Page 49
Story: Mile High Daddy
“So are you.”
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t look away.
I lean forward, closing the space between us, my forearm resting against the seat beside her. “Tell me,kiska,” I murmur, voice low and smooth. “Are you still trying to convince yourself you hate me?”
Her breath catches. Then, she does something unexpected.
She leans in too.
I see it in her eyes before it happens—that brief flicker of surrender. The moment she lets herself forget who I am, forget why she should resist.
Then she grabs the front of my suit and pulls me to her.
Our mouths crash together in a heated, desperate kiss. I growl against her lips, my hands sliding to her waist, gripping hertightly as she presses into me. She’s soft, so damn soft, but the way she kisses me isn’t.
It’s wild. Demanding. Like she’s starving for this.
Like I am.
Her hands slip into my hair, fingers twisting, nails dragging against my scalp. My control snaps. I push her back against the leather seat, my body pressing into hers, my thigh slipping between her legs. She moans into my mouth, her hips shifting instinctively, pressing against me.
Fuck.
I break the kiss just long enough to drag my lips down the curve of her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin. Her head tilts back, giving me access, giving me everything.
“You drive me insane,” I mutter against her throat, my hand sliding up her thigh beneath the silk of her dress.
She gasps, her body arching. “Then do something about it.”
“I don’t want to ruin you in my car,” I say.
She scowls at me. "You sound like a grandfather."
"If I was your grandfather, you wouldn’t be moaning my name like that, kiska," I growl dragging her onto my lap.
I do.
I kiss her harder, deeper, swallowing every sound she makes as my fingers trail higher, my palm pressing against the heat between her legs. She shudders, gripping my shoulders, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants.
I want her.
Right here. Right now.
Lila fists my shirt, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine with a desperation that matches my own. I groan against her lips as my hands slide up her sides, feeling the smooth silk of her dress until my palms find the soft weight of her tits.
She gasps into my mouth, her back arching, pushing herself into my hands as I squeeze, rolling my thumbs over her hardened nipples through the thin fabric.
“Fuck,” she breathes, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I yank down the straps of her dress, exposing her completely. My mouth moves from her lips to her throat, kissing, biting, trailing lower—until I take a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. She whimpers, her fingers tugging at my hair, her thighs pressing together as she squirms beneath me.
“You like that?” I murmur against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before switching to the other, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.
She doesn’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, she tilts her hips up, rubbing against me, seeking. I smirk against her skin, my hand sliding down her stomach, slipping beneath the fabric of her dress. When my fingers brush over the lace of her panties, she shudders.
“You’re soaked,” I murmur darkly, pushing the fabric aside. “All for me,kiska?”
She doesn’t get the chance to answer before I slide a finger into her slick heat. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body clenches around me.
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t look away.
I lean forward, closing the space between us, my forearm resting against the seat beside her. “Tell me,kiska,” I murmur, voice low and smooth. “Are you still trying to convince yourself you hate me?”
Her breath catches. Then, she does something unexpected.
She leans in too.
I see it in her eyes before it happens—that brief flicker of surrender. The moment she lets herself forget who I am, forget why she should resist.
Then she grabs the front of my suit and pulls me to her.
Our mouths crash together in a heated, desperate kiss. I growl against her lips, my hands sliding to her waist, gripping hertightly as she presses into me. She’s soft, so damn soft, but the way she kisses me isn’t.
It’s wild. Demanding. Like she’s starving for this.
Like I am.
Her hands slip into my hair, fingers twisting, nails dragging against my scalp. My control snaps. I push her back against the leather seat, my body pressing into hers, my thigh slipping between her legs. She moans into my mouth, her hips shifting instinctively, pressing against me.
Fuck.
I break the kiss just long enough to drag my lips down the curve of her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin. Her head tilts back, giving me access, giving me everything.
“You drive me insane,” I mutter against her throat, my hand sliding up her thigh beneath the silk of her dress.
She gasps, her body arching. “Then do something about it.”
“I don’t want to ruin you in my car,” I say.
She scowls at me. "You sound like a grandfather."
"If I was your grandfather, you wouldn’t be moaning my name like that, kiska," I growl dragging her onto my lap.
I do.
I kiss her harder, deeper, swallowing every sound she makes as my fingers trail higher, my palm pressing against the heat between her legs. She shudders, gripping my shoulders, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants.
I want her.
Right here. Right now.
Lila fists my shirt, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine with a desperation that matches my own. I groan against her lips as my hands slide up her sides, feeling the smooth silk of her dress until my palms find the soft weight of her tits.
She gasps into my mouth, her back arching, pushing herself into my hands as I squeeze, rolling my thumbs over her hardened nipples through the thin fabric.
“Fuck,” she breathes, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I yank down the straps of her dress, exposing her completely. My mouth moves from her lips to her throat, kissing, biting, trailing lower—until I take a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. She whimpers, her fingers tugging at my hair, her thighs pressing together as she squirms beneath me.
“You like that?” I murmur against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before switching to the other, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.
She doesn’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, she tilts her hips up, rubbing against me, seeking. I smirk against her skin, my hand sliding down her stomach, slipping beneath the fabric of her dress. When my fingers brush over the lace of her panties, she shudders.
“You’re soaked,” I murmur darkly, pushing the fabric aside. “All for me,kiska?”
She doesn’t get the chance to answer before I slide a finger into her slick heat. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body clenches around me.
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