by Sofia Aves
I tugged against his hands, and they loosened, but not letting go, either. His thumb rubbed my palm in tiny circles. Knowing that he would let me go if I asked was more than I could bear. I tipped my head back, and his lips were on the sensitive skin around my throat, licking, kissing, sucking as I teetered on the edge, and fell into the abyss.
His arms were wrapped around me, and he murmured sweet things against my mouth, dragging his tongue against mine. Barely aware, I responded to him, reaching up to pull him closer, needing to feel him against me. He licked my bottom lip, hands fisting in my hair as he nipped the sensitive skin of my collarbone. I gasped, and he drew back, eyes dark. A sinful smile graced his lips.
“You said you had dinner ready?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
CAL
Mila stumbled across the kitchen on unsteady legs. Something inside me loved torturing her, knowing she desperately needed me to fuck her, but I couldn’t stop the tease. I was an asshole, and I knew it.
Just watching her heated my blood to boiling point; my hold on her had been light, more to let her know what I wanted than forcefully restraining her. I sipped the beer she’d opened for me, leaning against the wall, still warm from the heat of her pressed against it.
I enjoyed watching her struggle. I wanted to draw this out so that by the time I was ready to take her, she would have lost all control, be completely raw and just her.
It took her two tries to pull the fridge door open. Collecting herself with deep breaths, she extracted what she’d made.
Spicy scents filled my apartment, my stomach rumbling. Mila heated the food and served it. She stood still at the bench, gripping it hard, and every damned part of me roused at the sight of her so vulnerable, but still so strong.
I love this woman.
The thought took me completely by surprise, and I took another swallow of beer to keep anything from showing on my face. Tonight was about her. We could worry about how I felt tomorrow.
Dark hair tumbled over her shoulder where it had fallen loose and tangled in itself. I slid my arms to either side of her, taking the plates from under her hands, careful to limit the amount of contact my skin had with hers. Anticipation was the key to this woman; I was certain. For her to let go completely and just feel, she needed to stop thinking.
Control was something I had studied for a long time; I knew it intimately. I placed the plates on the table she had set, appreciating the effort she’d put into tonight. I was glad to know she wanted to try to make this work as much as I did — and I wanted to give her all the reasons in the world to stay.
I drew out a chair, gesturing for her to sit. She dropped gracefully, and I pressed the chair in beneath her, bending to brush my lips over the side of her neck, lifting the dark mass of her hair to expose her skin. Placing a glass of wine in front of her, I let my fingertips trail her cheek. She sighed as I sat opposite her, and we ate silently for a few moments. Dinner was amazing. I loved that she cooked as well — better — than I did.
“This is amazing, Mila.” I caught her eye, and she blushed, fidgeting. “Tell me Danny was good to you today.” I smiled, “But not that good.”
Mila shook her head.
“No, he respects you too much for that.”
I raised an eyebrow. The man was shacked up with my ex, had punched me in the face with no warning a few days ago. Which still irritated me. For all that, I couldn’t deny he worked his ass off for me.
Mila laughed, waving her fork.
“I know, I know. Your ex though — that’s different than, well, different to us?”
She stared down at her plate, discomfort radiating from suddenly tense shoulders. I reached over, stroking the fingers that clutched her fork in a death grip. I gently pried them open, surprised the thing didn’t bend under the force she exerted.
“You’re right, Mila. They’re nothing like us.” I squeezed her hand for a moment more, sliding my hand over hers. She smiled, light sparkling in her eyes.
God, but she was so beautiful.
It took me a second to realise I was staring and finished my own food.
“Tell me about your day.”
She stumbled on the words. I realised it had been a long time — if ever — that she’d had a partner to ask her. She blushed harder when she asked me how my work had gone.
“Lot of paperwork, settled the girls into the house. I think they’re happy there. Ashley is certainly glad to have Jenny back, though she misses you.”
I skimmed around the topic of Logan, not wanting his shadow in the room with us. Mila collected our plates as soon as I had scraped the last of the sauce from mine.
“That was delicious. Thank you.”
