Page 55 of Outlier
“Holy shit, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” his voice sounded pained, and his breathing was fast. When he looked at me, his eyes were intense—dilated pupils with only a ring of golden fire around them.
“Please Mike,” I panted, and he groaned again before lifting me up off my feet in a sudden movement, so that my legs automatically went round his hips, and my arms around his neck.
“Bedroom,” he growled, and I smiled a very out of character, massive smile at him. He looked momentarily stunned. “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed then kissed me again.
I didn’t want him to get distracted from the whole progressing to the bedroom thing, as this seemed to be the most expedient route to what I wanted, so as soon as I could speak after the kiss, I told him, “Up the stairs, first door on the right.”
He took the stairs two at a time, not seeming to even notice my weight, and shouldered open my bedroom door without breaking stride until he’d laid me down on the bed. His large body hovered over mine, those golden-brown eyes searching my face as he smoothed my hair back from my forehead.
“You could have anyone you wanted,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “You realise that, right?”
“All I want is you,” I told him the honest truth, my hands coming up to either side of his face into his beard. “All I’veeverwanted was you.”
He growled as his body came down on mine, and I took his delicious weight whilst he kissed me again. But this time, I tugged at the bottom of his top until he took the hint and pulled it over his head in another incredibly attractive manoeuvre, using one hand to grab the back of the shirt and whip it off, all in a single motion.
“Oh my God,” I breathed as I took in the perfection of his chest, and then he was back on top of me again, pressing me down into the bed and moving against me as he kissed down my neck.
Somehow, my bra was gone in another smooth move, and I arched when his lips closed over my nipple, moaning again, repeating, “Please, please, please,” under my breath, not even having the experience to know what I was asking for, but knowing I neededsomething.
He moved back up my body until his mouth was by my ear.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, low and husky, and I shivered. “I’ve got you.”
He’d shifted slightly to the side so he could push up my skirt, then the heel of his hand was right there where I most needed the pressure.
My lower body moved of its own accord against him, trying to get more and more friction.
“Shh,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Now lift up for me.”
I raised my hips, and he pulled my tights and knickers off in another smooth move, then the pressure was back where I needed it to be again.
“Good girl,” he muttered in my ear, and it tipped me over the edge.
All the tension had been building and building. The reality of having this man in my bed, the knowledge that this wasn’t a dream—that it was really his body on top of mine was too much.
My eyes rolled back in my head; I arched against him, and then the tension broke as I was overcome with wave after wave of incredible bliss.
I saw stars as everything in my body exploded. The release was immense.
Mike kept his hand there, cupping me as I came down from the high. His other hand was at my forehead, pushing some of the hair that had stuck to the sheen of sweat there back from my face.
“Christ, Vicky,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We haven’t even gotten started yet, baby.”
“D-did I do something wrong?” I asked in a small voice, feeling exposed, and maybe a little weird now.
“No, love,” he said firmly, moving so that he was fully on top of me and staring straight into my eyes. “That was perfect. You’re perfect. You just…” He chuckled. “I guess you just arrived a little sooner than I anticipated.”
My face felt hot, and I tried to break eye contact by turning my head, but his hands came up to cup my face and hold it still.
“Hey, that’s not a bad thing, Vics. It just took me by surprise.”
The ache was starting to build again now that his weight was back on me fully, pinning me to the bed. I liked feeling that I was held down like this, that he was enclosing me, claiming me.
“I think it was you calling me a ‘good girl’,” I admitted. “I think that might be my thing. I’ve always responded really well to praise and performance-based outcomes.”
He groaned and started moving against me again.
“What am I going to do with you,” he asked, his voice pained, and his jaw tight.
