7. Lydia
7
LYDIA
“ I shouldn’t be doing this,” I admitted even while I held his hands and backed down the hallway pulling Miles with me. We had a long day, but I didn’t want Miles to get away from me, not yet.
“Then do you need me to stop you?” His smirk was more of a smolder, and I didn’t think he had any intentions of insisting that I stop.
Miles was the kind of man who if I said no, or wait, he would stop immediately. And I also knew from watching him move that he would be strong enough that if he stopped moving, I didn’t have the strength to budge him. So he was following me because he wanted to.
“You keep a room on the first floor?”
“I live here. When Mom ran the inn, she turned half of the first floor of the north wing into our private living space.”
Miles stopped walking. I was right. He was solid, and I couldn’t budge him.
“This is your home, isn’t it?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes. Has been since I was about five and Mom started running the place.”
I tugged on his hands to get him moving again. Instead, he pulled me toward him. I had no choice but to let him reel me into his embrace. I giggled breathlessly as he crushed me to his chest. His fingers skimmed over my brow, brushing back my hair. His eyes searched mine.
“You’re taking me to your bed?” He put a strange emphasis on the fact that it was my bed.
I managed to nod. I tried to swallow, but everything, my thoughts, my breath, my heart, all seemed to be lodged in my throat at that moment. What was he looking for? What did he see inside me?
The soft caress of fingers against my skin tightened as he held the back of my head and then claimed my mouth. At first, the kiss was demanding, and after a second of bruising force, his lips were soft, gentle, seeking. He played with my lips, nipping with his teeth, teasing with his tongue.
I let out a soft moan as I melted against him. I wanted to flow over him and have him guide my body exactly how he wanted me.
His hands grasped at my hips and pressed our bodies tighter. He could have begun peeling my clothes from me in the chilled hall, and I would not have cared.
“Lydia.” My name came out on a low growl.
I placed my hand against his cheek. The scruff of his beard tickled my palm. I was afraid he was going to change his mind.
He continued to kiss along the side of my cheek and down my neck. And then he let out another growl sound as he lifted me.
I gasped. “Miles!”
“Put your legs around me, woman.”
I did as I was told. My slip-ons fell from my feet. His fingers bit into my ass as he held me. He took a few steps, and then my back was against the wall. I clung to his neck as he shifted, pressing into me. I was supported by his hands under my legs, a strong thigh, and the pressure of his hips against mine. There was no mistaking his arousal as he sandwiched me between the hard ridge in his pants and the wall.
His hips rocked against mine, causing the best erotic friction. His mouth was on mine. I clambered to hold on to him, to keep my legs wrapped around his hips. He ground against me as if he could rub away the clothes between us.
His hands roamed over my ribs and my hips. His lips were on my face, on my mouth, down the side of my throat. Never had I thought anyone would consume me with such desperation. The heat between us was almost unbearable.
The unbearable part really was the clothes. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, his body controlling mine, his lips against my skin.
“Miles,” I moaned.
“Lydia,” he growled.
“Bed,” I somehow managed to say.
He let out a disappointed moan and eased back from my body only enough for gravity to take over. As I slid down the space between his body and the wall, his hands grazed over my breasts, and his cock pressed into my belly.
“Are you sure you want me in your bed?”
“It’s more comfortable than the floor,” I responded. “Yes, I want you in my bed. Please.”
I held my hand out to him, and once again, I began leading him toward the private spaces of my home.
As soon as I closed the door behind him, he surprised me by picking me up again. He had wrapped his arms under my butt and lifted. I braced my hands on his shoulders.
“Where am I going?” he asked as he looked up at me.
I tried to twist and point, but that felt precarious at best. I pointed behind me to the door on the other side of the room.
“Down that hall, second door.” I laughed as he carried me. I was too big for this, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Duck,” he announced as we reached the doorway.
I leaned over, and he buried his face between my breasts. He staggered, and then I was slipping down the front of his body.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” he said sheepishly.
