Unveiled (One Night #3)

‘Earth to Olivia,’ he whispers. I confront his penetrating eyes and watch, totally rapt, my lips parting to give me much needed air, as he blinks lazily. ‘I’ve had a stressful day.’


Join the club, I think as I lift my hand and he takes it. I expect him to bring his body down to me, but I’m pulled from the couch, the woollen throw tumbling to the floor at my feet. He takes my hand around to my back and applies some pressure, pulling me into his chest. We’re touching. Everywhere.

‘Are you ready to de-stress me?’ His hot breath spreads across my cheeks, heating them further. ‘Are you ready for me to take you to that place where nothing exists, only us?’

I nod and let my lids fall shut when his spare hand slides onto the back of my head and his fingers start combing through my hair.

‘Come with me.’ His grip shifts to my nape and I’m turned and led from the room. We only make it halfway up the stairs, and I’m prevented from going any farther when he slides his hands onto my hips and tugs back gently. ‘Brace your hands on a step.’

‘On the stairs?’ I look over my shoulder, seeing nothing but hunger pouring from every sharp edge of his being.

‘On the stairs,’ he confirms, reaching forward to take my hands and guide them to where they need to be. ‘When we’re old and grey, there’ll be nowhere that I haven’t worshipped you, Olivia Taylor. Comfortable?’

I nod my acceptance, hearing the ripping of a foil packet. I use the time it takes Miller to sheathe himself to try and prepare. He’s tracing my back, his delicate touch drifting lightly over every piece of my exposed skin. My breathing is challenged. I’m soaking wet and trembling in anticipation, every troubled thought twisting my mind being chased away under his touch and attention. He is my escape. I am his. This is all I have. His attention and love. It’s the only thing getting me through this.

Flexing my hands on the step and shifting my feet, I drop my head and watch as my hair tumbles to the carpet, and when I feel the hardness of his tip meet my opening, I hold my breath. He spends a few torturous moments circling a palm on my bottom, then tracing the line of my spine before he’s back at my bum, separating my cheeks. My eyes clench tighter still as his finger makes a lazy path over my anal passage, the unaccustomed sensation advancing my shakes. I’m vibrating. My whole body is quivering. His cock is still held against my core, and with the added sensation of his finger teasing my other entrance, I’m left silently begging for penetration. In either place. ‘Miller,’ I breathe, moving my grip to the edge of the step to brace myself.

His soft touch slides down and back up over my passage, pausing over the tight ring of muscle. I tense automatically, and he hushes me as his touch drifts down to my drenched core. I push back, attempting to gain some friction and failing when he withdraws his touch and takes my hips. He advances slowly, stealing my breath as his hard, muscled length slips into me; then he hisses, his grip tightening severely to the point of pain. I whimper, a mixture of unthinkable pleasure and mild pain that throws stars into my darkness. Miller throbs within me and every internal muscle I possess utterly dominates me. I’m a slave to the sensations. I’m a slave to Miller Hart.

‘Move,’ I demand, dragging my limp head up and gazing to the ceiling. ‘Move!’

A sharp inhale resonates from behind me, his fingers flexing on my hips. ‘Becoming quite the demanding lover, aren’t you?’ He remains still, and I attempt to thrust back, but find no benefit, only his hold locking me in place. ‘Savoured, Olivia. We do this my way.’

‘Fuck,’ I whisper hoarsely, searching deep for some calm and control. I’m being held in no-man’s-land, helpless and unable to generate the friction my body needs. ‘You always say you never make me do anything you know I don’t want to.’

‘Huh?’

If I wasn’t so focused on my current desperation, I’d laugh at his genuine confusion.

‘You don’t want to be worshipped?’ he asks.

‘No, I don’t want to be held in limbo!’ There’s no calm to be found anywhere. I’ve given up trying to locate any. ‘Miller, please, just make me feel good.’

‘Oh shit, Olivia!’ He rears back painfully slowly and hovers there, now only a fraction within me. He’s still, but his ragged panting matches mine, and I know he’s struggling to maintain his control. ‘Beg me.’

My teeth grit and I fly back, shouting my satisfaction when he hits me deep and hard.

‘Fuck, Olivia!’ He removes himself, leaving me whimpering quiet pleas. ‘I can’t hear you.’

I feel defeated, my scrambled mind frantically searching for the simple words I need to meet his demand.

‘Beg!’ His shout shocks me, and I feebly attempt to shoot back again. But I’m trapped, helpless in his hold as his tall, powerful frame remains poised behind me, waiting for me to fulfil his harsh request. ‘I’ve asked twice,’ he puffs, his breathing laboured. ‘Listen to me, Olivia.’

‘Please.’

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