I tried to take the plates from her, beginning to rise, but she pressed her knee atop my thigh, pushing down.
“Stay, please. I’ll be back in a moment.”
She returned swiftly with two small glasses filled with dark mousse, topped with a small bud of fluffy cream and some mint leaves. I grinned, happy she’d raided my potted herbs. Sweet and earthy scents wafted over the table.
“Tell me.”
“Dark mocha mousse with mint and Chantilly cream.”
“You’re amazing.”
Mila passed me a thin, long-handled spoon she must have dug out from the bottom of the cutlery drawer or somewhere else in my apartment. Her eyes were on me as I tried the dessert. The flavours were perfect, and I suspected dark chocolate might be a weakness of hers.
I could see the nerves building in her and wanted to sweep them all away. Hooking my foot around her ankle, I gave a little tug. Her shoulders relaxed until she finished her dessert. Mila flipped her hair over her shoulder and rose before I could say anything, stopping beside me. I relaxed, not wanting to scare her, but I wanted to see what she would do. She leaned over me, one hand on my shoulder, pressing her fingers into the cotton of my shirt.
Her lips found mine, brushing across my mouth. Hesitant fingers slid to the buttons of my shirt. I let her undo each one, not daring to move.
When she reached my waist, I shifted back slowly, letting her tug my shirt from the waist of my pants. My hands itched to touch her, but I held back, giving her the reins.
She traced down my stomach, curving her tiny hands around the muscle there, her touch so light it was fucking torture. She struggled with the button on my pants, and though I loved seeing her flustered, I placed my hands over hers, easing her through the movements. Her hands slipped inside, fingers curling around me, so timid. Her breath brushed over the length of me, and I fought back a groan.
Who was it meant to be tortured with anticipation here?
I gripped the edge of my chair with one hand, fighting the urge to bury my hands in her hair. She looked up at me with big eyes as her mouth touched the head of my cock, tongue flicking out, around. I closed my eyes, straining against a building need to bury myself inside her.
I laid a light hand on her hair, pressing down only the minutest amount. She engulfed me with her mouth. I groaned, hand fisting her hair as she slid her tongue along me in a steady rhythm. Her hands weren’t idle, sliding into my pants to cup me as she licked every inch. It was torture and heaven at the same moment.
And she looked at me the entire time.
Her hands and mouth built an increasing rhythm. I cupped my hand beneath her jaw, urging her up, but she didn’t move, those huge, luminous eyes on me as I lost myself in them. I came with a groan, straining against her.
Slowing my breathing, I looked down at the incredible woman kneeling before me. She hadn’t moved, leaning her cheek on my thigh. Her skin was soft beneath my touch. I loosened my hand from her hair, not pulling it free just yet. Those eyes widened, still watching. I never broke her gaze, pressing her wine glass into her hands.
She sipped, tilting the glass up. A drop slid from the corner of her mouth, trailing down her cheek. I brushed it back between her lips, her teeth nipping my fingers playfully. She rose, placing the glass on the tab
le, hips loose and swaying.
I lifted her, standing in one fluid motion. She gasped, gripping my shoulders, her dark hair tumbling around us. Her legs wrapped around me as I claimed her mouth, pulling her down to me. Our tongues met, stroking and teasing as I walked us into my bedroom, my hands fighting to find bare skin. I desperately needed to feel her flesh against mine.
Flicking the light on, I slid her down the length of me, letting her go only to shuck my shirt onto the floor, grabbing a condom out of my pocket before I kicked my pants free. Naked, I stalked the few steps to her, my hands on her waist, lifting her thin jumper over her head. Her lips parted, eyes sweeping over me. I slid my hands down her sides to her waist, pushing beneath the yoga pants she wore so they puddled around her ankles.
Every inch of her was curved perfectly. Tiny and petite, I felt as though she’d disappear in my arms. Mila reached back, unclasping her bra, so it fell from her shoulders. I raked my gaze from her perfect ankles to her swollen lips, then she was in my arms, tongue tangling with mine. I lifted her to my hips, then spun her in my arms, so she was facing the en-suite mirror.
