Page 97 of Tourist Trap

I’ve never done that. Never even felt the vaguest desire to. But right now? With his thumb gently pressing there, with his breathing getting heavier?

I wanteverything. Whatever he’ll give me.

“You want my cock here one day, baby?” he asks, the question almost entertained.

I nod frantically into the bed, my hips trying to move up, to get whatever I can. I’m so lost in a cloud of another orgasm I know will swallow me whole.

“Yes, yes,” I breathe out, my hips still fucking him though the movements are stilted, no longer able to keep up any semblance of a rhythm.

He slaps my ass with his free hand, and I scream his name out as his thumb presses just a bit harder against my asshole.

“God, I wanna take that,” he says as if to himself.

“Yes, please, fuck.” I want everything—anything—in this moment.

A dark chuckle leaves his lips, though it sounds strained with the same need coursing through me.

“No, no. Not today. We have to get you nice and ready first. Work up to it.”

I lose the pressure, and I groan at the loss, but then I hear him spit, it lands on my ass before his thumb is back, rubbing the wetness in and pressing on my asshole. I moan at the pressure of him against me in this new way and the way he groans in response. My hips move back, both onto his cock and the thumb against me, the tip sliding in.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he says as his thumb continues sliding into my ass. It’s tight and feels foreign, but he moves slowly, my body accepting every inch he gives me. When his finger is all the way inside, his palm against my lower back, I moan deep and uncontrolled, my hips bucking. I’m full, and the stimulation on both of my holes is too much.

“Fuck, Miles, fuck,” I whimper, my hips moving frantically. The sound turns into a shriek as both his cock and thumb shift out, then back in, fucking me.

“The hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he moans, sliding his hips back until just the tip of his cock is still inside. Then, he slams back in, filling me, and pressing his thumb in deeper. He repeats that same move again and again, each time his thumb moving inside me with the rhythm of him fucking me, my hips bucking back to get more, to get deeper, to come around him.

“Fuck, Claire, you gotta get there soon,” he groans through gritted teeth like he too is teetering on the edge and needs me to fall first. “Claire.”

That last small plea of my name is what does it. I tip my hips back to get him in as deep as I can, my chest collapsing further into the bed as he slams in, and I come, hard.

His thumb presses in deeper, and it somehow intensifies my orgasm, stars shooting behind my eyes. Sound fades away as the world shifts to nothing but colors and feelings, pleasure washing over me. His loud moan fills the room before I feel him throbbing in me, spilling his cum into me, hips bucking to get just a bit deeper.

When I fall asleep after we clean up, I do it completely exhausted and utterly happy.

* * *

“I wish I had something like that,” Miles whispers in the quiet of the dark. He rolled off me eventually after we both caught our breath, cleaning himself before coming back with another wet washcloth to clean me up as he loves to do. Then he dragged me into the shower with him, where he cleaned me up before he dried me off and helped get my tired body into bed.

That’s where I am now, curled around him.

I turn to look at him, confused. “What?”

“What you have here. A tight-knit family. Siblings who care about one another. Family dinners. Everyone is hanging out together.” Silence fills the room as I wait for him to continue, knowing he has more to say on the topic. “My mom and my grandmother did great, did what they could, but they had to make ends meet. They were always working, always busy.”

It reminds me of the man himself and makes me wonder just how much of his inability to slow down and enjoy life is something that has been ingrained into him.

“And, of course, there’s Paul. You have your sisters and Nate, and I know some of it is because you’re the youngest, but there’s…camaraderie with you four. Even when you fight, you get over it; you support each other. Respect each other.”

After dinner and Pictionary, and after dad talked to me, both Nate and Sloane came and found me, apologizing even though I told them it wasn’t necessary, that I understood. It’s what we do, and I never thought to take it for granted, but seeing it from his viewpoint, I see how one could envy that.

But I also realize then that Miles doesn’t see it.

“You do, Miles. It just looks different,” I tell him gently.

“No, I don’t,” he says with a scoff. Then I untangle myself from him, shifting to look at him better, seeing that he actually means it.

“You’re out of your mind if you don’t realize what a family you have.”

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