‘Do what?’ he whispers, blowing a cool stream of air across my pulsing core, the chill of his breath mixed with my flaming skin making me shudder.
‘This,’ I gasp, mindlessly grappling at the side of the bath and crying out when he punishes me with a precise set of soft nips with his teeth, slow rotations with his tongue and firm drives of his fingers. ‘And that!’ The power of the spasms bolting through me is sending my body into muscle meltdown as I try my hardest to remain relatively still in the water.
My eyes open and I take a few moments to allow my vision to clear until my sight is distorted again, simply because of what I’m faced with: indescribable flawlessness – a pureness in his eyes that I only ever see when he’s worshipping me and his dark hair that’s on the verge of being too long, the soft flicks curling out from behind his ears.
Despite my restrained fever, he’s cool, calm and collected as he gazes back at me, never ceasing the motions that bring me so much pleasure. ‘You mean like if this was for ever,’ he murmurs, ‘then you’d be happy with that.’
I nod, hoping he’s agreeing with me and not just trying to vocalise my thoughts.
He doesn’t confirm my silent wondering with words, instead returning his attention to the screaming nerves between my thighs. His face buried there and his eyes looking up at me is the most sensual vision I’m ever likely to see. Yet I can’t help closing my eyes as I prepare for the onslaught of pressure that’s set to blow my mind.
‘Don’t stop,’ I breathe, begging for more insane, torturous pleasure. He’s moving all of a sudden, the water splashing crazily around us as he crawls up my body and seals our mouths, his tongue caressing me in time to the wicked thrusts of his fingers, his thumb working firm circles on my throbbing clitoris.
My hands grip his wet shoulders, holding on for dear life, his strength the only thing preventing me from slipping under the water. I’m a little fevered, but Miller keeps things steady and controlled, despite my moans of desperation.
And then it happens.
The explosion.
The release of a million lightning bolts that force me to break our kiss and hide my face in his neck as my body tries to deal with the blitz of pleasure. He’s quiet as he helps my trembling body settle. His only movements are of his fingers circling deeply and his thumb resting lightly on my twitching mass of nerves, easing the persistent, sharp throbs.
‘I thought that I was supposed to de-stress you,’ I wheeze, not willing to release my hold – not ever.
‘Livy, you have.’
‘By you worshipping me?’
‘Yes, a little, but mostly by just letting me be with you.’ He sits up, taking me with him, and pulls me onto his lap. My heavy, wet hair is arranged just so, and his palms wrap around the tops of my arms, holding me firmly. ‘You’re so beautiful.’
I feel my skin heat, and I drop my eyes, a little embarrassed.
‘I’m paying you a compliment, Livy,’ he whispers, pulling my eyes back up.
‘Thank you.’
He smiles a little and shifts his hands to my waist, his eyes journeying over every visible part of my body. I watch him closely as he slowly drops his lips to my breast and kisses it tenderly, and then he starts trailing his finger over every part of me, so lightly I sometimes can’t feel it. He inhales a deep, thoughtful breath and lets it out, his head tilting a little to the side, adding to his thoughtfulness. ‘Every time I touch you,’ he whispers, ‘I feel I need to do it with the utmost care.’
‘Why?’ I ask quietly, a little perplexed.
He takes another long pull of air and turns his eyes to me, blinking slowly. ‘Because I’m frightened you might turn to dust.’
His admission chokes me. ‘I won’t turn to dust.’
‘You might,’ he murmurs. ‘What would I do?’ His eyes scan my face, and I’m shocked to see nothing but complete seriousness, maybe even a little fear.
Guilt tells me I shouldn’t, but I can’t help feeling quietly happy by his question. He’s falling, too, just as hard as I am. I embrace his uncertainty and cuddle him tightly, locking my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, like I’m trying to squeeze some reassurance into him. ‘I’m only going away if you send me,’ I say, because I think that’s what he means. I couldn’t possibly turn to dust.
‘There’s something I’d like to share with you.’
‘What?’ I ask, remaining where I am with my face stuck to his neck.
‘Let’s get washed and I’ll show you.’ He reaches behind his neck and pulls my arms away, forcing me to vacate my comfort zone. ‘You’ll be the first.’
‘First?’
‘The first person to see.’ He’s turning me in his arms, therefore turning my inquisitive face away, too.
‘See?’
His chin rests on my shoulder. ‘I love your curiosity.’
‘You make me curious,’ I accuse, pushing my cheek onto his lips. ‘What are you going to show me?’