Page 41 of Act Like You Don't Care
His cock looked amazing. I wrapped my hand around it and nearly moaned with excitement.
Miles’s arm found its way around my waist again, his fingers working their way down inside my trunks. “Last chance to back out,” he whispered against the side of my neck, his voice a deep rumble that sent electric trails of impatience down the length of my body.
I stroked the heated length of him, then hooked a thumb in my waistband and pulled my underwear out of the way. “Get in the bed.” The cloth hit the floor and I was free to rub myself against him with all the abandon I was capable of mustering. Which was a lot right now.
Bed. I needed him on the bed. Quickly, I kissed him, then shoved and tugged at different parts of his body—even that one—until I could push him over onto his back and climb on top of him. “Any last requests?”
That humor of his peeked out. “I surrender. Do your worst.”
“My worst?” I demanded, hands on my hips. “Ungrateful, that’s what you are.” I reached between us, lined him up, then plunged down over him like a hawk hunting.
Yes, that was what I’d been wanting. Miles’s sudden gasp of shock, the feel of his cock stretching me out, the heat of him climbing up the center of my being. I let all my weight come to bear on his hips, forcing him as deep as I could inside. My hands hooked under his thighs and I used the leverage to try to force us closer together. My eyes closed of their own accord, bright sparkles behind the lids as I bathed in the sweet, sweet feel of him beneath and inside of me.
Miles’s hands closed about my waist, adding his strength to mine, pushing his hips against my weight. I appreciated the assistance but there was only so far to go before we were trying for that two bodies in one space thing, and I needed a bit of freedom of movement for the next thing I wanted to do to him.
I spread my knees wider and leaned down to play with the muscles of his chest, to run my hands over those amazing biceps and smile at him like I wanted to eat him. Which I might do later, but not at this moment. The change in my posture had also changed the way our bodies fit together and the hunger I was feeling now was getting no relief from sitting still. Miles’s eyes pressed shut for a moment, then he opened them again and I felt him adjusting his grip on my waist. I traced his mouth, let my fingers dip inside while he nipped at them and his hands slid down over my hips to fondle my cock and balls. I groaned in need and bowed my head as my body took over, my thighs tensing as I lifted myself until I thought he was in danger of falling out, then sank quickly down upon him, hunting for that perfect angle.
Miles made a strangled noise deep in his throat and pulled me down against his chest. I struggled a bit because I didn’t like losing the feel of him inside me, but then he rolled us over so he was on top of me, his feet braced against the floor.
I froze, just for an instant, but he felt it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s fine.” It was, really. Just instinct and that letter triggering memories of having sex with my ex. I understood some things better all of a sudden, but it wasn’t anything that needed to be dealt with now. So when Miles started to pull away I wrapped my legs around his waist and held him there. “No, really. It’s okay. I’ll explain after if you ask nicely. Maybe. It isn’t important, just a lightbulb going off.”
“Not about him? The stalker?”
“No.”
His eyes searched mine, then he nodded. “Truth?”
“Truth,” I promised and pulled his mouth down to mine. Buried my ex in the feel of Miles’s body, eradicated him from my past. Scorched earth.
Miles was certainly scorching.
His tongue met mine as he pressed me against the bed. He kept his weight balanced on one elbow, the other hand trailing a slow path from my shoulder, down over my ribcage and my hips until he could slide past the underside of my thigh and tease the skin just behind my balls.
I groaned and kissed him harder, rocking my hips in mute demand. He hissed and slipped his fingers inside me, pushing deeper and deeper until he found my prostate. I bit his lip and then buried my face in the side of his neck, half sobbing with frustration and half laughing as he teased me and drove my arousal higher and higher. I stopped trying to talk, could barely breathe as I writhed on his hand, but damn, I’d have punched him if he’d tried to stop.
It still wasn’t enough, though it could have been if he’d have stopped wasting time and went to work at making me come. Finally, I decided that as spectacular as being kept on the edge of orgasm was, I was ready. Really ready. Which meant taking things into my own hands.
I grabbed Miles by the jaw, a little tit for tat there, kissed him once more, hard and furious, then caught his gaze and held it until I was sure he was paying attention. “Miles, I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me hard and do it right now, I’m going to make you sleep on the floor tonight.”
He considered my words for a moment, and all the while his fingers twisted inside me, occasionally brushing up against my prostate and setting off those tiny chain reactions that only promised release and never delivered. The corners of his mouth curled up and he bent his head to press a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I hate sleeping on the floor,” he said, then kissed me gently on the mouth. He shifted carefully above me, and for a moment I lost the sensation of his fingers inside, until he replaced them with the more substantial demand of his cock filling me. I groaned and writhed beneath him, swatting at the memories that brought up. This was Miles, not my ex. The catch of Miles’s breath as I moved beneath him was as much a reward as the streaking pleasure that action created in my body. It struck me at that moment that this was about pleasing ourselves and pleasing each other, not about me servicing my alpha’s ego. There was more to it too, but Miles had begun to move his hips in ways that made coherent thought difficult, so I filed those half-formed understandings away to be looked at more closely at some time when I was less distracted.
Miles took things slowly but I could tell he had a plan. Each thrust of his hips, each stroke of tongue or palm against my skin added to the last one, a leisurely climb toward the peak we both were aiming for. I wasn’t, in general, a patient lover—I liked to get in, get off, and get out in as short a time as possible. But this was nice. More than nice. I felt my body relax into the rhythm, let Miles set the pace, and paid attention to his pleasure and mine. He liked it when I cupped my hand over the hard muscle of his ass, his breath leaving him in a sigh of contentment as I lightly massaged him, fingers gliding into the cleft to trace the outline of his hole. I wondered briefly if he’d ever let me top him, then ran away from that idea because it brought with it the reminder that this was only temporary, we were just two adults blowing off steam in a very enjoyable way.
He kissed along my neck, then came back to my mouth. I adjusted my legs around his waist and dragged my fingers up his back. The muscles bulged and rolled beneath my palms, hard as rock as he used them. A brief, wandering thought drifted through my mind, about how much time he spent at the gym and how strong he actually was, then burned away in the heat of his cock working its magic inside me as he took my caresses for the invitation that they were and began to move faster. I felt the jolt with each snap of his hips in every fiber of my being, the sharp flash of pleasure with each thrust building on the fading glow of the last one. Wanting became need, and need became discomfort as my body yowled for the release his body could give me. I could have finished it myself and almost did, but just like a rollercoaster, this was a ride where the pleasure was as much in the waiting and wondering as it was in the out-of-control hurtling toward the bottom. And who knew when I’d get to do this again, if ever? I wanted every sensation, every memory.
Miles grabbed my ass with one hand, bruising tight, then quickly slid his arm in behind my knee and bent me almost double. I started to complain, until he braced his feet more firmly against the floor and used that leverage to magnify the power of his body. Every movement he made dragged across my prostate, bounced my cock between his abs and mine, shot pleasure through nerve endings I hadn’t even known I had. All I could do was cling to him and ride him blindly until my orgasm hit, my rollercoaster roaring and screaming over the crest of that hill while my limbs spasmed out of control and I crushed him against me.
He followed me right after and I had the pleasure of watching him as he lost himself, eyes tight shut, an expression of wonder on his face. At least I knew that it had been good for him.
I was going to hurt tomorrow and I didn’t care at all.
Miles sagged against me, his face buried against my jaw. Unusual for me, I fought the urge to stroke his hair and hold him close. I never wanted to hold them after.
After a moment, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, lines of exhaustion that I hadn’t noticed scoring his face. “Wow.”