I lifted one of her legs to stand flat on the wooden bed end, hooking her other leg around my calf. I trailed my fingers along the delicate flesh of her thigh, stroking where it curved around me, holding her up with only my arm around her waist.
“Watch,” I murmured into her hair, sliding my hand over her throat, dipping down to the curves of her breasts. Sucking and licking her neck, she rewarded me with the tiny mewling sounds I loved. Tiny circles around her nipples drew breathy moans from her lips, and I ached to thrust into her, but not yet. I wanted her senseless with need, first.
When I finally ran the pads of my fingers over the sensitive tips of her nipples, I nipped her neck. She cried out, arching. Her nails dug into my arms, desire ripping through me at her reaction.
My hands dropped lower, trailing down her beautiful body, over soft skin to the apex of her thighs. I stroked around her clit, never entering her as I delved lower, her thighs slick with arousal. Her tiny hands gripped my wrists tightly, pulling me closer against her. I thrust two fingers straight into her, knowing she was ready. Her head dropped back onto my shoulder; lips open in a silent O. I nudged her up, flicking my tongue along the bottom on her earlobe, down her neck.
“Look, Mila. Watch. I want you to see yourself come.”
It was an order, and she responded immediately, watching my hands on her skin. The foil packet crinkled as I tore it open. I shifted, lifting her onto me, so I pressed against her entrance. I took it slow, though I needed her as much as she did me. She gripped my arms hard, gasping as I rolled her nipple between my fingers, tugging just a little.
I eased her down onto me, squeezing my fingers into the pale flesh of her thigh with my other hand. She clung to my arm, gasping, whimpering, allowing me to hold her up. I gave her a moment to get used to the feeling, the way she clenched around me almost driving me over the edge. I kissed along her jaw, the corner of her mouth.
“Mila, this won’t last long.” My voice came out harsh and rough. She shook her head, catching my gaze in the mirror as she slid her hands behind my neck, my skin stinging a little where her nails dug in.
“Hard, Cal. Please.”
It was the way she begged that wrecked me. I found her hips with both hands, slamming into her with no more thought than that I needed to fuck this woman as if my life depended upon it. She screamed, arching against me. My arms wound around her, needing to feel every inch of her pressed against me.
She clenched around me as I thrust deep, riding the wave of my own orgasm as hers overtook her, and we crashed to the floor in a tangle of slicked limbs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MILA
I awoke curled around Cal, splayed across his chest. His arms wrapped around me, our legs intertwined. I couldn’t tell where he started, and I ended. Content, I enjoyed his warmth, the peace that came with that moment in half-sleep before wakefulness hits. I stretched languidly, arching and sliding along his skin, both of us still slick with sweat.
Cal’s fingers trailed along my spine, stroking up and down in smooth motions. I leaned up, kissing his jaw without untangling myself from him. He just felt so good. I snuggled into him, never wanting to move again.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I mumbled drowsily into his shoulder. “Don’t you dare move today.”
A laugh rumbled in Cal’s chest. His hands knotted in my hair for a moment, then relaxed.
“Honey, I have to go into work today.”
“Stay. Please?”
His fingers slid through my hair, massaging in slow circles. “I have to go in. But…” His hand dropped lower, catching my legs and drawing them up, so I straddled his hips. I sat up, smiling lazily, enjoying the desire in his eyes. He hardened beneath me, pressing against my sensitive flesh.
He reached into a draw beneath his nightstand, removing a foil packet. I unrolled the condom, covering the length of him. A wicked smile curled my lips, and I hid behind my hair as I slid onto him with a breathy moan, still slick from our lovemaking the night before. He fit perfectly, hitting all the right places, throbbing inside me. I whimpered, and his hands squeezed my hips.
“Gentle, honey. If you’re too sore…”
I shook my head, rolling my hips. Cal hissed breath through his teeth, thrusting up into me, hard. My thighs squeezed his hips, and I ran my hands down his stomach, exploring. Tracing the sea dragon where it curled around his arm, peeking over his shoulder, his golden skin was aglow beneath the sunrise. Planes of defined muscles stretched across his chest.
