Page 49 of Till The Cows Come Home
One of Miles’ hands cupped my ass while the other gripped the top of the stall and as he leaned forward, I could feel his cock brush along my entrance. I tried to arch into him, eager to feel the fullness of him inside me, but his grip on my ass kept me pinned to the wall, forcing me to be patient. When I was no longer applying pressure against him, he leaned forward, rewarding me with his tip, which he dragged through the wetness he’d created. My moans echoed as he glided his dick against my clit over and over, the friction threatening to make me come before he was even inside me. I didn’t care though, I would shamelessly allow him to finish me however he pleased.
Miles must have sensed how close I was because he stilled, allowing me an unwanted break as he lined himself up to me, and I gasped as he began inching inside me bit by bit until his full length was buried inside me.
The mixture of him filling me along with the cold air on my bare chest threatened to put me over the edge, which only intensified as he began rocking, gradually increasing his tempo while delivering long, even strokes. Miles leaned in, resuming our kiss, consuming my mouth with his tongue, and as I came close to the edge again, I pulled away, desperate to see his face as he claimed me.
I opened my eyes, unaware I’d involuntarily shut them, and when I glanced at Miles’ face, I couldn’t hold back any longer. All the self control he’d encompassed these last few weeks had dissolved, instead replaced with unguarded passion,and something about seeing him truly undone sent me over the edge. My climax spilled over, his name a whimper on my lips as the waves of my orgasm came crashing into me. I could feel myself constricting around Miles’ cock and as I cried out his name again, I felt the spasms of his own release inside me.
We caught our breaths for a moment, the thunders of our hearts filling the silence of the space.
“You’re perfect,” I whispered, pressing my forehead firmly against his own.
“You’re the light, Sage. In the darkest of nights, you’re the stars, and in the brightest days, you’re the sun. I don’t know how you do it, but you make everything,” he stumbled on his words for a moment before whispering, “better.”
He loosened his grip, allowing me to slide along his body until I was back standing on my own feet. And as he let go of my hips, he trailed his fingers along my arms, looping the straps of my dress with his fingers to gently pull them back up my shoulders. Once I was wrapped back up in the blanket, he gave me a quick squeeze, fumbling through the fabric until he found my hand, lacing his fingers with my own. I didn’t look back as he led me through the barn, content with wherever I was being guided as long as I was with him.
We walked slowly towards the house that had come to feel more and more like home again, and as we entered through the doors, Miles guided me towards the kitchen.
“Still have room for dessert?” he smirked.
“How about we skip the bananas foster and settle for ice cream?” I suggested, eager to just be with him.
Although I loved these grand gestures, cooking took time and I was feeling selfish. He seemed to understand, pulling two unlabeled pints from the freezer while I grabbed spoons. When he headed towards his bedroom with his haul, I shook my head, laughing at his obsession with eating in his bed.
“Tell me what’s better than eating your favorite food inthe most comfortable spot in your house?” he joked, and he was right.
There was some elevated level of comfort for him, and I was just happy that he thought I was a worthy addition to the routine. We traded spoons for pints and as I savored the first bite of rich vanilla, I thought to myself that he was right, there wasn’t much better than this.
I woke up, squinting from the brightness that was flooding through the partially cracked curtains, and I couldn’t help but revel in Miles’ words as I woke.
I was the light.
After a few kisses along Miles’ jaw, I tiptoed to the drapes, hoping to catch the sunrise. But when I opened them, I wasn’t met with the yellow and red swirls of dawn.
Instead my morning began with a sea of angry orange flames.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Miles
Ibolted upright to the sound of Sage’s screams, my feet hitting the floor before my brain understood what was happening. It took a few moments to process, and only when my brain accepted there was no physical harm to Sage did I notice the inferno blazing amongst the darkness outside. Time stood still as I took in Sage’s face, desperately searching it for information as the silhouettes of flames danced along the walls behind us. When the silence became deafening, she broke her gaze, disappearing from my room without a word.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I panicked, rummaging around until I found my phone, and as I dialed 911, I followed Sage towards the door.
She was pulling on her boots and as I bent to don my own next to her, not bothering to tie my own laces, she sprinted out of the threshold without me.
“Sage!” I screamed, panic saturating my voice.
I popped my phone on speaker, sliding it into my chest pocket before running after her, my long strides catching up with her as she was about to run into the burning barn. Not a thought about her own safety, not a moment spent to strategize,not a second to mourn the things she would leave behind. I commended her commitment and could mirror her love for the things at stake, but the only tangible emotion I had was anger.
“Let go of me!” she screamed as I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards me as debris began to fall. Fear flickered across her eyes as the structure crumpled into where she had been standing moments ago.
“No Sage! Look around you. You can’t be the hero right now.”
“We can’t leave them,” she yelled back, her voice cracking into small sobs, and as I followed her gaze, the heartbreaking realization of the situation hit me square in the face.
They were trapped.
Each exit of the barn was secured with a simple metal gate, but it was enough to block the escape of every living thing inside the barn. Attempting to think with Sage struggling in my grasp was impossible, and I begged my brain to reason as I scoured the outlining property for a way to minimize the damage. I would take anything if it meant I didn’t lose everything, and I rejoiced when my gaze fell on the woodpile.
