Page 53 of Ride By Your Side

This answer seems to satisfy her, as her smile widens. “Then take advantage of what little time you have, especially when that wife is so incredibly willing and desperate to let her husband do whatever he wants to her,” she says, uncrossing her legs before letting them spread apart.

“Fuck,” I inwardly curse, my resolve weakening as I carefully set the butter knife down on the counter and turn to face her. “This is something you really want?” I ask, needing to hear her say the words out loud.

I’m not an idiot. I know when a woman wants to be fucked, but this with Veronica feels different and so much more complicated. There are so many this could go wrong, and while I’d love to tear off her clothes and take advantage of her in every way she’s begging me to, I can’t rush into this. I have to be logical.

“It’s what I want, and I know you want it too. Just do it, Miles. Take what you want from me,” she all but whispers, as my eyes fall to her beautiful, plump lips.

“This is only a one-time thing. You know that’s all this can be, right?” I clarify.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then sure.”

“Vee,” I say, needing her to take this seriously because I sure as hell am.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, because I think I’m going to need more than one round to get you out of my system. But I will say this: we can make this a short-term thing, and only until our annulment goes through, because why shouldn’t we? We’re two willing and consenting adults. Why can’t we take advantage of what’s right in front of us?”

There are still so many reasons running through my head as to why this is such a fucking horrible idea, but I’m tired of fighting it—especially when I seem to be the only one left doing so.

“Fuck it,” I say, fully giving in as I take a step toward her. My hand lands on the back of her neck, my thumb cradling her jaw as my mouth finally crashes into hers. A guy can only handle so much temptation—especially when it looks and sounds exactly like the woman who’s been consuming my every last thought for the past two weeks.

31

Veronica

Mybodyignitesthemoment Miles’s lips crash against mine, an all-consuming fire I couldn’t extinguish even if I wanted to. But why would I? I’m done denying that this isn’t something I want.

I’ve kissed my fair share of men, even one I thought was my forever. But this? This is different. It’s more than just a kiss—it’s raw, desperate, and overwhelmingly intense, almost as if he needs to claim every inch of me before all of this disappears. But I can promise I’m no Cinderella, and there’s no clock striking midnight to scare me away. I want this—I want him—every heated, breathtaking second of it.

It’s intoxicating, or ratherhe’sintoxicating. His passion isn’t just something I feel; it’s something being seared into my soul, leaving a mark I know I’ll never shake. This moment will be a part of me forever, and I’m completely okay with that.

With one hand cradling my neck, his other lands on my waist as he pulls me into him. Needing to center myself, I let my armsdrape over his shoulders, my fingers immediately tightening in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips, silently begging for entry, which I happily oblige, savoring every inch and touch that he offers me, especially given how hard I’ve had to work for this.

Maybe getting someone to kiss you shouldn’t be a battle, and under normal circumstances, I’d wholeheartedly agree. But right now? With his lips devouring mine as though he’s been equally starved for this moment, and the electric pull radiating through every inch of my body, I couldn’t care less about what I should or shouldn’t allow. All that matters is how this man makes me feel, and how I’ll do whatever it takes to uncover more of him. If this is how he kisses, I just know he knows how to fuck.

Wrapping my legs around his middle, I pull him into me, needing to feel pressure on my aching center. He complies, moving even closer, as the hand by my cheek dips lower, gliding over my clothed chest before palming me through the thin fabric of my top. I press myself into his touch, moaning into his mouth.

His hand sinks even lower as his lips leave mine, peppering a trail of kisses along my neck and jawline. I’m not even sure which sensation to focus on. I’m obsessed with the way his lips feel as they work their magic, but it’s hard to ignore the sensation of his hand sliding under my shirt before moving back up. I’m sure I deserve to be tortured, considering how I came in here openly teasing him, but it’s clear this man knows exactly what he’s doing as his hand moves achingly slow toward my breast.

No one can say I didn’t come prepared, as I purposely chose to go braless. It might not have been fair to use my body like this, but I’m desperate for him, and that desperation is likely obvious as I unconsciously whimper, my head tipping back as his lips continue their trail upward as his hand cups my breast. I strain, arching my back into it.

I don’t have the time to be embarrassed. I’m way too engrossed in the way his hand moves over my sensitive skin before he runs his fingers over my pebbled nipple, simultaneously nibbling on my ear lobe before pulling back.

My body wants to cry at the loss of contact. While a part of me spirals into panic, fearing he might be having second thoughts, he instead reaches down, gently lifting my top over my head. I willingly oblige, raising my arms.

I’m ready for him to get back to business, but instead, his eyes take me in as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “So damn perfect,” he compliments. Maybe with anyone else, I’d feel shy and self-conscious, but not with him. If anything, I can’t help but feel pride in the fact that Miles fucking Bennett thinks I’m perfect. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to my now freed nipple, running his tongue over it before giving it a light nip, his free hand palming the other.

I lean back on the counter, pressing myself toward his mouth, savoring the way his tongue works so expertly on my nipple. My legs cling to his middle even tighter before he switches sides, giving the other breast equal attention. The possibility of me coming from this alone feels incredibly real, but I’m not given enough time to test the theory as his mouth moves down my body, taking his time as he peppers kisses along my skin.

Despite my desire to completely immerse myself in the moment, I find myself unable to resist the urge to open my eyes and meet his captivating icy-blue gaze as he reaches the top of my shorts.

“Miles,” I whine, my lower half unconsciously writhing, needing him to go lower, and I don’t even care if he hears the distress in my voice. I need him, and I need him now.

One of his rare smiles crosses his lips as he slips his fingers into the sides of my shorts, lowering them down my legs, untilI’m completely bare to him. He carelessly tosses them onto the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, Veronica. Who knew my wife had such a perfect, and pretty little pussy? And it’s soaking wet just for me,” he murmurs appreciatively, taking me in before lowering his head between my thighs. Instead of giving me what I want right away, he takes his time, lavishing attention on the sensitive skin of my thighs before thankfully getting dangerously close to my aching center, which is all but begging for attention.

“Please, Miles,” I cry out once more, desperate for relief.

---