Chapter Nineteen
Roe
His cousin was literally (possibly) missing.
It was the least appropriate time to be climbing on his lap.
But the intimacy had been building for hours, and my desire was a slow thrum just under my skin just from talking to him and getting to know him more deeply.
Because it wasn’t one of those cases where you were irrationally attracted to someone, but the more you got to know them, the more they gave you the ick.
No, the more I learned about Milo, the more I liked him. Which only made the desire feel like something earned rather than random.
So I wasn’t surprised that the press of his lips to mine made that thrum become a throb that had me sinking down on his lap.
His lips tasted like wine.
His hands were warm as they glided up and down the sides of my thighs.
Heat sparked, caught, blazed, spread.
My hips sank down, and I could feel the proof of his own need against me.
I moaned against his lips, and his tongue slid inside to tease over mine.
His hands slid to my hips. The steady restraint he’d been clinging to cracked with a sharp inhale, his hands tightening on my hips with unapologetic pressure.
A small sound slipped from my throat as the kiss deepened, his mouth slanting harder against mine.
Heat flashed between us as his grip guided me closer, dragging me tightly against him.
My fingers twisted in his shirt.
His hands moved upward, spanning the curve of my lower back before tracing the line of the robe belt toward the front.
I could feel it—the shift from controlled to hungry.
The kiss grew hotter, rougher, our mouths moving with the kind of breathless urgency that had my pulse racing and my thoughts scattered.
His teeth grazed my lower lip, dragging a needy gasp out of me.
He swallowed the sound.
Then his hands slipped to the knot of the belt, working it loose.
Anticipation shivered down my spine as he grabbed the sides of the robe and spread them open, exposing me completely.
Milo’s lips tore from mine, his heated gaze dropping helplessly from my face, desperate to see me.
A deep rumble rolled through him. My thighs tightened on the sides of his legs at the neediness of that sound. My very blood was singing the same tune.
A slow heat unfurled low in my stomach as I watched Milo take me in—the parted lips, the fast, shallow breaths, the tight muscle dancing in his jaw.
I’d been seen before, desired before, but had never felt quite so wanted as I did in that moment.
Milo leaned forward, his lips pressing into the curve where my neck met my shoulder.
The shock of sensation had warmth pooling at the slow drag of his lips over my skin.
His hands rose, gliding up my ribs, trailing warmth wherever they went until his palms cupped my breasts.
My head fell back with a moan.
His hands tightened, released. Then his forefingers and thumbs were squeezing, rolling.
The pressure built, making my hips finally drop all the way down, the friction of his hardness against me feeling intoxicatingly cruel.
My hips rolled. Once, twice.
But then he was grabbing me at my sides, pulling me up until I lost contact with his hard desire.
A grumble started to form.
But then his head dipped.
And he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth.
My vision went white.
A breathless, trembling gasp escaped me as his tongue began to circle me.
My body responded helplessly, greedily, arching backward to press into his mouth.
The faint scrape of teeth caused a slow, yearning throb of want that had me aching for friction to ease of the sharp ache of my need.
But Milo only released me to move across my chest and continue the exquisite torture.
“Milo,” I whimpered, not sure what I was asking for but needing it like I did my next breath.
Thankfully, Milo didn’t intend to torment me forever. His head lifted, his lips claiming mine again.
Then his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me tight against his body.
He shifted forward.
Then he got to his feet, holding me against him as he turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Anticipation sizzled.
My lips tore from his, trailing down his jaw, then his neck.
That rumble moved through him again as he angled his head to allow me more access.
I explored him with my lips and tongue and the scrape of my teeth until we reached the bed.
Milo hinged forward, making me cling to him as the world fell away behind me.
“I’ve got you,” he assured me just before my back met the mattress.
I released my hold on him and he pulled back to look down at me, the heat in his gaze scorching me.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyelids heavy with need.
His hands went to his belt, working it free.
But I didn’t want him to have all the fun.
I folded up, shrugging off the robe, then reaching upward to work his shirt buttons free, one by one. Beneath my touch, his muscles tensed as more skin appeared.
Then he pulled off his shirt.
And my focus was on his button and zipper.
I pushed his slacks down.
Before they could even reach the floor, his boxer briefs were down as well.
A soft, needy sound escaped me at the sight of him.
My sex throbbed, aching for the slide, the stretch, the needed friction.
