Page 17
Story: Mile High Daddy
“Mikhail…” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Say it, Lila,” he urges, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to send sparks shooting down my spine.
I swallow hard, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “I want you,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
His lips crash into mine, and for a moment, the world around us ceases to exist.
There’s no sound, no light, no thought—just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his hands, the way he consumes me like he’s been waiting for this moment as desperately as I have.
I gasp against his lips as his hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer. His other hand slides up my back. My fingers clutch his shoulders instinctively, feeling the hard, taut strength beneath his suit.
The kiss deepens, his tongue sweeping against mine, coaxing, claiming, leaving me breathless and trembling. I feel like I’m on the edge of something dangerous, something I’ll never be able to come back from—and I don’t care.
His lips leave mine, trailing hot, urgent kisses down my jaw and neck. My head tilts back, a soft sound escaping me as he finds the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.
“Mikhail,” I whisper, his name slipping from my lips like a prayer.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and burning with intensity. His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my flushed skin.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low.
I swallow hard, my heart racing as his gaze holds me captive. “Then show me,” I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can think better of them.
The room feels impossibly warm, the soft hum of the city outside fading into nothing as his hands begin to roam. He moves slowly, deliberately, his hands skimming the curve of my waist, the slope of my back, before slipping under the hem of my shirt. His palms are warm against my skin, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through me in waves.
He pulls back, just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and heavy with want. “Lila,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, “if you want me to stop?—”
I shake my head, my breath hitching. “Don’t.”
His lips curve into a faint smirk, but there’s a softness to it, an intensity that makes my pulse race. His hands lift the hem of my shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls it over my head and lets it fall to the floor.
The cool air brushes against my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. He leans back, his eyes sweeping over me, and I feel the flush creeping up my neck, my chest.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice quiet but firm, like a statement of fact.
My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away.
His hands move to my jeans, his fingers deft as he unbuttons them, and we both stand so he can slide them down my legs, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
“You’re trembling,” he says softly, his hands moving to my arms.
“I’m not nervous,” I whisper, though my voice shakes slightly.
He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good,” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
His lips trail down the side of my neck, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of me. He kisses along my collarbone, his hands sliding up my back to unhook my bra, his touch skilled and sure. The straps fall away, and his lips move lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against my skin. When I’m wearing nothing but my underwear, he sweeps me into his arms, carrying me into my bedroom and depositing me onto the bed.
He presses a kiss to my mouth before his hands move to my hips, holding me steady as his lips trail lower, over the curve of my breast, the dip of my stomach, his movements deliberate and intoxicating.
I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders as he kneels between my legs, his lips brushing against the edge of my underwear. He looks up, his gray eyes locking onto mine, and the intensity in his gaze steals the breath from my lungs.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice a low growl.
I can’t speak, can’t think.
His mouth trails over my stomach, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. My breath catches as he reaches the edge of my underwear, and his fingers curl around the waistband, sliding it down my legs in one smooth motion. The cool air against my bare skin heightens every sensation, and a rush of warmth floods my cheeks at the realization that I’m completely exposed to him.
Mikhail’s gaze lifts to mine for a moment, a silent question and a promise in his eyes. I nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the intense desire coursing through me. He presses his lips to the inside of my thigh, soft and slow, sending pulses of pleasure straight through my body.
“Say it, Lila,” he urges, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to send sparks shooting down my spine.
I swallow hard, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “I want you,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
His lips crash into mine, and for a moment, the world around us ceases to exist.
There’s no sound, no light, no thought—just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his hands, the way he consumes me like he’s been waiting for this moment as desperately as I have.
I gasp against his lips as his hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer. His other hand slides up my back. My fingers clutch his shoulders instinctively, feeling the hard, taut strength beneath his suit.
The kiss deepens, his tongue sweeping against mine, coaxing, claiming, leaving me breathless and trembling. I feel like I’m on the edge of something dangerous, something I’ll never be able to come back from—and I don’t care.
His lips leave mine, trailing hot, urgent kisses down my jaw and neck. My head tilts back, a soft sound escaping me as he finds the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.
“Mikhail,” I whisper, his name slipping from my lips like a prayer.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and burning with intensity. His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my flushed skin.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low.
I swallow hard, my heart racing as his gaze holds me captive. “Then show me,” I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can think better of them.
The room feels impossibly warm, the soft hum of the city outside fading into nothing as his hands begin to roam. He moves slowly, deliberately, his hands skimming the curve of my waist, the slope of my back, before slipping under the hem of my shirt. His palms are warm against my skin, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through me in waves.
He pulls back, just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and heavy with want. “Lila,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, “if you want me to stop?—”
I shake my head, my breath hitching. “Don’t.”
His lips curve into a faint smirk, but there’s a softness to it, an intensity that makes my pulse race. His hands lift the hem of my shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls it over my head and lets it fall to the floor.
The cool air brushes against my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. He leans back, his eyes sweeping over me, and I feel the flush creeping up my neck, my chest.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice quiet but firm, like a statement of fact.
My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away.
His hands move to my jeans, his fingers deft as he unbuttons them, and we both stand so he can slide them down my legs, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
“You’re trembling,” he says softly, his hands moving to my arms.
“I’m not nervous,” I whisper, though my voice shakes slightly.
He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good,” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
His lips trail down the side of my neck, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of me. He kisses along my collarbone, his hands sliding up my back to unhook my bra, his touch skilled and sure. The straps fall away, and his lips move lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against my skin. When I’m wearing nothing but my underwear, he sweeps me into his arms, carrying me into my bedroom and depositing me onto the bed.
He presses a kiss to my mouth before his hands move to my hips, holding me steady as his lips trail lower, over the curve of my breast, the dip of my stomach, his movements deliberate and intoxicating.
I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders as he kneels between my legs, his lips brushing against the edge of my underwear. He looks up, his gray eyes locking onto mine, and the intensity in his gaze steals the breath from my lungs.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice a low growl.
I can’t speak, can’t think.
His mouth trails over my stomach, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. My breath catches as he reaches the edge of my underwear, and his fingers curl around the waistband, sliding it down my legs in one smooth motion. The cool air against my bare skin heightens every sensation, and a rush of warmth floods my cheeks at the realization that I’m completely exposed to him.
Mikhail’s gaze lifts to mine for a moment, a silent question and a promise in his eyes. I nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the intense desire coursing through me. He presses his lips to the inside of my thigh, soft and slow, sending pulses of pleasure straight through my body.
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