Page 12 of Stuffing My Obsession
The smirk fades, replaced by something darker. Sinful. “Do I need to apologize for that?”
I blink up at him, stunned. Apologize? He thinks I’d want that? After everything he made me feel? The thought makes me shake my head before I can stop myself. “No.”
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes, like a storm rolling in. His arm tightens around me, holding me closer.
“Good.” His voice drops lower, rougher, as his gaze fixes on my mouth. “Because I want to do it again.”
My breath catches. Every nerve in my body sparks alive. I should hesitate, but I don’t. “I want that too.”
He doesn’t waste another second. His mouth crushes mine, hot and demanding, claiming me with a hunger that steals my breath. I gasp, and he takes full advantage, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my toes curl.
I grip his shirt, holding on for dear life as his mouth devours mine like a starving man. With every moan that bursts out of my lips, the kiss grows deeper, rougher. I can’t think, can’t move, can’t do anything but feel the heat of his body pressed into mine, the hard length of him straining against his jeans, the way his hand fists tight in my shirt like he’s seconds from ripping it off.
“Myles,” I gasp into his mouth, not even sure if it’s a plea for more or for mercy.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark, burning. “You taste like heaven, Paris. You know that?”
My whole body shudders. He says it like a man starving, and I can’t stop myself. I pull him down again, kissing him harder, greedy for the fire he lights in me.
His hand slides down, gripping my thigh, dragging it over his hip until I’m straddling him. The hard ridge of his cock presses against me and a needy sound escapes my throat, one I don’t even recognize as my own.
“Fuck,” he growls, grinding up against me. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”
I moan, rocking against him without thinking, heat pooling low in my belly. My shirt rides up as his hands roam my body, his strong, rough palms sliding under the fabric, cupping my breasts. His thumb flicks over my nipple and I arch into his touch, gasping.
“So sensitive,” he mutters, voice rough as gravel. “So damn perfect.”
Before I can respond, his mouth leaves mine, blazing a trail down my throat. I tilt my head back, helpless as his lips andteeth tease my skin, sucking just hard enough to leave marks. My fingers thread into his short hair, pulling him closer.
He shifts, rolling me beneath him, his weight pinning me deliciously to the mattress. His hand drags down, sliding under my shirt, over the bare skin of my stomach, lower…so close.
I tremble, anticipation crackling through me like electricity. And when his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my panties, brushing against the place where I’m aching for his touch…I whimper his name.
“Christ, Paris,” he rasps, biting back a groan. “You’re so wet for me.”
Heat floods me. I can’t answer, can’t do anything but writhe as he slides a finger through my slick folds, teasing me until I’m panting. My hips jerk, desperate for more.
“You want my mouth on you?” he asks, voice dark, teasing, even as his eyes blaze with hunger.
The words alone make me burn. I nod frantically, cheeks flaming. “Yes.”
He growls low in his throat, then moves down the bed, dragging my panties off in one swift motion. The cool air hits me for a second before his mouth replaces it, hot and wet.
I cry out, arching off the mattress as his tongue licks a slow, devastating stripe over me. He groans like he’s the one being wrecked. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I clutch the sheets, gasping, as his mouth works me over, licking, sucking, tongue circling my clit until I’m trembling. My thighs clamp around his head, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, hedevours me harder, holding me down, dragging me higher and higher until the pressure bursts.
I scream his name as the orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave, leaving me boneless.
He doesn’t stop right away, lapping at me like he can’t get enough, until I’m shuddering, sensitive, begging him to slow down. He finally pulls back, his face wet with me, his eyes wild.
He crawls up my body, kissing me hard, making me taste myself on his lips. His cock grinds against me, hard, urgent, ready.
“Myles…wait. I need to tell you something.”
His whole body stills above me. The weight of him pins me, his cock hard against my belly, his chest heaving as he searches my face. “What is it?” His voice is sharp, strained, like he’s bracing himself.
I swallow hard, my cheeks flaming. The words feel too big in my throat, but I force them out. “I’ve never…I mean—I’m a virgin.”
