Page 71 of Falling

“Yes,” I reply, pushing off him. He pulls his jersey over my head, and when it’s free, he dives back into me, kissing my exposed chest. I have no idea what I’m doing, what I’m inviting to happen, but his mouth is too skilled, and it has no business turning me on this much. “God, that’s good.” He bites me, and I gasp. “Don’t give me any more of those stupid hickeys, Miles, I swear to God.”

He laughs against my skin. “I can try not to.”

“You better.”

He replies by slipping his hand up the material of my sports bra, his fingers splaying out across my breasts.My head lolls back when he brings his fingers to my nipples, teasing me in the most maddening way.

“You feel so soft,” he whispers, “so fucking good.”

I don’t know how I’m going to get this to end. I don’t know if I everwantit to. The roughness of his hands isn’t like Augustus’s. They’re purposeful and masculine like they know what they want.

I grind into him again, and he groans, squeezing my hips. His nails dig into my exposed skin, and a pathetic part of me hopes he leaves marks there. He moves me over him faster until I’m grinding in his lap, my mind spinning out of control.

“Miles, fuck,” I cry. He's masterful with the way he rolls my hips, hitting the pressure points just right until his dick presses into my core. His kisses across my chest get more intense, and his hips buck up, and I need to dull the ache between my legs as soon as possible. “I need more. Please.”

He pinches my nipple, and I whimper. “More?” I nod, my lips pressed together. “How much more do you need, baby?”

“I don’t know,” I reply.

“Wren.”

“I don’t know,” I say again, angrier. I wish he could just take the initiative sometimes instead of pestering me to find out what I actually want when, most of the time, I don’t know what that is. I’ve never felt so powerless while feeling like I could explode at the same time.

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“Just keep touching me. Please,” I whisper. He kisses me again, but it isn’t enough. My voice shakes as I say again, “Please.”

He’s clearly reduced me to begging, and I hate myself for it.

He flips us over until he’s on top of me, and he slides down the length of me. His fingers hook into my leggings and my underwear, and he looks up at me, “Can I touch you here?” I nod, my chest heaving. “Talk to me, baby. Can I take these off and see that pretty pussy of yours? I want to see how badly you want this.”

“Yes. Take them off,” I say, watching him slowly take them off me. His mouth pops open when he sees how wet I am, and I moan just at the sight of him. It’s been way too long since I’ve had someone between my legs, and Miles looks capable enough to do a good job. “Are you going to touch me or just stare?”

“Do you ever shut your mouth?” he groans, kissing my stomach and up my chest.

“Not really,” I mutter as his hand presses my legs open, his mouth branding across my chest and my neck. I suck in a breath as one of his hands braces beside my head and the other swipes my clit. I’m soaked. I close my eyes, rocking my head side to side with both pleasure and frustration. “Can you hurry up?”

He laughs against my neck and teases his thumb against my core. My hips buck up, writhing beneath him until he finally pushes two fingers inside me. It’s tight, and the sensation is otherworldly. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good. With his weight over me, the hypnotizing smell of him, and how full he’s making me feel, I might burst into flames.

“So fucking tight, baby,” he mumbles into my neck.

I suck in a sharp breath. “I haven’t done this in a while.”.

“That’s okay,” he whispers, “I’ll take care of you. Will you let me take care of you, Wren?”

“Yes.”

He groans when he pushes into me again, and I clench around him. I’ve never been shy when it comes to sex, but I don’t have much experience to compare it to. I didn’t think going all the way was such a big thing until Augustus and I first had sex. Before we were official, I had slept with someone that Scarlett had set me up with, and he didn’t know it was my first time, and it was nice. It was nice that it just felt like a regular hookup to him and not this huge milestone. But Augustus couldn’t let it go. I was eighteen, and he made it into a whole thing, put together a PowerPoint and everything like he was trying to mansplainmyvirginity to me.

But Miles Davis isn’t like that atall.

He’s soft but playfully rough in all the right ways. He nips and sucks at my neck like he’s trying to leavemoremarks as I grind into his hand, and I’ve never been this turned on in my life.

“Were you this wet for me the other day, princess?” he asks, his voice silky smooth as if his words aren’t filthy. He pushes into me hard and fast while his lips stake claim to my throat.

“God, Miles.” I sigh. I can’t think of any words right now. All I can think and feel ishim,and I don’t ever want him to stop.

“Don’t have such a smart mouth with my fingers in your pussy, huh?” he rasps, nudging his nose against my neck. His thumb brushes against my clit, and I cry out, shamelessly grinding into his hand. “Is this good for you, Wren?”

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