Hidden Miles: The Miles Family Book 4

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Hidden Miles: The Miles Family Book 4 Page 19

by Kingsley, Claire


  “Me too,” Brynn said. “That would have been awful for everyone.”

  “Plus now you’re free to move on,” Amelia said. “Do you think you’ll date again?”

  Shannon laughed. “Oh honey. My time has passed.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s bullshit.”

  “Zoe!” Shannon said.

  “I’m not wrong,” Zoe said. “You’re divorced, not dead.”

  “I’m not in my twenties, or thirties, or forties, anymore,” Shannon said.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Brynn asked.

  “I agree,” I said. “It’s not like life should end after you turn fifty.”

  Shannon took a sip of her wine. “I’m busy here. I don’t know who I’d even date.”

  “I can think of someone,” Zoe said.

  Shannon shot her a glare. “If you’re referring to who I believe you are referring to, he and I have a very nice friendship. But nothing more than that.”

  Zoe snorted.

  “It’s true,” she said. “Besides, he’s been here through… everything. It’s been well over twenty years. I think Cooper was two when he came to work for us.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Brynn asked.

  “Benjamin doesn’t see me that way,” Shannon said.

  Zoe snorted again.

  Could she really not see it? To me, it was clear as day that Ben had feelings for her. And anyone could see she returned them. But I knew she’d been through a lot. And with her divorce only just being finalized, maybe it was hard for her to see the possibilities that lay ahead.

  “One thing I know,” I said, reaching for a cookie that one of the guys had brought. “You don’t always know what the hard parts of life are going to teach you. Sometimes the worst experiences shape us into who we are, and we’re better for it.”

  “That’s so true,” Shannon said.

  “God, I have such a girl crush on you,” Zoe said. She moved her wine glass toward mine and we clinked them. “Words of wisdom.”

  “Cheers. And by the way.” I paused, feeling suddenly a little self-conscious. “Thanks for inviting me tonight.”

  “You’re stuck with us now,” Zoe said.

  “I think we can all drink to that,” Brynn said, holding up her glass.

  So we did.

  Twenty-Five

  Hannah

  Leo was nice enough to let me sleep off the rest of my hangover after I dragged myself home from Shannon’s house in the morning. We’d been up half the night drinking, talking, and laughing. Fun, but painful in the morning. After about a gallon of water, a nap, and a shower, I felt like myself again.

  He came into the bedroom while I was getting dressed and lay down, putting his hands behind his head. His hair fell away from his face, but he didn’t move or shift to hide it. He just watched me.

  I finished dressing in a tank top and yoga pants and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Did you have fun last night?” Leo asked.

  “Yeah, it was really fun,” I said. “A little too much fun, maybe. But I feel fine now.”

  “That happens when Zoe’s involved,” he said. “You gotta watch out for that one.”

  I laughed. “I can see that. Did you go out with the guys?”

  “I did. It wasn’t bad.” His brow furrowed, like that surprised him.

  “Good. Your mom showed me a bunch of old Salishan stuff. It was neat. I found an article about your grandfather. He was in the military?”

  “Yeah.” He sat up, and I could see him closing himself off.

  In many ways, Leo had opened up a lot. But there were still things he wouldn’t talk about. If I got anywhere near the topic of his time in the Army, he shut down the conversation.

  “Were you close to your grandparents?”

  “Very,” he said. “We all lived together growing up, so yeah.”

  “Did he have anything to do with why you went into the military?”

  He looked away. “I guess.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Shut me out,” I said. “I feel like you know almost everything about me and there’s still so much I don’t know about you.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know everything about you,” he said.

  “More or less,” I said. “I’ve told you about my parents. I told you everything that happened with Jace. Even before we met, I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

  “What things?”

  I took a deep breath, trying to think of something. “Like… oh, I know one. Do you remember that time a couple of years ago when we talked for like two hours about shibari and kinbaku?”

  “Japanese bondage?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t know how we even got on the topic. But I told you all about the shibari display I saw at an art museum in Vancouver. And then we started talking about ropes and bondage and what it would feel like.”

  His voice was low. “You said you were curious.”

  I nodded once. “I’ve never admitted I might be into that to someone else. Just you.”

  “You mean you’ve never done it?”

  “Bondage? No.”

  He watched me, and it drove me crazy that I couldn’t read his expression.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I just always thought that was something you’d done before.”

  “Why?”

  “It seemed like you knew a lot about it.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I Googled a little.”

  “But you haven’t tried it.”

  “No,” I said, my voice just above a whisper. “Being tied would leave me so… vulnerable. I’ve never been with someone I trust enough.”

  He stared at me again in silence, his intense gaze hypnotic. It reminded me of the first time I saw him, across the room at a wedding. I’d been just as mesmerized then as I was now.

  After a long moment, he finally spoke. “Do you trust me enough?”

  My breath caught in my throat. The idea of Leo tying me up was desperately arousing. My panties were already wet at the mere thought of it. I couldn’t quite get a yes out, so I nodded.

