He stares at me like he loves me.
I close my eyes and press my lips into his. Soft. Sweet. Perfect. Or, it would be, if this whole situation weren't so hopelessly fucked.
He holds me close, shifting into me with a steady rhythm. His lips stay on mine. His tongue explores my mouth. It's gentle and delicate, like he wants more of me.
I kiss him back. I swirl my tongue around his. I rub my body against his. The pleasure builds in that same soft, slow way, until it's too much to take.
Miles breaks the kiss. He stares into my eyes, runs his hand through my hair. His pupils dilate. His fingers dig into my skin.
"Meg…" It's a soft g
roan, but it's filled with desire.
He keeps things slow. My sex clenches. More. More. More. It feels like it's going on forever, like it's never going to stop.
I press my lips into his, kissing him harder. But, still, he stays slow. He rocks into me. He holds me close.
The pressure inside me builds. More. More. More. It's so much. It's too much. An orgasm wells up in me. I moan into his mouth. More. I still need more. I kiss him harder, hold him closer.
Pleasure rocks through me, all the way to my fingers and toes. But I'm greedy, and I still want more.
I dig my hands into his hair. I squeeze my thighs against his. I rock my hips to meet him.
Miles groans into my mouth. His fingers dig into my skin. He thrusts ever so slightly harder. Pleasure wells up in me again. It's faster this time, more intense.
He breaks the kiss. Stares into my eyes. Nervous energy passes through me. He's inside me. I'm about to come. But the way he's staring at me… I've got no clue what it means.
I stare back. I dig my nails into his shoulders.
Pleasure floods my body. I can't fight it anymore. I cry out as an orgasm spills through me, mixing up all the feelings inside me, so I'm half in ecstasy, half in hell.
He holds me tightly, thrusting into me with that same perfect rhythm. I hold his gaze, groaning as another orgasm builds.
He moans, still holding me tightly, still thrusting into me. A shudder runs through his body. Almost. His teeth sink into his lip.
Still, he moves with that same rhythm, slow and steady. He shakes, harder, harder.
His eyes stay glued to mine. I watch his face contorting. His breath gets heavier. His groans get lower, louder. He squeezes my hips. There. His eyes roll back as he comes.
He rocks into me one last time, and he fills me.
It sends me over the edge again. For a few moments, everything else fades away. I only feel the pleasure coursing through my fingers and toes. I only feel good.
My resolve fades. I collapse my body onto his, trying hard to hold onto everything that feels good.
Miles relaxes into the seat. He squeezes me tighter, holds my body against his.
His heart is pounding against his chest, against my chest. His breath is in my hair. This means something, I'm sure of it. But I've got no clue what that something is.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I wake up alone. No one is home. Dad is at work. No telling where Mom is. Probably, she's as uncomfortable in this house as I am.
There isn't a peep on my phone. No telling where Miles is either.
I eat breakfast with the TV. Even with two hundred channels, there's nothing that can tear my attention away from him. Wherever he is. Whatever he's doing.
I fix a cup of coffee. A second. A third. My mouth goes dry. My fingers shake. It's a lot of caffeine, but it's a nice enough buzz—probably the most pleasant thing I'll feel all day.