35
“Gosh, he can’t keep his eyes off you for a second,”
I yelp and then turn to find Miles’s mum shuffling her chair up to mine. She looks apologetic at having made me jump, but then points to where Miles is talking to friends over the other side of the room, but keeps looking over his shoulder to grin at me.
Truly, I was aware that he kept looking at me, and I was fucking loving it. I swear, no one has ever been this obviously into me and it’s so nice. Or, it would be if the anxious woman in my head hadn’t suddenly decided to wake up about half an hour ago. She’s been keeping me humble, don’t you worry.
Even though the night technically ended about an hour ago, everyone is still mulling around the event room. Julian and Jas snuck off about fifteen minutes ago, probably to have their actual wedding night, but everyone else is still here and taking advantage of the open bar.
The lights got turned on, much to my chagrin, but I’d stopped worrying about how much my makeup had come off and instead gotten absorbed into a heated discussion about feminism with Carrie and Elliot, Miles’s younger brother. Let’s just say, he firmly regretted saying that he thought men were better leaders.
He is now absorbed with one of Jas’s work friends though. It didn’t seem as inappropriate that she was sitting on his knee a few minutes ago. In fact, since Carrie decided she was going to bed, I had just been happily reading a mushy romance book on my phone and waiting for Miles while Elliot and the girl got it on on the other side of the table. But now, with his mum sitting next to me, he might want to stop making the table rock. Seriously, what is going on back there?
“I just want to thank you for coming with him today,” Jen says.
I frown, “Sure,” I say, “I’ve had a really good time,” And I’m not lying. Like, sure, less mean girls would have been nice, but they haven’t ruined this weekend at all. I’ve had an incredible time, and whatever happens, at least I know that this weekend was as good as it can be, you know?
“It’s so nice to see him happy,” she says, “I really don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as he is with you,”
“I just can’t imagine Miles not smiling,” I say, smiling to myself, “He’s like sunshine,” I add.
Jennifer smiles, “He’s always been a happy person,” she agrees, “But, my god Delaney, with you he glows,”
I grin even harder and look down at my hands. She puts her hands on mine, “I’m serious, Delaney,” she says, drawing my eyes back to her face, “Adriana’s behaviour hasn’t gone unnoticed by me tonight,” she says, furtively looking over to where Adriana is sitting with a friend and peeking looks at Miles when she thinks no one is looking. “He was never as happy as he thought he was with her,”
My eyebrow must twitch because Jennifer continues, “It always felt like he was only with her because his dad approved. I know how he struggles with his father not understanding him, and when he was with Adriana, his dad always seemed pleased. Like he was becoming the man he wanted Miles to be,”
I try not to assume this means his dad doesn’t approve of me, but I suddenly feel sad about it. As if it somehow matters a lot whether his dad likes me because it could affect how Miles feels about me.
“One day, Art will get over Miles not working for him,” Jen adds, shooting her husband a scowl, “but until then, just know I’m on Miles’s side,”
“I can tell,”
“We must seem a very strange family to you,” she says, looking slightly ashamed.
I snort without meaning to, “Sorry, I was just thinking about how I assumed Miles would think my family was strange when he met them,” I explain, “Honestly, I think every family thinks they’re weird and everyone else is normal, but all families are weird. You can’t pick them, that’s the issue,”
Jen chuckles, “You might be right,” she says, “You know, you’re very wise, Delaney,”
I grin and nod, “I know,” I say.
She laughs again, shaking her head, “Funny and pretty,” she says, “Miles really has hit the jackpot with you,”
*
After my conversation with Jen, Art decided to drop into the seat on my other side and grill me on every aspect of my life. He seemed impressed that my sister is a solicitor and, honestly, I think he’d love my mum. They could sit together and chat about what a disappointment I am.
When Miles noticed this though, he extricated himself from his group and told me we were going to bed. It took us another half an hour of goodbyes before we could actually leave, so now I am actually half asleep and using him as an upright pillow in the lift.
“So,” Miles says, the minute the lift doors close.
“So,” I mutter.
“You and my mum looked like you were having a good chat,” he says.
“You mean, when I was cracking jokes left, right, and centre, and your mum told me you hit the jackpot with me,” I say.
He snorts, “Well, she’s not wrong,” he says, pressing a kiss to my hair in a way that makes my heart flutter.
I laugh, “You’re such a cliche,”
He just laughs and then pulls his arm around me, pressing his lips to my hair again and making me feel like a fucking princess for the millionth time since I met him.
We go through such domestic motions when we get in the room. We brush our teeth together, he stands and chats with me as I remove my makeup and pull my hair into a scrunchie. Then we climb into bed and face each other talking about the day, about his family, about my job, about life.
Eventually, the room hums with sleep and we both fall silent. With my eyes closed, I think about the pleasant domesticity of the evening. Of what life would be like with Miles. Having someone who only ever wants me to be me. Someone who doesn’t need me to be anything else. Of the ease of it all. No performing. No worrying about what I say or do around him. Knowing that, deep down, he actually just accepts me. And that acceptance, wholehearted and unchanging, feels so new and yet so right to me.
*
When I wake up, Miles is sitting up already.
“Hey,” he says, grinning down at me and putting his phone on the bedside table.
“Hi,” I say, mirroring his grin.
“Our presence has been requested at breakfast this morning,” he mumbles, laying back down and facing me.
“By who?” I ask, turning onto my side to face him.
“Jas,” he says, “Julian just texted and said she wants to see us there at 10,”
I snort, “We are best friends now,”
“Oh I know,”
“What time is it?”
“Just gone 8,” he says, “We’ve got a couple of hours to kill,”
I frown, “But what could we do?”
