He brings his lips to my neck and pulls me onto his lap. Then his hands are on my boxers, well, his boxers. He pulls them to my knees.
"Miles… you can't… don't tease me…"
"Me, tease? Never." He sinks his teeth into my neck and pulls the boxers off my hips.
"I don't care about a movie."
"I know."
He strokes my inner thighs with a light touch. He gets closer, closer, closer. I throw my head back and relax my body into his. Movies are stupid. Movies are so much less amazing than this.
I lift my arms and Miles pulls my t-shirt, his t-shirt, over my head. I'm on his lap, naked, in the middle of the living room, the stupid TV still waiting for my movie selection.
No way in hell I'm selecting a movie now.
He grabs my wrist and plants my hands on the couch, right outside his thighs. His lips find my neck again. He sucks on my skin. Desire spreads to my limbs.
He can tease me all he wants if it's going to end like this.
I press my palms into the couch. I'm his plaything, and I'm not about to object to this performance.
He strokes my thighs with a light touch, getting closer, and closer, and closer. He's an inch away from my sex.
He draws zigzags over my thigh with his fingertips. My body hums with desire. Miles's touch is everything I need. The only thing I need.
"I've never cared less about a movie," I say.
"I know."
His breath is warm on my neck, my ear. He sucks on my lobe again. The pressure is intense, and every motion of his tongue sends another shockwave of pleasure through me.
Miles can't give me anything more than sex, but, my God, can he give me sex.
"Touch me," I breathe.
"Good things come to those who wait."
"I hat
e waiting."
"I know." He sinks his teeth into my neck again just enough to feel amazing. His fingers skim my sex. "Fuck, Meg, how do you get so wet?"
"You."
He groans and sinks his teeth into my neck again. Finally, his fingertips skim my clit. Oh. Hell. Yes. His touch sends sparks through my body. It takes everything I have not to pant.
I arch my back, rocking my hips to press myself against his hand. He strokes me with slow, steady attention. His touch is light and delicate, and every part of me is desperate for him. I can't contain my breath. I can't do anything but surrender to the sensation.
He sinks his teeth into my neck. It's harder now, and every bite amplifies the pleasure building inside me. His touch gets harder, faster, rougher. He rubs my clit with long strokes, his fingers skimming my sex.
He slides a finger inside me. I gasp. It's exactly what I need. Then it's two fingers.
I arch my back to push him deeper. He presses his free hand against my chest, holding my body against his, by back against his chest.
The pressure builds. Almost. It's intense. I didn't think my body had anything left, but I'm almost there again. I take a sharp breath, soaking in the sound of his groans, the feel of his cotton t-shirt against my back.
I'm naked on his lap. I'm about to come. He has all the cards, and I don't give a damn. As long as he keeps touching me, keeps making me feel this good.