Chapter 8 #2
I swallow. My throat feels tight. There’s too much in me and nowhere for it to go.
“I hate what he did to you,” I say. “I hate that I didn’t stop it sooner. I hate that you walked away alone.”
Her breath catches. She looks like she wants to argue. Like she wants to pretend none of this is affecting her.
But her eyes betray her.
“So don’t,” she says, voice low. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?” I ask, even though I know.
She exhales, shaky. “Make me feel something I can’t afford.”
I step closer, still keeping my foot in the door, my voice dropping. “You don’t have to afford it. Just feel it.”
Her gaze flicks to my mouth. Then back to my eyes.
The air between us turns thick, heavy with everything we didn’t say downstairs.
“Mia,” I murmur.
She doesn’t tell me no.
That’s all it takes.
I lean in and kiss her.
It’s not gentle. Not polite. It’s the kind of kiss that comes from restraint snapping, from anger and fear and want twisting together until the only thing left is need.
She makes a soft sound into my mouth that wrecks me, and then she’s kissing me back, fingers curling into my shirt like she’s trying to steady herself.
I press her softly against the doorframe, not trapping her, just close, close enough to feel her breath stutter against mine. Her hands slide up my chest, then hesitate, like she’s arguing with herself.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her lips are parted. Her eyes are dark. Her cheeks are flushed.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispers.
I let out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “I’m already in trouble.”
I trail kisses down her jaw, to the soft hollow beneath her ear, savoring the shiver that ripples through her.
“God, Mia,” I murmur, letting my hands roam her back, molding her to me.
I brush my lips down her neck, slow at first, then harder, biting gently until she moans, her body arching into mine.
Her hands roam up my chest, tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I lift her easily, letting her legs wrap around my hips as I kiss her deeper, tasting the salt of her skin. She’s soft and fierce at once, her hips rolling, meeting every touch with a hunger that matches mine.
We stumble together toward the bed, letting the door close behind us, never breaking the kiss.
Every movement is frantic, greedy—her dress rides up, my hands sliding over warm, bare skin, memorizing every curve, every sound she makes.
She tugs my shirt over my head, her mouth finding my collarbone, her teeth scraping my skin.
“Mia,” I whisper, barely coherent, “tell me to stop and I will.”
She shakes her head, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare.”
My hands slide around to her front, thumbs brushing over her through the fabric of her dress.
I feel her inhale sharply, her body arching into my touch, and I groan against her skin.
I lower my mouth, kissing along her collarbone, then lower still, pressing slow, heated kisses over her breasts through the dress.
She gasps, fingers digging into my shoulders, and I stay there, kissing, teasing, letting my mouth linger until her breathing goes uneven. I feel powerful and undone all at once, like I could protect her from everything and still lose myself in her completely.
I pull back to remove her dress completely, and then I just look down at her for a moment, taking her in. Her eyes are dark, unfocused, lips swollen from kissing. She looks like she wants this as much as I do, and that realization sends another wave of heat straight through me.
I slip my hand behind her, fingers fumbling for a second before I find the clasp of her bra, removing it and throwing it aside.
Her nipples are already hard, begging for my mouth. I palm both breasts, squeezing gently, thumbs brushing over those tight peaks, and she lets out this breathy little moan that makes my cock throb.
I lean in and wrap my lips around one nipple, sucking slow and deep, dragging my tongue across the tip until she’s writhing beneath me. Her back arches, pressing more of herself into my mouth.
“God, Tyler,” she gasps. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t plan to. I suck harder, flicking my tongue, letting my teeth graze her just enough to make her gasp again. Her hands tangle in my hair as I move to the other breast, mouthing and licking, making her squirm.
She tastes like warm skin and sweat and lust. Her body moves beneath mine with a hunger that lights me up from the inside. She hooks her legs around my waist, grinding up against the bulge in my jeans, and I groan into her chest. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.
I trail kisses down her stomach, slow and wet, dragging my tongue along the soft skin just above her waistband.
She whimpers when I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down, inch by inch, revealing the slick heat between her thighs.
Her pussy’s already glistening, lips flushed, the little pink nub at the top swollen and begging for attention.
I spread her legs wide, pushing her thighs apart with my hands as I settle between them. I breathe her in first—slow, teasing. Her hips twitch at the sensation.
Then I dive in.
My tongue parts her folds and she jerks like I shocked her. I lick her slowly at first, just tasting, savoring, dragging the flat of my tongue from her opening up to her clit.