  With that same serious expression, Leo got up and went to his closet. When he turned back around, he had coils of black rope in his hand.

  “Do you just happen to have some rope here, for like, practical reasons?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “That’s bondage rope.”

  He nodded.

  “Do you know how to use it?”

  He nodded again.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t remember you telling me you knew how to do this.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “How long have you had that rope?”

  “Two years.”

  I gaped at him. “So you’re telling me we talked about kinbaku and you went out and bought bondage rope?”

  He looked at the rope in his hands. “I ordered it online.”

  “And you learned how to use it?”

  “I bought a book.”

  I took a deep breath. This was so unexpected. “Even though you didn’t have someone to use it on?”

  With his eyes still on me, he uncoiled some of the rope and wound it around one hand, then stretched it taut. “I always imagined it was you.”

  Oh my god.

  He reached over and flipped the light switch. He always turned the lights off before sex. Not that he took his shirt off—ever. But a dark room obviously made him more comfortable, so I never protested. My body reacted to the sudden darkness, warmth rushing between my legs, like I’d developed a classical conditioning response.

  His eyes were like steel and his voice had gone gravelly. “Hannah.”

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “Take your fucking clothes off.”

  I hurried to obey, pulling my tank top over my head and letting it drop to the floor. He watched while I stripped naked, coiling the rope aroun
d one hand, then the other, stretching it tight between them.

  “On your knees, back to me,” he said. “But stay upright.”

  I did what he asked, kneeling on the bed in front of him.

  He touched the back of my shoulder with the rope. It was surprisingly soft. I trembled as he traced it down my back.

  Wordlessly, he caressed my left arm with the rope, then pulled it behind my back. Did the same with my right. He wound the rope around my wrists, slowly binding them together. After tying a knot, he checked the tension, running his finger between the rope and my skin.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Good.”

  He threaded the rope around my arms, weaving it upward. It didn’t hurt, but it did leave my arms immobilized.

  Leaning in, he kissed the base of my neck. Sometimes he liked to nibble and bite—and I loved it—but this was so soft. So gentle. He ran his hands up and down my bound arms, brushing his lips against my sensitive skin.

  “More?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He wrapped a rope around my rib cage, just below my breasts, and pulled it behind me. The feel of it tightening made my heart race. He drew it around, under my arm, and across the top of my breasts. I felt him loop it in back and he kissed my shoulder again.

  With agonizing slowness, he slid the rope over the top of my shoulder, crossing it beneath the ropes so it cut between my breasts. His body pressed against me from behind as he reached over to tuck the free end under the rope that wound around my ribs. Then he brought it up again, between my breasts, and pulled it down over the opposite shoulder.

  The constriction of the rope was both gentle and tight—not enough to hurt my skin or cut off my circulation, but the pressure was intense, like being held. Embraced.

  It felt amazing.

  He tied it off in the back and I closed my eyes. I was on my knees, my arms bound behind me, a harness of rope encircling my torso. My nipples were hard peaks even in the warm room, as if the mild constriction around my chest increased their sensitivity.

  Leo ran his hands over my shoulders and down my arms. Moved around the bed so he was in front of me, caressing me as he went.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  Letting my eyes flutter open, I gazed up at him. He touched my face. Traced his fingertips down my neck, past the ropes at the top of my chest. When he got to my nipples I gasped. They were unbelievably sensitive to his touch.

  He leaned down and kissed me, lapping his tongue against mine. His beard was pleasantly rough against my face and he brushed his fingers over my nipples, making me tremble.

  “I want to fuck you like this,” he growled, tracing his fingers along the ropes.

  I didn’t think I was capable of speech, so I just nodded. Every touch, every brush of his hair or fingertips, sent tingles and sparks rushing through me. They exploded between my legs, my pussy throbbing with desire.

  I wanted to be fucked, and I wanted to be fucked hard.

  He moved off the bed and paused, his eyes moving up and down, taking me in. Slowly, he took off his pants and I felt a little thrill. He didn’t usually do that in front of me. Scars marred his left leg, and if he did take his pants off all the way, he was behind me when he did it.

  His tongue darted out and he bit his lower lip. Without saying a word, he did something I’d never seen him do before.

  He took off his shirt.

  My heart felt like it might beat out of my chest and tears sprang to my eyes. Not because I didn’t like what I saw. Because he’d done it. He’d broken through a barrier. Let me see.

  He had a dusting of chest hair and that delicious patch below his navel, leading down. In the dark room, his scarring was hard to make out. He’d covered almost all of it with ink, the tattoos running up his arm, over his chest, and down his torso. His left thigh was inked as well, the black design covering the burned skin.

  He was absolutely beautiful.

  As much as I wanted to attach myself to his gorgeous body, feeling every inch of skin against mine, I understood what was happening. I was bound. I couldn’t touch him unless he let me. Unless he chose to get close enough.