I slipped my fingers down the groove in the centre of his abdomen. He watched with hooded eyes, tracking my progress. Reaching around to hold my ass, he moved with me, a growl rumbling deep inside him. My thighs tensed. I moaned, unable to hold back, my entire core clenching. His hands squeezed hard, pressing into the sensitive corner inside my hips, slamming me down.
A strangled cry tore from my throat. Cal’s hand wound into my hair, pulling me down to him, kissing me deeply. A growl built in his chest, his movements sleek and fast. His mouth ripped from mine, his hands wrapping around me until I was drowning in his scent. I stared into his eyes when he shuddered, taking me with him a second time.
Sometime later, Cal slid out from beneath me, leaving me in a puddle of unresponsive limbs in the centre of his enormous bed. I sank into the pillows, not bothering with the sheet. He paused, at the edge of the bed, fingers trailing along my calf. His smile was sin, and I stretched beneath his gaze.
His eyes darkened, and I thought he might kneel back on the bed. Anticipation coiled inside me. I didn’t dare move, not wanting the moment to end. One corner of his mouth curled and with a last look that sent desire straight through me, he headed for the shower.
I exhaled, both disappointed and glad he hadn’t come back — something to look forward to for tonight. I smiled at the thought, recalling his hands on me, what he could do with that mouth. Forget the looks; the man was a god in bed, as well as out of it.
If Cal was getting ready for work, that meant Danny would be here soon. I groaned. In that case, clothes were a necessity. Flapping around on the bed, I couldn't locate anything I’d worn the night before.
One of Cal’s shirts was on the floor. I slipped it over my head. The cotton hem stopped mid-thigh, and I turned up the sleeves a few times. Arms wrapped around my waist, and I leaned back against a familiar, warm chest.
Cal curved around me until I was completely wrapped in him. His fingers caught my chin, drawing my head back, and his lips found mine. His kiss was searing hot, sending tingles to my toes. I ached deep inside for him, returning his kisses with equal fervour.
His fingers trailed down my neck, closing gently, but firmly around my throat, tilting my head further back. It was an incredibly arousing feeling, to trust him, to let go of everything. I slipped my arms around his neck, giving him complete control. He drew back, ey
es glinting as he released me. I protested, but he caught my hand, pulling me to him for a last kiss.
“Tonight.” His eyes glowed with the promise of his words. I shivered as he towed me to the kitchen. “Coffee.”
Danny buzzed halfway through breakfast. Cal checked his watch and swore. His gaze swept over me, eyes sparkling with mischief as he pressed the button to let Danny up.
“Honey, I’d go change, unless you want Danny to see more of you than normal. I don’t mind if he’s fucking my ex, but you…that’s a different story.”
I looked down, realising how much the shirt showed. Leaping off the stool, I raced into the bedroom to change. When I came back out, Danny was eating my breakfast, and Cal was nowhere to be seen. My stomach dropped, a sudden ache blooming low in my belly.
Danny caught my eye, nodding to the balcony.
“He’s taking a call.”
My breath released, a long exhale. I worried about him out there, though I knew he was more worried for me than for himself. Surely Logan would take any chance to get rid of him. Though Cal had said he screwed with people’s mind — I could definitely vouch for that, and most of Cal’s unit too, I was sure.
Cal slid the glass sliding door back, then pulled the blinds closed behind him. Light became muted, like a cave. I wanted to be outside quite badly at that moment, feel the sun on my skin. How long would I be hiding away like this?
Cal pulled me into him, brushing his lips over mine. I rose up on my toes, pressing my lips harder against his, wanting more. He slipped his hand into my hair, holding me up, his tongue invading my mouth until all I could feel and think of was him.
Danny muttered behind us, and I could swear I heard “get a room.” Cal grinned against my lips, gently letting me off my toes, his arms winding around me.
“Stay here; be safe,” he murmured into my hair. I nodded, my hands curled in the fabric of his shirt.