‘Always.’ I smile and pull away, resting the back of my head against the wall to lose myself in Miller and his wondrous eyes, rather than savour the attention of his addictive mouth.
On a subtle nod, he withdraws slowly, making my eyes flutter and my stomach furl, too many gratifying elements attacking me at once – the feel of him, his worshipping, the sight of him, his smell, his attentiveness, and my favourite wayward curl – all giving me glorious, inexorable pleasure. I brace myself for his advance and when it happens, exact and expertly, a shallow cry of gratification gushes past my lips. I pant, refusing to shut my eyes and miss a moment of his face contorting with heady craving. It sharpens his features. I could pass out just at the sight of him.
‘How does that feel?’ He chokes the words out and retreats again, slipping out almost all the way before tilting his h*ps up, sending him plunging on a shaky exhale of breath.
‘Good.’ I grasp his shoulders and clench my teeth, soaking up each delicious drive. He’s into his stride now, pumping his h*ps continuously, each thrust as controlled and measured as the last.
‘Just good?’
‘Amazing!’ I yelp, catching a dash of friction on my clitoris that sends me wild. ‘Shit!’
‘That’s more like it,’ he muses to himself, repeating the move that had me cursing a second before.
‘Oh God! Oh shit! Miller!’
‘Again?’ he teases, not waiting for the answer he knows I’m going to give, delivering hastily instead.
I’m out of my mind. His rigorous flow is crippling me, but he’s as controlled as ever, watching me fall apart against him. ‘I need to come,’ I breathe, feeling desperation setting in. I need to release all of the day’s stress and trauma on a satisfied moan, maybe even a scream, as I cl**ax.
I bear down onto him when his momentum remains slow and defined, bunching his sodden hair in my fingers. The onslaught of pressure is becoming too much to handle and Miller’s expanding and throbbing length buried deep is a massive relief. He’s close, too.
‘It feels too good, Olivia.’ His eyes clench shut and his h*ps judder forward, pushing me a little closer. I’m teetering on the edge, half my body dangling, waiting for the rest to follow and send me into an abyss of exploding stars.
‘Please,’ I plead, as always never opposed to begging during these moments. ‘Please, please, please!’
‘Bollocks!’ His curse signals his surrender and he pulls back, takes a long, disciplined breath, then fixes me in place with darkening eyes as he surges forward on a harsh shout. ‘Jesus, Olivia!’
My eyes close as my orgasm takes hold, my head going lax but my body rigid as it strives to cope with the flashes of pressure stabbing harshly at the very tip of my sex. I’m pinned against the tiles, our bodies compressed together, vibrating and slipping, and fitful breathing sings around my fuzzy mind. He’s stealing nibbles and sucks of my throat as I pant up to the ceiling, and my arms refuse to play ball any longer, dropping to my sides, my palms slapping against the wall. The only thing holding me in place is Miller’s body. My world has clicked back into place and is turning steadily on its axis, and an intoxicating cocktail of sweat, sex and alcohol is rife, reminding me that he’s still drunk.
‘You okay?’ I wheeze, letting my head drop to bury my nose in his sopping hair. That’s the only action I can muster, leaving my arms hanging lifelessly by my sides.
He shifts and straightens a little, the movement causing his softening length to stroke my inner wall deliciously. ‘How could I not be?’ Pulling his face from my neck, he takes both of my hands and brings them to his lips, pressing them firmly against my knuckles and keeping me pinned to the wall by his body. ‘How could I be anything but blissful when I have you safe in my arms?’
My sated smile of contentment doesn’t encourage one from Miller. He’s content, too, but I don’t need to hear it. I can see it. ‘I love your drunken bones, Miller Hart.’
‘And my drunken bones are deeply fascinated by you, Olivia Taylor.’ He indulges in my mouth for a few blissful moments before gently easing me away from the wall. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ His lovely face is etched with genuine concern as his wobbly gaze travels all over my wet face.
I’m quick to reassure him. ‘You were the perfect gentleman.’
His grin is immediate.
‘What?’
‘I was just thinking how lovely you look in my shower.’
‘You think I look lovely everywhere.’