‘I love your punishments,’ he mumbles, twisting onto his side and pulling me closer to his chest, still kissing me and still feeling me everywhere. ‘Stay with me tonight.’
I’m the one who severs the contact, my lips stinging and swollen. His dark stubble is always so prickly and coarse, but familiar and comforting. I run my palm down his cheek and watch his lips as they part when my thumb drags across them. ‘I don’t want to stay just one night,’ I murmur. My eyes reluctantly climb his nose until I’m staring into blue circles of understanding.
‘I want you to stay for ever,’ he replies softly, following up his words with a hard push of his lips on mine. ‘I need to put you in my bed.’ He untangles us from the sofa and picks me up, resuming his kiss as I lie across his arms and he carries me to his bedroom.
‘Do you know how you make me feel?’ he asks, placing me gently down and encouraging me to turn onto my front.
‘Yes.’ I turn my face into the pillow when he begins a slow, delicate flick of his tongue up the column of my spine, finishing with a soft kiss on my shoulder blade.
The hard head of his erection teases my opening, making my arse lift fractionally to urge him on. ‘Thank God I have you again.’ He sinks into me on a harsh pull of breath, then holds still, trying to regain control of his breathing. I bite at the pillow, moaning quietly. The hardness of his torso is pressing into my back, pushing me into the mattress, and my fists are balling into the sheets. ‘You’ve taken the only resilient part of me and annihilated it, Livy,’ he whispers hoarsely, performing an easy grind of his hips.
I turn my heated face back outwards when I feel his lips at my ear and find dark lashes framing sparkling blue eyes. ‘I don’t want to take anything. I want you to give it to me.’
He retreats slowly and pushes forward firmly, again and again, drawing constant moans of pleasure each and every time. ‘What do you want me to give you?’
‘What’s the most resilient part of you?’ I groan the words through an excruciatingly deep thrust.
‘My heart, Livy. My heart is the most resilient part of me.’ He loses control momentarily and bucks forward on a bark.
My chest swells at his admission. ‘Let me see you.’ I wriggle under his body. ‘Please, I need to see you properly.’
‘Fucking hell,’ he curses, and quickly slips out of me, allowing me to spin over and grab at his shoulders before he quickly re-enters me, pounding forward uncontrolled. ‘Livy!’ he shouts, pushing his torso up on his arms. He holds still, panting and staring down at me. ‘I’m petrified of you.’
I tilt my h*ps up, making him drop his chin to his chest, his waves falling forward as he does. ‘I’m scared of you, too,’ I whisper. ‘Terrified.’
He lifts his eyes and circles his hips. ‘I’m an emotion virgin, Livy. You’re my first.’
‘What are you saying?’ I ask quietly.
He goes to speak, then seems to think better of it, his eyes darting all over my face. ‘I’ve fallen, Olivia Taylor,’ he whispers.
I bite down on my bottom lip to prevent a sob slipping free. That’s the only thing that matters. ‘You fascinate me,’ I counter. I’m reaffirming my feeling, making it known that nothing has changed. I’ve wasted too much precious time pushing him away – time that I could have been helping him and making myself stronger.
He drops to his forearms and starts pumping his h*ps slowly, carrying me further into rapture. ‘Please don’t drop me,’ he breathes.
I shake my head and feel the back of his head out, meeting each one of his advances with matching thrusts of my hips. I don’t know what’s happening, but I do know that my feelings are profound. And now they’ve only been strengthened.
‘I’ve been saved by a gorgeous, sweet girl,’ he whispers, gazing down at me. ‘She makes my heart quicken and my senses slow.’
I close my eyes, letting him drive on, the perfection of this moment tearing at my soul.
‘I’m going to come,’ he gasps, ‘Olivia!’
My eyes snap open, my body squirming under his hard physique. His pace has advanced, along with my pleasure. Our bodies are locked together, as are our eyes, and the connection remains intact until we both whimper as our cl**axes take hold in unison and both of us go rigid, gasping into each other’s faces. A strange sensation floods me. Literally. My insides are warm, feeling good. Too good.
‘You’re not wearing a condom,’ I say quietly.
Recognition dawns on his perfect face, his gentle drives halting too abruptly. He thinks hard for a few moments before he eventually speaks. ‘I guess I’m not the gentleman I claim to be.’
I shouldn’t smile, given the serious situation, but I do. Miller’s unusual show of humour, even if it’s inappropriate, makes it impossible not to. ‘You have a dry humour.’
He pushes into me, deep and high, his semi-hard-on stroking me, reminding me of the rightness of his bareness. ‘There’s nothing dry about our current condition.’