Milo casually grabs my arm to stop me. He continues to watch me with a dead expression in his eyes as he puts the glass down.
I see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Towering over me with his six-foot frame, he suddenly looks monstrous in comparison to my smaller frame. My legs feel heavy under his intense gaze and a familiar panic looms in the air.
“You look beautiful today,” Milo’s voice is low, his eyes further dropping to my collarbone.
I give my arm an experimental tug, and shockingly manage to free it. I quickly step towards the open door, but Milo reaches for my arm again to halt my escape.
He misses his hold and instead grabs the strap of my dress. The impact of my quick move, coupled with his hold, rips my strap, taking with it a portion of the fabric. The tear exposes my entire décolleté area, which he always identified as his favorite area of smooth skin.
“Milo, what are you doing?” I scream.
Staying silent as a mime, Milo wraps one arm around my waist while the other grazes my naked skin.
“So beautiful,” he finally whispers.
His dead eyes give away the hunger behind his dilated pupils. He looks like he wants to gorge on my skin.
Milo’s hypnotized gaze never leaves my décolleté area as he continues to run his fingers over the skin.
My eyes dart to the door. The two bedrooms are across the kitchen. I am guessing both rooms are locked if they are taking showers in their respective bathrooms.
I have been pretty loud in my protests and neither of them have come out, which means that they can’t hear me.
Milo swiftly removes more of the torn material for more access till I find myself bare-chested. He grabs my wrists next and presses his lips onto mine.
Milo leans in further to inhale deeply, as if he is trying to inhale my soul, before lifting me up on the table directly behind me.
As a last resort, I start flailing my limbs to hit him and ward him off.
“Don’t baby,” he whispers. “You didn’t fight last night. Don’t start fighting me again.”
“Milo, please stop—”
“I need to touch you.”
“You mean youwantto touch me? You are so selfish—”
“No, Rave. It’s not only that I want you. It’s always a need with you. I can’t even breathe till I touch you. Don’t you remember last night? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I woke up. Why would you start to fight me again if you already gave in last night?”
“I was drunk, you asshole.”
I bat his hand away, but a large hand on my stomach pushes me down to lie flat back on the hard surface.
His hands grab my thighs, pulling my hip forward till my back hits the desk, which is when I see Milo sitting down on a chair between my spread legs.
“I bet I can make you scream just as loud when you are sober too.”
Right as he slides my thong down my legs and his tongue hits my cunt, doors start to creak. My eyes widen when I hear Alexa and Brandon’s unmistakable voices.
Before I was worried about not being able to reach them. Now, the thought of Alexa and Brandon barging in to find this scene is more abhorrent.
I lift my head to look at Milo who lifts his own lids to meet my eyes, all the while finding the spot that will unravel me.
Milo ignores the distraction, slides two fingers inside me, and presses his tongue down. I struggle in his grip, shaking my head at him to communicate not to do this in front of them.
“Don’t hold back,” he mumbles against my pussy. “You’re giving me that orgasm. Don’t worry aboutthem. I could fuck you in front of the world, and you’d still come every time.”
His fingers seek out my G spot. I try to muffle my sounds by pressing both of my hands down on my mouth. My toes curl, and I clench my limbs to find a semblance of control to restrain the moan that threatens to rip through me.