She gasps, one hand flying to my hair. “Fuck—Tyler…”
I groan into her, and the vibration makes her moan louder. I start to move faster—long strokes, short flicks, circling her clit with the tip of my tongue. Her thighs close around my head and I let them. I want her to squeeze me, drown me in her.
I suck on her clit now, hard enough to make her cry out, then pull back and flick it with my tongue over and over, building her up.
She’s panting, squirming, grinding into my face, chasing that edge.
I slip a finger inside her—tight, hot, so fucking wet—and she moans louder.
I curl it just right and slide a second one in, thrusting slow and deep while I keep licking.
She’s losing it. Her hips are bucking, her moans turning into broken little gasps.
“Oh my god—don’t stop, please don’t stop—”
I don’t. I stay locked in, fingers pumping, tongue working her clit, tasting every drop. She grabs the sheets with one hand, my hair with the other, hips shaking as she teeters on the edge.
Then she comes.
Her whole body tenses, thighs clamping around my head as she lets out a loud, shuddering moan. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, wetness gushing as I keep licking her through it. She writhes under me, falling apart, moaning my name like a prayer and a curse all at once.
I finally pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, panting. She’s glowing, chest rising and falling, hair a mess across the pillows, lips parted, eyes half-lidded.
“Jesus,” she breathes. “Tyler…”
I crawl up her body, kissing her thighs, her stomach, her breasts again—can’t get enough of her. She grabs my face and kisses me hard, tasting herself on my lips.
Her hand slips between us, tugging at my belt. “Get your jeans off. Now.”
I groan, fumbling to get them open, my cock springing free, hard and leaking. Her eyes drop to my cock and she bites her lip, slow, deliberate.
Fuck. That look hits me straight in the gut. Desire, hunger, ownership. Like she’s already decided what she wants to do to me.
“Jesus,” she murmurs. “You’re shaking.”
I laugh under my breath, rough and breathless. “You did that.”
She reaches for me, wraps her hand around my cock, warm and confident. I hiss as she strokes me once, slow, then twice, her thumb smearing the slick tip. I’m leaking already, aching, desperate. She watches my face the whole time, like she loves seeing how wrecked I am.
“Come here,” she says.
She pulls me down for a kiss, deep and wet, tongue sliding against mine. I can taste her on her lips and it makes my head spin. Her hand keeps moving, steady, teasing, just enough to make me lose my mind but not enough to finish me. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I need you inside me,” she whispers against my mouth. “Now.”
I don’t argue.
I line myself up and drag the head of my cock through her wetness, slow and deliberate.
She gasps, hips lifting, chasing it. “Tyler, don’t tease me—”
I push in.
She moans, loud and unfiltered, nails digging into my shoulders as I sink into her inch by inch. She’s so fucking tight, so warm, like she’s built just for me. I pause when I’m fully inside her, buried deep, feeling the way she grips me.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You feel so good.”
“So do you,” I growl.
I start to move, slow at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Her body reacts instantly, hips rocking up to meet me, breath stuttering. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound mixing with her soft whimpers.
I lean down and suck one of her nipples into my mouth while I thrust, tongue circling, teeth grazing. She arches up into me, tits pressing into my face, moaning my name over and over like she can’t stop herself.
“Harder,” she says. “Please.”
That’s all it takes.
I grab her thighs and push them back, opening her wider, and start fucking her hard. The sound changes immediately, wet and loud, her moans turning sharp and broken. Her body rocks with every thrust, tits bouncing, head thrown back.
“Fuck, Tyler—just like that—”
I watch her fall apart, watch her face twist with pleasure, watch the way her mouth opens when I hit her just right. I lean down and kiss her again, messy and hungry, swallowing her sounds as I drive into her.
Her hand slips between us, fingers finding her clit. She rubs herself fast, frantic, and I feel her start to tighten around me.
“Oh god,” she gasps. “I’m close—”
“Come on,” I murmur against her ear. “Come for me.”
She does.
Her body locks up, a cry tearing from her throat as she comes hard, pussy clenching around my cock. I swear under my breath, thrusting through it, chasing my own release as she pulses around me.
I’m right there too. I pound into her a few more times, deep and relentless, until everything snaps and I come with a groan, burying myself to the hilt as heat floods through me. My head drops to her shoulder, breath ragged, body shaking as I empty into her.
She clings to me, still trembling, fingers digging into my back, and we stay like that for a moment, stuck together, both of us breathing hard.
I finally pull back just enough to look at her. Her hair’s a mess, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing. She looks wrecked. Beautiful.
She laughs softly, breathless. “Well…that escalated.”
I grin, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “You complaining?”
She shakes her head and pulls me back down. “Not even close.”