Chapter 40 #2
I’ve never imagined that someone doing thoughtful things could be so hot until I met Miller Malone. Until that stormy night when I found him asleep in the stable next to Petunia, his hand still on her from where he’d nodded off while petting her. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“Oooh,” he breathes against my ear as he grabs my butt, “no panties. I like that.”
The squeeze of his hand sends a ripple of need to the growing heat between my legs.
At the same moment, his mouth finds mine, first running his tongue around the outline of my lips, then deepening the kiss until we’re both so desperate just from the touch of our mouths that our hands are everywhere, him tugging off my shorts and unbuttoning my top, me pushing down his boxers with my hands and then my toes.
“Never stop being this hot, Frankie,” he pants as his kisses pave a path down to my breasts. “Never stop.”
The fact that this man desires me, loves me, likes me, enjoys me, has fun with me, and has brought a new dimension to my life will astound me to the end of my days.
It’s like I was living in two-dimensional black and white, and now I live in a multidimensional fully color-saturated world of rainbows and shooting stars.
“You neither.” I roll him over onto his back and slide down his body, gliding my tongue through the ridges of his rippling abs.
“Torture.” He pushes his fingers into my hair. “Your mouth is fucking torture.”
When I reach his magnificent erection, his grip tightens on a long, low groan.
The hard shaft twitches under my tongue as I slide up one side, over the silky head, under the rim—his favorite spot that always makes his head turn into the pillow—and down the other.
His pleasure is my pleasure. His love is my love.
I suck and lick my way back to the tip and take him slowly into my mouth. He lifts his head to look at me, his eyes meeting mine for a second of extreme togetherness before they settle on the show, watching himself slide back and forth between my lips, hitting the back of my throat each time.
One suck and his eyes close, his hands drop to his sides and his head falls back again with a cry of “Fuck, you’re good.”
I wrap my hand around his length, pumping while I suck.
Then begins the twist of his hips beneath me as he loses himself to the pleasure, his body taking control.
Then he’s suddenly back in reality, lifting me off his dick, pulling me back up his body.
“I want you,” he says. “I need you. But first…” He slides down the bed between my legs, only stopping when I’m straddling his face. “You.”
That first touch of his tongue on my clit is always shocking in the way it sends rockets of pleasure firing to every corner of my body.
Every time, it’s a surprise. Every time I’m never quite ready for it. Every time it takes my breath away.
“You taste so good.” He looks up at me as I circle my hips over his face, his hands on my buttocks guiding me.
One hand slides lower and slips between my legs from behind.
“Fuck, you’re wet. So fucking wet.” His words are hot against my throbbing clit as his fingers circle my entrance.
“Oh, my God, Miller.” My back arches, sending me bearing down harder on his tongue and his hand. “What you do to me.”
“How about this?” And his fingers are inside me, stealing every ounce of breath from my lungs, sending my body curving forward.
The suction of his tongue increases as he glides his fingers in and out, sending me sailing higher and higher.
“I can’t wait.” My words stutter out between breaths. “Can’t hold on.”
“You hold onto the headboard, and I’ll hold onto you,” he says.
And I give in, let myself go, allow myself to disappear into the firm hand gripping my ass that guides me on his mouth and his fingers.
When he touches me like this, he sends me to another plane of reality. It’s as if, when the two of us are together, we create a whole other place that’s not real life—it’s an entirely separate existence.
The almost unbearable pleasure swells like a balloon being inflated more and more and more, getting tighter and tighter.
A pin hovers over it. Tantalizing it. Teasing it. Tickling the edges of it.
Then gradually applies pressure…
Until I burst.
My body thrashes over him, my grip on the headboard tightens, the waves of a climax made up of love and our new life together crash over and over me, all emanating from the places where we’re joined, where we are most intimately together.
He teases my orgasm out for even longer than usual, sending aftershocks through my body as I float down the other side of the mountain.
“Christ, Miller,” I moan as he slides his fingers from me. “You have no idea.”
“I have every idea.” He holds my hips steady with both hands as he slides back up the bed under me until I’m positioned right over his throbbing-hot dick.
“One more, baby,” he says, rocking his tip at my entrance. “It’s safe now, right?” He’s referring to how long I’ve been taking birth control.
“Yes.” This will be the first time we’ve had sex skin-on-skin.
I gasp when he pushes inside.
“Holy fuck!” he shouts as he glides deeper.
He fills me, makes me feel complete, like without him inside me life is an empty meaningless husk.
Miller’s face contorts, his eyes screwed tight. “The way you grip me. Jesus, Frankie.”
This is how life should be. A life full of love and lust and the passionate existence in each other’s lives.
Miller’s eyes open and he reaches for my face, brushing just his fingertip lightly down over my cheeks, down my neck, over my breasts.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, watching as he rolls my hard nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
My whole body tingles under his touch, readying itself for a second round.
Then he slides his hands lower, first to my hips, guiding me up and down on him, setting the pace, before sliding one hand to the part where we’re joined, where we are locked together as one.
My clit is already achingly ripe for him again, and when his finger finds it, I’m lost for a second time.
This man consumes me—my body, my mind, my soul are all joined with his, wrapped up in his.
It makes his touch even more potent, ratchets it up to more than just flesh on flesh because it’s built on something—a solid foundation of love and a thorough understanding of who we are, the ability to be our true uninhibited, unadulterated selves with each other.
“Come here.” He tugs me down over him until my breasts hover above his face. “I want to come with your tit in my mouth.”
His words set my insides on fire. I can feel my body releasing more juices at the mere sound of them.
I support myself on my hands as he massages my breast before guiding my nipple between his lips.
“Holy shit!”
“Come on, baby,” he says in time with his thrusts inside me. “Give me round two.”
I’m already on my way, and I know he’s waiting for me. This is what he does—he holds himself back until he knows I’m at the point of no return before he lets himself go.
He always puts me before himself.
And not just when we’re naked, but at all times, in all things in life.
The world disappears behind that bewitching dark velvet curtain again as I give myself to his sucking mouth and his circling fingers and his large presence inside me.
And here I go. This time it’s more like a growing crescendo, building and building inside me, until it’s set every nerve ending on fire and consumed every brain cell.
He drags his teeth over my nipple, sending a bolt of lightning to my core, and makes my body jerk against his.
I can tell he’s fighting to hold back the pace of his thrusts, struggling to hold on.
But it’s time for both of us to give in.
I bear down on his hand and meet his pounding dick pump for pump until I’m at the point of no return.
The crescendo grows until it’s filling my body, my head, until it has nowhere else to go, no other option but to explode in a monumental crash of cymbals that shatters through every part of me.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” I’m pounding the bed with my fist now.
This one is even more powerful than the first, like he’s drawn it out from somewhere even deeper inside me.
Beneath me, his animal instinct takes over, pumping up into me the way nature intended, his head rocking from side to side as he gasps and groans and moans and shouts, his fingers digging into my butt, holding me, hanging onto me, keeping me for himself forever.
“Jesus. Fuck,” he cries.
And we come together, here on my bed, surrounded by boxes containing my former existence, as I prepare to shed my old life, my old self, and move into the future where I can be the real me with the man whose every part completes every missing part of me.
This is my future. Right here.
And it involves us both going back to the place where we found each other.