It was still an impressive display of strength.
“How about I distract you some more?” I asked as I pulled my sweatshirt over my head.
I dropped it on the floor and scurried away from Miles, leading him on a chase into my room. He followed and grabbed me after only a few steps.
“Gotcha!” He let out an appreciative hum as he swung me back against him, turning me so that he could place his face against my breasts again.
I clutched at his back, holding him against me. I threw my head back, giving in to the delicious passion of the moment. His hands did not fumble when it came to unclasping my bra and setting my breasts free. He covered my exposed skin with his hands and his mouth, sucking a nipple in to tease and play with.
My sense of balance was gone, and I stumbled back. My legs hit the bed, and together, we tumbled.
Miles managed to never release my nipple, licking and sucking on it. He landed with the grace of a cat. While I was pinned beneath him, he wasn’t putting any pressure on me. His hands braced against the mattress, caging me in, and one knee between my thighs supported him.
I ground against his firm thigh.
He bucked my legs farther apart before positioning himself between them. I arched up against him, seeking out the hardness of his erection, still contained by his clothing. As he continued to devour my breasts, I lost my mind to my need to feel his skin. I tried to pull on his shirt, but it was as if my hands were useless. He flicked his tongue over my sensitive nipple, and I forgot everything, including how to make a fist or tug on fabric.
Since I couldn’t figure out how his clothes worked, I knew how to get out of mine. The fleece-lined lounge pants I wore were simple elastic waist banded things. I managed to shove them down and wiggle.
Miles seemed to understand what I was doing, even though it felt as if all of his attention was on my breasts. He chased his hand after mine, and when I could no longer reach my pants, he took over, skimming the fabric the rest of the way down each leg, and eventually, off.
His clothes rasped sensually against my sensitized skin. At least one of us was naked.
He dragged his hand back up my thigh, shifting so that he trailed it between us.
I gasped as his fingers sank between my folds. He didn’t waste any time playing with my pussy before he was running the pad of his thumb in circles around my clit. He continued to suck and toy with my breasts as his hand and fingers did magical things between my legs.
I don’t know, and frankly didn’t care, how he managed to get fingers into my depth and rub against my clit at the same time. All I know is it was the most amazing sensation. He stroked and thrust and sucked and played me like I were some kind of instrument and he was a virtuoso.
The aching need that built in my core drove me to a frenzy.
“Miles, Miles,” I somehow managed to speak. “I need… Oh, God, Miles, I need you.”
I ached with longing when he pulled away from me. I reached out for him as he backed away.
“Let me get out of my clothes.” He laughed. He took my hand and kissed my fingertips. I never thought of my fingers as erogenous zones before.
I whimpered with my need. And then the sounds I made turned to gasps and grunts of appreciation as Miles stripped before me.
The man was as beautiful as a Greek sculpture, all defined planes and chiseled features, and he wanted me, my body. I was the opposite with squish and jiggle. My definitions were soft and rounded, while his were angular and firm.
He crawled back to me like a prowling beast stalking its prey. Only he didn’t have to stalk. I was spread out before him, a feast waiting to be consumed. He smiled into my eyes as I welcomed him back into my arms.
He pressed me back into the bed, and I accepted him into my depths. He filled me, stretching me until we were hip to hip.
I struggled to get enough air. The feeling of him against my skin, and inside me, robbed me of the ability to move or react. I was taut as a bowstring and felt that I was ready to shatter.
He slowly eased back before thrusting forcefully into me again, this time deeper. His thrusts drove me over the edge of reality. I fumbled to grab hold of his shoulders, scratching my nails down his arms as I tried to find purchase. But it was too late. Everything exploded as his passion drove my orgasm. I was lost to the sensations as wave after wave of spasms and electrical pulses took over my body.
I would have been lost to the abyss if it weren’t for Miles keeping me grounded, literally nailing me to the bed, anchoring me in place.
His face twisted and he looked as if he let out a silent scream as he joined me in orgasmic bliss.