Page 62
Story: Promised (One Night 1)
He helps me, guiding my legs around his back before holding my bum in his palms and pulling me in. ‘I think I’m under obligation to do so.’ He pecks my lips. ‘And I always fulfil my obligations, Olivia Taylor.’
‘Good,’ I breathe, homing in on his lips and lacing my fingers together behind his neck.
‘Hmmm,’ he sighs, swinging his legs off the couch and standing, cradling me against his body like I’m nothing more than a feather. He paces to his bedroom, and when we enter, he takes me straight to his bed and kneels on the end, walking on his knees to the top before turning and resting his back against the headboard, me on his lap.
He leans over and opens the top drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a condom and handing it to me. ‘Put this on me.’
I hate myself for stiffening on his lap. I don’t have the first idea of how to go about putting one on. ‘It’s okay, you can do it.’ I try to look unbothered, rather than scared.
‘But I want you to.’ He pushes me further down his lap, exposing his rigid length and taking hold of it, standing it vertical from his body before handing the foil packet to me. ‘Take it.’
I look at him and he nods reassuringly, so I tentatively reach forward and take it from him.
‘Open,’ he orders. ‘Rest it on top and roll it down gently.’
My hesitance is obvious as I carefully rip the packet open and slide the condom out, fiddling with it in my fingers. Having a silent, stern word with myself, I take a deep breath and follow his instructions, resting the loop over the broad head of his erection.
‘Hold the tip,’ he breathes, lying back and watching intently.
Taking the end between my finger and thumb, I use my other hand to roll the condom down his length until I can roll no more. Again, I’m annoyed at having to conceal him.
‘Nothing to it.’ He smiles up at my concentrating face and pulls me back onto his lap, so far forward that he can raise his knees a little behind me. I’m encouraged to lift up and he takes his arousal to my opening, both of us panting as I lower down. I’m thrown straight into utter ecstasy, immediately holding my breath and pushing my palms into his shoulders.
I whimper as he bucks within me. I’m on top, and I know movement will only happen when I instigate it, but I can’t move yet. I’m completely filled, but then his legs straighten out and he goes deeper. ‘Oh my God!’ I gasp, my arms going straight and rigid against him, my chin dropping to my chest.
‘You’re in control, Livy,’ he breathes. ‘If it hurts, ease up.’
‘It doesn’t hurt.’ I circle my h*ps to demonstrate. ‘Holy shit!’ I’m bombarded by scorching hot shots of pleasure, the friction rubbing my most sensitive spot just right. It prompts me to circle again. ‘It feels good.’ My arms relax and my grip shifts to his face, encasing his cheeks in my palms as I rotate my h*ps around and around, again and again.
I’m urged forward, our foreheads meeting, the passion from both of our eyes colliding. ‘This must be heaven,’ he whispers. ‘There’s no other explanation. Pinch me.’
I don’t pinch him. I lift up and ease down on a firm grind instead, making damn sure he knows that I’m real. My determination is boosting my confidence. The pressure of him filling me is sending me out of my mind, taking me to pleasurable places that I never realised existed. He does this to me, and judging by the constant moans seeping from those lips, I do it to him, too. I pull back, still circling, still grinding, so I can see his face in its entirety. His hair is everywhere, the wayward locks wet on his forehead, the soft curls on his nape flicking out, defined by the dampness. I love it.
He watches me, his lips slightly parted and sweat trailing his temples. ‘What are you thinking?’ he asks me, shifting his hands to my thighs. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m thinking that you only have thirteen hours left.’ I undertake a perfect, overly firm grind as I speak. I’m being cunning, but I’ve lost all of my inhibitions.
His eyes narrow on a slight pout, and then the bastard jolts upwards, knocking my cockiness completely off-kilter. ‘You’ve been here an hour, maximum. I have fifteen hours.’
‘Dinner was two hours.’ I groan, my head becoming heavy, but I’m still relentlessly working him. That luscious warmth is spreading over every inch of my skin, telling me I’m on my way.
‘Dinner doesn’t count.’ He transfers a hand to my hair, combing through with his fingers and finding my nape under the wild, damp strands. ‘I couldn’t touch you during dinner.’
‘You’re making up rules now!’ I blurt. ‘Miller!’
‘Are you going to come, Livy?’
‘Yes! Please don’t say you’re not ready,’ I beg, my legs squeezing against his sides.
‘Fuck, I’m always ready for you.’ He sits up and heads straight for my neck, latching on with his mouth, kissing and biting. ‘Let it go.’
I do. Every muscle constricts and I yell, my head falling back and dangling freely while I shudder around him, my mind a complete fuzz of jumbled thoughts.
‘Jesus!’ he shouts, surprising me, even through my numb, blissed-out state. ‘Livy, you’re pulsing around me.’ He guides my non-responsive body on him. I’m useless, except for the relentless muscles gripping greedily onto Miller inside me.
He cl**axes with a loud groan and an uncontrolled buck of his hips. I’m just swaying in his hold, relying on him to hold me up. ‘You do serious things to me, Olivia Taylor. Serious, serious things. Let me see your face.’ He helps me pull my limp head up, but I don’t stay upright for long, my chest falling forward and forcing him back to the headboard. He doesn’t complain. He lets me burrow into his neck and leaves me to catch my breath. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks with slight amusement in his tone.
Table of Contents
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- Page 62 (Reading here)
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