He smirks, “I mean, there is something I can think of,” he says, trailing a hand up my side and then pulling me against him. I can feel his hard length pressing into my stomach already but I feign innocence.
“What?” I ask, batting my eyelashes.
He grins, shaking his head and rolling on his back, “Well, I have been having some deep thoughts about the climate. What do you think? Will we be able to implement the changes by 2030?”
I grin, sitting up and climbing on top of him so I’m straddling him. I pull my t-shirt over my head, throwing it aside. His eyes drag over my chest, and I sigh, “I don’t know, you know,” I say, “I feel like we really need big conglomerates to make the changes first. There’s only so much an individual can do,”
He nods, pushing his hands up my thighs and grinding into me, “I know,” he says, “They’ve been passing blame for years. Carbon footprints and whatnot. I’d say it really is time to stop using fossil fuels,”
“Agreed,” I say, “I’d argue the time to stop was actually twenty years ago,” I add, grinding with him now, my toes curling as I feel a tightening pleasure in my core.
“Oh absolutely. But you know the saying, the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago, the second best time is now,” he says wisely.
“That’s very profound for 8 am,” I say, a little breathless as his hands start to roam my hips and waist.
He snorts, sitting up and pulling one of my peaked nipples into his mouth, “What’s profound is that I could remember it with you grinding your perfect little arse on me,” he says in between rolling his tongue around my nipple.
I groan as he flicks his tongue over it again and I grin up at the ceiling, “Oh yes, well done, Milesy boy,”
He chuckles, pulling my other nipple between his fingers and rolling it. I grind down onto him, feeling empty and aching. He tugs harder on my nipple and then lets it go with a pop. Then he shifts under me and turns to lay me out on the bed beneath him.
He traces kisses along my rib cage, one hand still playing with my breasts, and the other running over my hip bone making me squirm.
His fingers run all the way down my side and then over the front of my already-soaked underwear, “Fuck, Del,” he murmurs, “You’re so wet,”
I groan as he runs his finger over my clit in circles. Even with the cotton of my underwear between him and the little bud, I still feel like I’m going to combust.
“Miles,” I breathe as he pulls my underwear down and throws it across the room.
He pushes my legs apart and then pulls his tongue up my centre. “Fuck,” I groan. He grins up at me before pushing two fingers inside of me and tugging my clit between his lips. He pumps his fingers hard and fast, adding a third finger as my breathing hitches and I writhe under him.
His tongue is tracing circles over my clit now and then he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his tongue. I’ve never had a guy fuck me with his tongue and all I can think is that I wish I knew this was a thing and that it would feel this good. I’d have been begging for it.
“Oh my god, Miles,” I groan when he pulls away and runs his tongue over my clit again and again. I push my hands into his hair, grinding against his face and seeing fucking stars as I come, hard.
He continues his attack all through my orgasm and only stops when my legs stop shaking. He presses kisses to my thighs, up and over my hips and then to my neck where he nuzzles me for a second before flopping onto his back next to me .
“You’re going to have to give me a second,” I murmur, eyes closed and hand thrown across my face, “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life,”
“That was pretty fucking hot,” he says.
I nod, and then I open my eyes and see him lying next to me, staring at the ceiling and grinning. I look down at his solid body and see his underwear tented by his erection. I grin, “Okay, I’m ready now,”
He looks at me grinning, “Ready for what?”
I raise an eyebrow, “Oh, you don’t want to fuck me?”
He snorts, “I don’t think I’ll ever not want to fuck you, Del,” he says, grabbing my hips and turning me onto my side. He presses in behind me and reaches over to stroke my clit again. I groan, reaching behind me and fisting his erection through his underwear. He kisses my neck and then pushes away to pull his underwear off and roll on a condom.
He’s pressed up against me again in seconds, pulling the head of his cock through my folds and then lifting my leg by the knee. He angles it so my legs are open and then lines himself up and thrusts inside me in one swift motion. I cry out at the fullness, his hand gripping my thigh and holding me in place as he pushes into me hard and fast. His other hand reaches under me, coming round to the front of my waist and holding me against him tight.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Del,” he murmurs in my ear, pounding even harder into me .
I groan, “More,” I mutter, needing even more than he’s giving me. Needing him somehow closer.
He pulls my knee back a little bit and then murmurs in my ear, “You want more, Del?” I nod and he drags his teeth up my neck before breathing in my ear, “I’ve got my hands full, hon. You’re going to have to touch yourself,”
I almost come right then because no one has ever spoken to me like this in bed. Hell, no one has ever fucked me like this. The idea of touching myself in bed with a guy seems so foreign that I’m almost embarrassed as I reach down and run my fingers over the place where we’re connected. He slows his relentless pounding when he feels my fingers.
“That’s it,” he mutters, moving deep and slow as I trace my fingers over our joining once more before running them slowly through my folds and to my aching clit. I groan as I trace delicate circles over the sensitive bud, clenching around Miles as he picks the pace up again.
My fingers move faster, keeping rhythm with Miles and pushing me to an ever-nearing peak that I think is going to make the last one look like a fucking speed bump.
I push my head back against Miles, savouring each stroke of my fingers and meeting his thrusts, barrelling towards release so fast I think I might pass out. He groans in my ear, and then he pushes us forward slightly, bringing my knee to rest on the bed so I am almost face down. He moves over me, keeping his weight off me as much as he can as he drives me into the bed. My hand is trapped under me, but I still brush my fingers over my clit, grinding against them as I come ten times harder than the last time.
Miles thrusts into me through my orgasm, chasing it with one of his own and then collapsing on top of me. I would find it funny that I am laid face down, hand stuck under me, knee at a really odd angle, with a guy on top of me, if it weren’t for the fact that all sense has left my body and I’d like very much to just stay in this bed with Miles for the rest of my life, please.