Page 80 of Marry Lies
Something flashes in his eyes. In the next second, he pulls me roughly against his body and crushes his lips against mine.
I moan when his tongue presses into my mouth, and my other hand reaches for his hair. His arms wrap around my waist and his hands fist the material of my sweater dress, sending shimmers of pleasure through me. My heart thunders inside of my chest as he groans, pulling away.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
“Don’t stop.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when he kisses me again, twisting us around so that my back is to the wall of the dining room. He presses me firmly against the damask wallpaper, rucking his hips up against me. I gasp as he lifts me up, hands splayed under my thighs as my legs wrap around his hips.
“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, lips brushing against mine.
“Never,darling.”
He pulls away, eyes blazing. He doesn’t need to say anything. I can tell by the way he’s smirking—by the way his hand comes up to my face—that he likes this nickname.
Lowering his head, he places another gentle kiss against my lips, and then my jaw, my neck…
I let my head fall back against the wall as he trails kisses down my neck, pushing my turtleneck down slightly. The hem of my dress inches up. His breath is warm against my skin, and my eyes roll back when he thrusts into me once again.
“Fuck,” I whisper, tingling and trembling all over.
I gasp in shallow breaths as he drives into me, his length hard and firm against my knickers. The friction makes me whimper, pleasure radiating outward and down to my fingers and toes. He licks and sucks at the junction between my neck and shoulder, and my eyes roll back as he rocks into my core again.
“I want you to come for me like this, butterfly,” Miles mumbles against my skin. “I want to feel how wet you are through my pants. Do you understand?”
Where did this dirty mouth come from?
I whimper again, clenching my thighs tighter against him. My hands come down to his chest, trailing over his scars.
He presses against me harder, directly over my clit. I’m so worked up from my book earlier that I know it won’t take me long.
Not when he keeps pressing himself against me the way he is–hips rolling, pressure firm but not too hard.
Miles rests his forehead against mine as his hands come to my hips, squeezing my bare flesh as he fucks me with clothes on.
God, this is so hot.
My legs shake as he thrusts up against me. “Miles,” I moan.
“You have no idea how badly I want to sink into your sweet pussy, Estelle,” he growls. “How much I want to watch you fall apart underneath me. And on top of me. And bent over our bed. God, I’ve imagined this for so long,” he adds.
“Me too,” I whisper.
“Fuck.” His voice is hoarse, and his heart is beating erratically under my hand.
Closing my eyes, I circle my hips, chasing my orgasm.
“Eyes open,” he commands. “I want to watch you as you fall apart.”
“God, Miles,” I groan. “I’m close.”
He starts to move my hips over his cock roughly, breathing heavily as he jerks into me at the same time.
“Yes you are,” he growls. “And you’re going to come all over my cock, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” I mewl, feeling the telltale signs of my impending climax.
“You like the way our dinner is growing cold on the table, wife?”
