Page 115 of Here and Now
I wish you luck, my friend.
Thanks for the concern, everyone, but I’ve got this.
At least I hope I do.
twenty-two
Miles
“That was fucking incredible,” I tell her after another round of mind-blowing sex.
She lets out a soft laugh, turning her head to face me and still panting. “Yes, yes, it was.”
I came over around nine, and it’s already one in the morning. I have interviews today, and I really should get some rest.
“I should probably go. I’m starving and need to sleep.”
She rolls over, pulling the sheet up to her chest. “You can stay. I have food and a bed you can get some sleep in.”
“I think we’ll end up not sleeping.”
Penelope smiles. “Probably.”
I get up, looking over my shoulder to catch her staring at my naked ass. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m not going anywhere.”
“What if I don’t want you to leave?”
Fuck. This girl is going to be the death of me. I can’t get enough of her. “Say the word and I’ll climb back in bed and eat something else.”
She pushes up on her knees, crawling toward me with her breasts swaying.
I nearly growl. “Fuck it, who needs sleep?”
I grab her hips, tossing her on the bed, and she giggles. I slowly crawl up her body, kissing my way as I go. My tongue circles hernipple, and then I suck it hard. I do the same to the other, listening to her moans and gasps.
Penelope’s fingers tangle in my hair, holding me there so I continue a little longer, but that’s not what I want to taste.
I take her hands and pin them above her head. “Keep them there,” I command. “Do you trust me to make you feel good?”
Her blue eyes are wide, but she nods. “I trust you.”
Those words fill me with a pride that has me ready to conquer the world. “I won’t betray it.”
“I know.”
I’m not just talking about now. I would never hurt her. I’m going to test her trust, though.
“I want to tie your hands to the bed. I’m not sure you won’t move otherwise. Will you let me?”
She nods.
I reach down and grab the belt off her robe she was wearing when I got here, and I walk over, wrapping it around her wrists and then to the wrought iron spindle on her frame. It’s not tight—she could easily get out of it with one pull—but it at least gives the illusion.
“Are you wet for me, Penelope?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“I bet you are. Such a good girl being sprawled like that for me. You are so beautiful like this. I got you.”
