Page 86 of Fighting Fate

"Please what, Mills?" I whisper, pressing my chest to hers, feeling every shift in her breathing.

She pulls me closer, her movements urgent. My body reacts instantly, hard and ready. The thought of being inside her, once a distant fantasy, now feels like an irresistible temptation.

"Don't stop touching me," she breathes out, and my restraint shatters.

If this is how Milli always is, I'm in trouble. I've only had a taste, and already I know I'll never get enough.

My lips gently wander down her neck, my hands on a voyage of discovery, mapping the graceful arc of her knee, igniting trails of goosebumps along her inner thigh. My fingers graze the dampness through her underwear, and I shudder, a tempest of desire and restraint raging within me. A part of me hungers to surrender completely to this storm of passion, yet I remind myself that's not what this is about.

Milli deserves gentleness, and that's what I intend to give her. As one finger slips inside her, she murmurs a soft, "Oh, God," and her body presses against mine. I'm lost in the sensation as she moves against my hand.

"Mills," I groan, withdrawing my finger to trace her, spreading the wetness, her body responding with every touch.

Her legs widen, the urgency of the moment etched in every line of her body. She props herself up, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and lust. It makes me wonder if anyone has ever made her feel this way before.

I want to be the last one to bring her to this edge, to hear her, to see her like this.

As I circle her clit, her reactions grow more intense. "Baby, you're so wet," I say, my voice thick with satisfaction.

She nods, lost for words.

The intensity of our connection in the confined space of my truck is overwhelming, and I'm savoring every second. With one finger inside her, exploring, paying attention to every little response, I ask, "Does that feel good?"

"Yes, yes," she chants, her breath fogging up the windows even more.

No one can see us, but even if they could, I'm not sure I'd care. The thrill, the secrecy, it only adds to the heat of the moment.

"Keep going," she breathes out beneath me, her body a canvas of unspoken desires.

"Do you want me to keep going?" I whisper, my breath warm against her ear. I feel her move restlessly beneath me, a clear sign of her growing excitement. The longing in her voice sends a wave of exhilaration through me.

"Yes, Miles, just—awwh," she tilts her hips, her voice dripping with want, "just give it to me," she pleads.

"Like this?" I ask as I maintain a rhythmic dance with my fingers, moving in and out of her. The truck's cramped space fades into insignificance against the sensation of Milli's tightness gripping me, her wetness an inviting warmth.

"How's this for you?" I slow down, adding a second finger, teasing her before plunging back into her heat. Her sharp cry as I twist my hand sends a wave of satisfaction through me. Her head lolls to the side, her fingers digging into my back.

Those marks she's leaving, they're a reminder, a promise of more to come.

"You like that, Mills? Two better than one?" I press deeper, captivated by her needy sounds.

She manages a breathy, "Yes," her lips trailing over my skin.

"Tell me, in and out, or do you want more?" She shrugs, and I chuckle. "Come on, Mills. I know you've got some wild ideas from those novels."

"Both," she gasps, her words clipped with pleasure. I indulge her, fingers twisting and gliding, her wetness enveloping me. The truck is filled with our mingled moans and the slick sound of desire.

Her hips begin to move in sync with mine, our breaths ragged and heavy.

"Look at me," I command gently, remembering a conversation we once had. "Remember when I said I could teach you some moves? Really get your heart rate up?"

"Yes, yess," she whispers, her movements becoming more frantic. I push harder, lost in the raw sounds she makes.

I had never imagined Milli, usually so quiet, could be this vocal. The thought of what other sounds she could make, with me even closer, drives me wild.

I gently pull back, concentrating on her clit, and before long, she comes undone. Her voice cries out for me, fingers weaving through my hair—a victorious chant, my name from her lips sounding like the sweetest of triumphs.

"Hey, Mills," I call out softly. She's right there across from me, with the windows fogged up, the only sound in the truck is our heavy breathing. Watching her, I notice the rise and fall of her chest, the visible signs of her arousal marking her skin and my fingers. With a deliberate motion, I bring my fingers to my lips, savoring the taste of her. As my eyes meet hers, I see a flash of surprise, her cheeks coloring beautifully. With a smirk, I can't resist teasing, "So, how's that heart rate?"

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