  It was why he’d done it.

  If he needed these ropes to feel safe—as a crutch to deeper intimacy—I was all for it.

  I started to bend forward at the waist and he moved closer to take the rope in his hands. He pulled the free end taut, engaging the ropes around my chest. The harness easily took my weight and he lowered me slowly until my face was against the mattress, my ass in the air.

  “Fuck,” he growled.

  This position was intense. So vulnerable. He got on the bed behind me and caressed the backs of my thighs, kissing them, moving until his mouth was close to my center.

  With a long, slow draw of his tongue, he licked up my slit. My eyes rolled back and a tremor ran down my spine.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

  He kissed and licked, his tongue dancing across my sensitive skin. But it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.

  “I need you to fuck me, Leo.”

  He flicked his tongue over my clit. “What do you need, baby?”

  “I need you to fuck me.”

  “Mm,” he said, his voice vibrating against me. “You need my cock, don’t you, my sweet girl?”

  “Yes.”

  More flicks of his tongue.

  “Please, Leo.”

  I felt him move behind me. I was breathing hard, my pussy positively aching. He held onto my hips and I cried out as he thrust inside.

  Yes.

  Oh god, yes.

  Pressure.

  Friction.

  Heat.

  He gave me everything I needed. Held my hips tight and drove his cock into me. I was completely at his mercy, my arms bound behind my back, my face in his sheets.

  And I fucking loved it.

  There was no sense of being powerless. He wasn’t trying to subjugate me. He was in command. In control. Making my body respond to his. Enjoying my pleasure as much as he was enjoying his own.

  The ropes themselves added new sensations as Leo fucked me. Pressure and tension. I felt the contrast of the soft sheets on my skin, my nipples dragging against the fabric as my body shifted with Leo’s thrusts.

  He reached around and rubbed my clit while he pounded his cock into me. His grunts and growls were so raw. So primal. He pulled on the rope with his other hand, just enough to jerk me backward.

  I moaned as my pussy tightened around his erection. I was so close to coming. The binding pressure around my body, Leo’s cock driving into me, his fingers teasing my clit, the sound of his low growls. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensations. Letting Leo have me. All of me.

  I was entirely his.

  My pussy clenched hard around him and he grunted.

  “Yes, baby,” he said. “Fuck yes.”

  The first pulse of his cock sent me over the edge. I cried out, lost in the feeling of the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. It rolled through my body, wave after wave of pleasure as he unloaded inside me.

  His movements slowed until finally, he stopped. He pulled out and ran his hands gently over my lower back.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  My body was spent. He helped me move to my side so I could stretch out my legs, and put a pillow beneath my head.

  With a soft touch, he caressed my body, running his hands along my arms and shoulders. Up and down my back. He untied my arms first, kissing down my skin as he unwound the rope. He turned me onto my back and brought my wrists to his lips. Kissed them gently.

  He babied my entire body, lavishing me with soft kisses as he untied me. The ropes had left marks—although nothing that hurt—and he took his time, running his lips over every inch.

  I didn’t complain when he got up and put his shirt and underwear back on. I would have loved the chance to run my hands over his chest, but maybe he wasn’t r
eady for that.

  Besides, I was so utterly relaxed, I could barely move.

  He lay down beside me, propping his head in his hand, and traced his fingertips over my belly. “Thank you.”

  I drew in a slow breath, enjoying the scent of him. Of us. Feeling the compressions on my skin. The satisfaction of a delicious orgasm. “For what?”

  “For trusting me.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “For what we just experienced together.”

  “It was incredible, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  I nodded. “What was it like for you?”

  “Intoxicating. You tied up is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. What did it feel like?”

  “Different than I expected,” I said. “The ropes felt good, in and of themselves. It was like being hugged. I was afraid it would be scary, but it wasn’t. It was almost nurturing.”

  He smiled, still brushing his fingers up and down my belly. “That makes me feel good. I didn’t want it to hurt you.”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  “It was kind of freeing for me, if that makes any sense.”

  “It does.” I reached up and touched his face. “I couldn’t have done that with anyone but you.”

  He leaned down and brought his lips to mine. Kissed me softly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He nestled down beside me and gathered me in his arms. I drifted on a cloud of bliss, cuddled against him. It felt so good to let go. To trust. To know Leo would always take care of me.

  I just had to show him I’d always do the same. Then maybe he’d let me all the way in.

  Twenty-Six

  Leo

  I got out of the shower and dried off, running the towel over my face, down my chest. I felt good this morning. Rested. Healthier. The hot morning sex with Hannah probably had something to do with that. I’d tied her up again—just her arms this time—and it had been unbelievable.

  I pulled my hair back into a knot and tied it with one of Hannah’s hair ties. She’d convinced me to try it when I worked out, and I had to admit, it was nice to have my hair out of my face. Despite Cooper and Chase mercilessly teasing me about my man bun, I’d started wearing it this way sometimes.

 

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