Page 109 of Fighting Fate

I let out another needy whimper, overwhelmed by how long I've waited for this moment. His finger halts its motion, and a groan of frustration escapes me. Our eyes lock in a moment of shared vulnerability. He exhales heavily, his forehead resting gently against mine.

"Mills," he begins, his voice tinged with uncertainty. I respond with a reassuring stroke on his hand, yet the combination of his hesitant tone and the look in his eyes set my heart galloping behind my ribs.

"I-I can't believe it took me so long to realize," he whispers, a confession that barely escapes his lips, "my feelings for you."

His words leave me speechless. My mind races, but before I can fully process his words, his lips tenderly caress my collarbone; a flurry of shivers ripples through me. His eyes meet mine once more, now imbued with a tenderness and depth that was absent when we first stepped into the room. Anticipating the weight of his next words, I briefly close my eyes, savoring the warmth of his breath as it intermingles with mine.

"I love you, Milli Sutton," he says, and time seems to stand still.

My heart leaps, skipping beats as those long-awaited words wash over me.

Miles Chasen loves me? The realization hits me like a thunderbolt. Is this the heart-swelling, soul-stirring euphoria that the heroines in my romance novels experience when their love is declared? That overwhelming surge of joy and disbelief, where every page of fantasy seems to pale in comparison to reality? Because right now, my heart is in my throat, my emotions are a whirlwind, and I feel like I'm living in the most breathtaking chapter of my own love story.

He exhales a mixed sigh of sadness and regret, a sound that tugs at my heartstrings. Opening my eyes, I'm met with the depth of his blue eyes, conveying emotions far beyond words. "I'm so sorry it took me this long," he starts, his voice heavy with regret. "And it doesn't matter if you feel the same because I had to tell you?—"

I gently place my finger on his lips, silencing him. He closes his eyes, and the resignation wrenches my heart. "Look at me, Miles," I implore softly. There's a moment's pause, but I firmly guide his chin, needing his gaze to meet mine. "Now." Even with his eyes closed, the hint of his familiar smirk emerges, perhaps in response to my uncharacteristic demand.

Leaning in, our foreheads touch, a silent communion. My hands cradle his face, a tender anchor as our eyes finally lock. "Sometimes we don't get to choose who we love, baby. It's often right there, hidden in plain sight. I think falling in love with your best friend is like discovering a new layer in a familiar song—it's been playing softly in the background all this time, and suddenly, it's the only melody that makes sense. It's when the heart makes its choice, silently and surely, even before the mind catches up, uncovering a harmony in a tune you thought you knew completely."

His gaze softens, reaching into the depths of my soul. "I love you, Miles," I breathe out, our lips finding each other in a kiss that feels like both a confirmation and a commencement of something new. As we part, I lock eyes with him, my heart laid bare. "I always have, you know."

His laughter, light and filled with relief, envelops us, before his eyes blaze with an unbridled desire, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me. His touch becomes more fervent, his fingers exploring my clit, each movement stealing my breath. "Tell me what you want, Mills," he breathes into the charged air.

"Everything, I want everything," I breathe out, the words barely a whisper. "Me too, baby, me too," he replies, his voice a blend of deep yearning and a pledge for the future.

His fingers work magic, stirring a storm inside me. His touch, his scent, everything about him is overwhelming right now. A finger slips inside, slowly working its way deep. An unexpected gasp escapes from my lips, but I'm ready for him. I have been my whole life. He keeps his mouth close to my ear. "Are you clenching on my finger already, Mills?"

I swivel my hips as he strokes inside of me. "More," I beg. "God, please more."

"That's it, Mills. Ride my hand."

As he continues, my head tilts forward, resting in the crook of his neck. His movements are rhythmic and deliberate, the sensation intense. I cling to his shoulders, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure. My legs tighten around him, holding his hips to give my clit a bit of friction as he works inside of me. Heat and pressure coil in my lower belly. He strokes his fingers once more and my response is intense, a climax that shatters me, leaving me clinging to him.

Miles' voice is a husky whisper, laced with an emotion. "Seeing you unravel, Mills, it's...it's something else," he murmurs, his touch gentle yet stirring as he helps me regain my composure. Our lips barely touch, a fleeting connection that leaves me wanting more.

"I can say you are much better than any of my book boyfriends," I admit, a breathless confession.

His chuckle vibrates against my lips. "Damn right I am better than any of those."

As my strength ebbs, he tenderly adjusts my lingerie, steadying me on trembling legs. Not giving him the chance to stop me, I drop to my knees, palm grazing his body until they land on his thick thighs for support.

Miles towers above, concern etched in his features. "Mills, you don't have to?—"

"I am," I assert with a decisiveness that even takes me aback. This seems to stir something profound in him; his eyes shift, growing darker, a hunger mirrored in his look.

My fingers grab the side of his shorts, then I move them down, and his cock springs up in all its glory. He really does have a beautiful cock. I have only seen one other cock in my life, unless you count porn, which Payson made me watch on a dare in high school. The head is thick, all big veins, red and angry. I lower my head and swipe my tongue across the precum decorating the tip. I flick my tongue back and forth before slowly bringing his cock into my mouth an inch at a time until the warm texture hits the back of my throat, making me gag for a second.

And I know he likes that, knowing he didn't stop the first time I gave him head in his truck. If anything, it made him more turned on. I feel his balls tighten as he lets out a hiss and I can't resist a smile.

His grin, the one that unfailingly unleashes a storm of butterflies in my stomach, lights up his face as he murmurs, "Absolutely fucking perfect, Mills." Right then, his words aren't just an expression of love; they empower me, make me feel powerful, sexy.

Miles, he's everything I've wanted.

Everything I have needed.

My movements become quicker, more fervent. He reaches out, gently placing a finger under my chin, lifting my face toward his. "As much as I love your mouth on my cock baby, not right now. Right now, I want you. I want to show you how much I love you."

My heart flutters uncontrollably. It's the kind of moment every romantic soul pines for—to hear, to feel, to experience. And now, it's my reality. I've been longing for this closeness with Miles, and here it is, unfolding before me.

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