Page 103 of Packed Up In Vegas

His echoing FUCK! was one of the most satisfying sounds I’d ever heard.

The second we got back to our rental, Miles ushered us into the spacious bathroom and got the water running. Still damp from our time in the water, and barely clothed, I shivered from the air-conditioning. Miles pulled me close and I savored the warmth of his skin.

“Go as slow as you want, and don’t be afraid to hit the brakes,” I told him.

He chuckled. “Aren’t I supposed to be saying that to you?”

“I don’t think I’ve really hit the brakes for weeks. All my omega instincts are loving me getting railed regularly.” I stood on my toes and hooked my hands behind his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. He tasted like breathing on a mountaintop, or like when I used to chew peppermint gum on the walk to school in winter and inhaled what felt like pure ice. Hints of spruce and pine laced his scent, reminding me a bit of Amir, but without the sun-baked sweetness.

Miles got me under the hot spray, the dual showerheads making sure both of us were toasty.

“Are we getting naked during this shower or are we keeping the swimsuits on?”

Indecision flashed in his eyes for a half second before he reached around to tug at the knot holding on my top. “Fuck me, I tied this too tight.”

I giggled while he wrestled with the knot, letting him spin me around so he could unravel it with his teeth and then undo the knot holding it together at the back of my neck. I tossed the whole thing aside and spun back around to face him. His breathing was shallow, his pupils blown wide as he stared at me.

“You’re unfairly beautiful, you know that?”

“Starting to learn that, yeah. The pack is very good for my ego,” I said with a laugh.

Miles got to his knees and I felt rather like a goddess with a supplicant before me. I slid my fingers into his wet hair and pressed ever so slightly, just enough to let him know what I wanted without forcing him to do it. He followed the silent instruction, his hands sweeping around my waist and his mouth closing over my nipple. Electricity crackled from his tongue all the way down to my clit. I hadn’t even realized before the heat how much I liked their mouths on me like this. It hadn’t happened all that often before them.

I squirmed, panting and trying not to yank his hair. “Fuck, Miles.”

His fingers fanned over my back to press me closer, his tongue lapping at me like my skin was his first taste of food after starving. My clit throbbed, begging for friction when the best I could give it was a bit of pressure from squeezing my thighs together.

The second of relief as he switched to my other breast had my body shaking before the tension consumed me once more, and I rose on my toes. I dug my nails into his scalp, with pathetic, desperate sounds tumbling from my lips. If this was all he intended to give me tonight, I would savor every moment, even knowing I was likely to die of sexual frustration if he stopped.

Miles ever so slowly slid his hands down until his fingers curled into the strings holding my bikini bottom on. He tapped my back and I realized I’d been squeezing my eyes shut. When I opened them, the question was clear in his eyes.

“Please.”

He pulled the garment down with the utmost care, releasing my breast so he could make sure I stepped out of it without tripping. Both of my nipples were tight and dark pink, practically begging for more attention. He traced his fingers back up my legs and I shivered, waiting to see what he would do. His hands swept around to cup my bare ass and he pressed a kiss between my breasts and trailed further down. The shower was a steamy fog of candied apple and mountain air.

Miles rose to his feet and dipped down to kiss me. Without a word, he picked up one of the washcloths and lathered it up with soap, carefully scrubbing down my skin that had been covered in sweat and sunscreen and lake water. His eyes gleamed as he worked, thoroughly taking care of my soaped breasts before his fingers slid down my stomach to make sure the thatch of hair between my thighs was extra clean.

I clung to him to stay upright, rocking my hips against his fingers.

“I think I could get drunk on your scent alone. Maybe also on each of those delicious sounds you make.”

“Please. Miles, I need you.”

A low, delectable growl rumbled through him and had all of my nerves at attention. “How am I supposed to deny a request like that?”

I shucked his swim trunks to the floor and he stepped out of them with ease, letting me soap up my own hand and take hold of his cock.

“Fuck. Me,” he gasped out.

“I’m trying.”

His reactionary laugh immediately melted into a moan when I gave him a firm stroke.

“Wash up fast so we can work up an even better appetite for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

We both scrubbed down in record time, rushing through the shampoo and conditioner and making sure not a single ounce of Lake Mead remained on our skin. Then Miles scooped me up and carted me back to the bedroom while we dripped a trail behind us. My purr kicked on the moment he hovered over me and I locked my ankles behind him to pull him closer and feel the weight of his body.

---