Page 141 of Kingmakers, Year Two

He kisses me deeply, exploring my mouth with his tongue.

Then he slowly massages my thighs, using his big, warm hands to wake up the muscles, to send blood surging through my body. He knows exactly what he’s doing. As the neurons in my legs come alive, my pussy begins to throb, as if it too has come out of slumber. It aches to be touched. I want his fingers stroking me there and everywhere. I’m hungry and greedy for this man.

Now I’m grinding against Miles of my own accord, pressing my whole body against him, sucking and biting on his lips.

Miles unzips his pants and releases his cock. He pulls my underwear to the side and pushes his cock inside of me. There’s something so hot about him fucking me without undressing me, too eager to even take my panties off.

My skirt somewhat hides what we’re doing, but there’s no way anyone could be confused about the way I’m bouncing up and down on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, my hands tangled in his hair. Someone could walk through here any minute and I don’t give a fuck, I have to have him right now, I can’t stop riding him.

Miles puts his hands under my ass and stands, lifting me in the air. He carries me over to the aquarium window, pressing my back against the cool glass. Now he has leverage to fuck me as hard as he wants, using his powerful legs to drive into me. I’m sandwiched between the cold glass and his burning body.

I press my face against his neck, smelling his cologne and whatever he uses to tame those curls, the scent of his skin and his sweat. An intoxicating cocktail. My head reels. I lick the sweat off the side of his neck, and then lick his ear as well, sucking the lobe and biting it hard between my teeth.

“You naughty fucking girl,” Miles growls, driving into me harder and harder.

His fingers dig into my ass. The friction of my pulled-aside panties rubbing on my clit is driving me wild. It’s rough and almost too much. But nothing is ever too much with Miles. I can never get enough.

“Fuck me harder,” I beg him. “I want your cum dripping out of me the rest of the night.”

“You’re crazy,” he groans, and I know that he loves it, I know that he saw that spark of madness in me that very first day up on thewall. He knew that I wasn’t as quiet and controlled as I seemed, and he loved me for it, he wanted to unleash that in me all the more.

I want that, too. I want to be as bold as Miles, as brave as him. I want to go after everything I want in life without fear or hesitation.

“Make me cum and I’ll go anywhere in the world with you,” I promise him.

Miles pins me against the glass, fucking me senseless. I cum hard and fast, deep inside me in the place that only Miles can find, the only place that satisfies. As soon as he hears me moaning out, “That’s it, oh my god that’s it,” Miles cums too. That’s how I want it, that’s how I always want it — together, perfectly in sync.

We collapse against the glass, Miles still inside of me. He kisses the side of my neck, sending shivers down my body as if we didn’t just fuck. I want him again already, before he’s even pulled out.

“You make me so happy,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine.

“You’ve changed my whole life,” I tell him in return.

When we’ve tidiedourselves up enough to avoid rousing suspicion, Miles and I return to the party. Cat flops down at our table, exhausted from dancing with Dario Gallo, Caleb Griffin, and Teddy Boone in quick succession.

Miles goes to get drinks.

I take the opportunity to speak with Cat while we’re alone.

I tell her that Miles wants me to move to Los Angeles with him. I tell her that I’m thinking of going.

Cat listens, her big dark eyes already tugging at my heart.

“I want to go,” I say. “But I don’t want to leave you. I’m worried about you going back to school on your own.”

Cat sighs and gives me a small smile. “I’m going to miss you, Zo,” she says. “But you have to go.”

“I don’thaveto . . .”

“Yes you do. You never know how much time you have to do things. None of us know. You can’t waste another two years babysitting me.”

“But what if?—”

“Go, sis,” she interrupts. “Go, and don’t worry about me. I’m nineteen. Next year I’ll be twenty. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not even the same person I was last year. I’ve learned things. Done things.” She swallows. “Just go. I’ll be mad at you if you don’t.”

I take her hand and squeeze it hard.

“You’re sure? You won’t miss me too much?”

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