But not yet.
I closed my hand around the base and leaned down, letting him slide into my mouth.
“Fuck,” Milo groaned, his hand slapping down on the back of my neck.
His fingers curled and crushed as I moved up and down his length, driving him up with mercilessly slow movements.
It wasn’t long before his own need had his hips rocking into my mouth, faster, harder.
I moaned around him, loving his lack of control.
The vibration of the sound only made him slam deeper, a low groan escaping him.
Then his hand slid, fingers curling in my hair and pulling me back until I lost him.
When my gaze lifted to his, I found his half-closed with need.
Then he bent down, grabbing me behind both knees, and flipping me back on the bed.
Before I could even draw in a breath, he was buried between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs hard as his mouth and lips worked me with unbearable precision.
Sensation spiraled, hot and dizzying.
My breath felt caught in my lungs under the pressure of the growing pleasure.
My hips rocked into the sensations, begging for more. And Milo was all too happy to deliver.
My soft whimpers grew to desperate moans, as he drove me closer and closer to the edge, with short, strangled gasps.
The tension coiled tighter, tighter.
Then snapped.
And the pleasure surged—hot, helpless, perfect.
Milo’s head shifted, kissing up the triangle above my sex, over my hip, belly, ribs.
The softness of his lips, the tease of his tongue, the scrape of his stubble somehow had the lazy aftermath of the orgasm start to stir, to build.
His tongue traced under my breasts, then he shifted up, sucking my nipple into his mouth with an intensity that felt close to pain even as pleasure bloomed through me.
The desire settled deep, quiet and insistent as he moved across my chest, then slid upward. Lazy, unhurried.
I reached for him, pulling him against me. The firm press of him sent heat spiraling through me as I softened against him, all want and yielding tension.
His hips shifted, and the slide of him against me made my pulse stutter.
His lips met mine again, but all control had snapped. It was lips, tongues, teeth, and desperate need.
My legs bracketed around his hips as I rocked against his hard length. His own hips ground down in time.
He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching into the nightstand, and coming back with what we needed.
The kiss broke as he shifted back on his knees to protect us, then he was over me again.
This time, his hips shifted.
He nudged me open.
My body responded instantly—pressing, needing.
The first slow push pulled a broken sound from my throat. His own groan was low and rough as my body tightened around him.
His forehead pressed to mine as he settled deep, his body trembling with the need for release as he desperately tried to rein it in.
But that was the last thing I wanted.
I rocked against him, chasing the pressure, the friction we both so desperately needed.
A deep rumble moved through him as he pressed deeper.
Then he was driving into me, slow and deep at first, then harder, faster as I met each thrust, my moans filling the room.
He didn’t slow, didn’t stop, didn’t give my body a second for the sensations to ebb. He drove me ruthlessly toward the brink, our hammering heartbeats in sync.
My body was trembling with the tension, with the anticipation.
My breath fractured helplessly.
The pleasure bloomed so violently, it stole my thoughts, stripped me bare. And I gave into it completely, lost in the flood of sensation as the orgasm came in strong, rhythmic bursts.
Milo groaned, driving harder, deeper, then shuddering as he found his own release with mine.
He collapsed onto me afterward, the pressure achingly welcome.
My arms tightened around him, grounding myself to him as the chaos inside of me slowly calmed.
What felt like a long time later, he pulled against my hold, making me realize how tightly I’d been clinging when all my muscles ached when released.
“Be right back,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before sliding away.
Alone, I smiled up at the ceiling, feeling that sated, pleasant feeling spread all through me.
Milo came back a moment later, still perfectly naked. I went ahead and took in the view, not sure how many opportunities I’d get to see it. And it was a good one.
His phone lit up in his hand, making me sit up.
“Did anyone hear anything?”
His smile was soft as he joined me on the bed, both of us sliding under the covers and sitting back against the headboard.
“Not yet.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“Dom’s been around the block; he can take care of himself if this is something dangerous. But I’m still leaning toward this being about a woman.”
He set his phone on the nightstand and reached for me instead.
“Can I make a demand?” he asked.
I was still too floaty to tense at that.
“Maybe.”
“Stay.”
My heart squeezed.
“I know you have a cat…”
“She’s fed.”
“So stay.” His arm curled me against his chest.
“Okay.”
It was the easiest decision of my life.