheeks hollow out, and I black out.
I let my head fall back, and I close my eyes while continuing to run my fingers through Gwen’s hair as she works me. Somewhere along the way, her ponytail holder slipped off and seeing Gwen like this has ruined me.
I’m probably supposed to be thinking of words and saying them out loud, but full transparency, there’s not a thought floating through my brain beyond telling myself to keep up and not come.
I look down to see her eyes meet mine and caress her hair. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
GWEN
They say it’s always the tall, skinny guys, and boy, were they fucking right.
I work the base of Miller’s cock with one hand while taking as much of his length as I can in my mouth. I grip tightly and suck until my cheeks hollow out. The moans he lets out send shivers down my spine, and I know without the need for confirmation that I’m soaked through my thong.
There’s so much power in knowing how good you can make someone feel like this. Yeah, I might be the one on my knees, but Miller here would probably do anything I asked while in this position.
I release his tip with a pop, continuing to stroke him while I look up to see he still has one hand gripped in my hair and the other pressed in a fist against his mouth.
“Miller?” I say in a low voice.
He tenses up, and I find way too much joy in his inability to keep it together for it to be normal. But I don’t care. I want him completely undone for me.
“I need words, baby.” I drag my tongue along the bottom of his shaft.
“Words? Jesus Christ—” he mutters more to himself than me. “Gwen, I’m trying to not blow on the fucking spot here.”
My only answer is taking him deeper, until he hits the back of my throat again. And with a hand pressed into the back of his leg, I hold him there for a moment and release when I hear him let out a breath with my name on it.
“Gwen,” Miller pants. “Gwen, I’m gonna come.”
I run one hand up and down his thigh, and I feel goosebumps break out every place I touch. I grip him hard and continue sucking until I feel him tense up again and let his release down the back of my throat.
“Gwendolyn,” Miller moans my name like a fucking prayer as I swallow him down.
I loosen my grip and gently slide him out of my mouth, lightly licking his tip before looking up at him. His hair has been pulled in every direction, his chest is heaving. Miller looks downright demolished sitting here on this couch half undressed and rumpled.
I. Am. Obsessed.
His eyes are pinned on me with a look I can’t quite place. It’s awe and adoration, and I think I’ll be chasing the high of it for a long time.
Before I can lean back on my heels again, Miller moves. He kicks his pooled jeans off and hoists me up. He tosses me so my back hits the couch cushions, and suddenly I’m trapped by a half-naked Miller hovering over me.
“That was…” He’s still panting, and I’m trying not to squirm under him. Forgoing the need for words, his mouth meets mine. I’m sure he can taste himself on my tongue. He has one hand braced near my face while the other roams my body.
His fingers pause when they reach the fabric of the bodysuit covering my breasts. I know he’s noticed them before, but has always been too polite to ask. Miller gently and slowly—so, so slowly—pulls each strap down over my shoulders, exposing my chest to him.
The streetlight casts a glow into the living room that makes the metal of my piercings glint.