Page 96 of Fighting Fate

"Kissing you is like breathing," he murmurs, his words trailing shivers down my spine. My heart dances with excitement, yet I tread carefully. Deep emotions have a way of sparking rash admissions.

Just enjoy the moment, Milli.

Miles' lips find mine once more, blending urgency with longing. His hands grip my hips, drawing me nearer. The light material of his athletic shorts doesn't conceal much, and his low groan, murmuring, "Mills," fans the flames of desire inside me.

He bites my lip. "No bra today, Mills?"

His observation, both casual and intense, is spot on. The rush from tutoring to dance practice left no time for such considerations and, by his heated gaze, I can tell it was the right choice. The spontaneity of my visit suddenly feels even more thrilling.

I let out a soft laugh, but it's quickly transformed into a gasp, then a moan, as Miles lifts my shirt, his fingers tracing a path along my skin. A wave of heat flushes my face, my breaths quickening.

He lifts my shirt higher, baring me entirely. A soft curse escapes him as he looks at me, awe and yearning intertwined in his expression. My head tilts back, lost in the torrent of sensation washing over me.

"Goddamn, I thought I had my fill, but seeing you now..." he murmurs, pulling my shirt off in a fluid motion, discarding it.

Under the bright kitchen lights, clad only in yoga pants and quirky socks, I might have felt exposed, but Miles' gaze, full of sheer admiration, leaves me feeling nothing but empowered and cherished.

Standing there with Miles, I've never felt more exposed, yet so electrified. The previous times we met, shadows and dim lights shielded us, but now, in this blatant visibility, there's an exhilarating thrill. He grips my ass firmly, sending me to the brink. A smirk curls my lips; I arch an eyebrow in silent challenge. I thought I'd be the one steering us tonight, but damn, the way he takes charge—it's a whole new level of hot.

His touch dances between pain and delight, nails gently pressing in, then caressing away the very traces they create, sending ripples of pleasure through me.

God, I hope those leave marks.

Those romance novels and fantasies? They were just rehearsals. But with Miles? It's like I'm ready for the main event.

He presses his hips into mine, his hardened length creating just enough friction to elicit a needy whimper from my lips. Miles swallows the sounds with a guttural groan of satisfaction.

He pulls back, breathless. "Fuck, Mills, who knew you had such sexy little whimpers in you?"

I'm tempted to retort, "You could've heard them ages ago," but the words never leave my mouth. Instead, I remain silent as his hands glide down my exposed back, over my hips, and gently curve over my stomach. His thumbs tease my hardened nipples.

"More, Miles, please," I find myself begging. It's like I'm living in one of those steamy scenes from my books, and I'm the star.

He complies, rolling my nipples beneath his skilled fingers, then pinching them firmly. He plays me just right. "You like this, Baby Sutton?" he teases, and I know he's just making me admit it.

Our eyes lock, and I'm nodding, breathless.

"Keep going, Mills? Like how I'm playing with your tits?" he asks, and I can only gasp, "Yes." He pinches my nipple, sending a throbbing pulse straight to my clit.

"Think I can make you come from just this?"

Once, I might've laughed off the idea. But with Miles, suddenly anything seems possible. "Try me," I challenge, our eyes still locked.

He chuckles lightly and then claims my mouth again, our tongues tangling in a fiery dance. I pull him closer until my breasts press against his rock-hard chest. Every inch of our bodies is touching, and still, it's not enough. I want us naked again. I want him inside me. I'd let him take me right here on this counter, where I could let him replay it in his mind every time he passed by, or I could revisit the memory every time I came to visit him and Luke at their house.

Reminding him, us, just how freaking good it is between us.

Reveling in the intense connection between us, Miles tightens his grip on me, rolling my nipples between his fingers while our lower halves keep grinding against each other. At this point, I'm amazed I'm still on the counter with the fervent dry-humping we're engaged in, my hips moving in sync with his every thrust. We both look down, captivated by the sight of our bodies sliding against each other.

"Fuck, Mills," he pants, his breaths ragged. "You feel incredible." He's all over me, and I'm caught up in the intensity of it. His hands, his mouth, his everything—it's overwhelming in the best way.

My head falls back as Miles takes my right breast into his mouth, sucking with the kind of hunger that ignites my desire. I watch as he continues to lavish attention on my breasts. Using his teeth, he pulls at my nipple, and our eyes connect. With a wet pop, his tongue darts out, trailing all over my nipple, and I let out a low whimper.

"Don't stop, please," I'm practically whimpering. It's like every nerve in me is on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out. I'm dripping wet, on the edge of ecstasy, feeling the pulsing waves of pleasure building within me. It's the combination of grinding against his hardness and the hot, wet sensations on my nipple that drive me wild. His strong hands cup my ass to keep me in place as he continues to thrust against me, his cock brushing against my clit with each roll.

"Y-yes," I breathe out.

As he keeps grinding into me, he slams his hand against the island counter next to us, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips. "Jesus."

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