Page 55 of Catch
I writhed under him, my wrists tugging uselessly against the cuffs. The loss of control was only heightening the intensity, making every sensation feel electric. Like nothing I’d ever felt before.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he murmured against me, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver straight through mycore. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me wide open as he devoured me with unrelenting focus.
“Miles, please,” I begged, arching into his mouth. The teasing was too much; I needed more. I needed him to push me over the edge.
He lifted his head just enough to meet my eyes, his lips glistening. “Please what?” he asked, his tone dripping with smugness.
“Don’t stop,” I panted, barely able to form words.
His grin was sinful and new. I’d never seen that kind of look on his face as he dipped back down, this time slipping a finger inside me while his tongue worked in perfect rhythm. My body bucked, desperate for more, but his firm grip kept me in place.
“So fucking perfect,” he muttered, his free hand sliding up to tease my nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through my entire body.
My breathing turned ragged, my thighs shaking as the pressure inside me built to an unbearable peak. “Miles,” I gasped his name again, my voice breaking as I tipped over the edge, every muscle in my body clenching as he drove me through the waves of my orgasm.
When he pulled back and looked down at me, he smiled at the overstimulated mess he had left me in. But his eyes were dark and blazing with hunger. His hands slid up my body, rough palms skimming my sides as he rose above me. The way he looked at me made me feel cherished, and as if he wanted nothing more than to worship me.
“You drive me crazy, Loxley,” he murmured, his voice thick with want. His hands gripped the hem of the oversized t-shirt I wore, pushing it over my head so that my breasts sat higher on my chest.
“Good,” I whispered, “It’s only fair.”
His laugh was low and sinful as he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was slow and deep. I could feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, the hardness of him straining against his sweatpants.
Without breaking the kiss, his hands moved to the waistband, pushing them off his hips the best he could without losing our contact. Lifting my feet, I pushed down as well, hoping to help him move faster.
Once he was completely bare and ready, he pulled back, watching my eyes widen as he pushed the weight of his cock into me. With one hand gripping my thigh, he pulled me open for him, while the other braced against the headboard near my cuffed hands.
“You ready for me?” he asked, his voice husky and strained.
“Always,” I breathed, “but I also want to touch you so bad.”
Shaking his head, he lined himself up and pushed forward, the stretch of him stealing the air from my lungs. Inch by inch, he filled me, until there was nothing left between us but heat and the steady rhythm of our breaths.
“Fuck, Lox,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine as he began to move, each thrust deeper than the last.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. The world outside ceased to exist as he claimed me, his hands roaming my body like he couldn’t get enough. Each roll of his hips sent a shiver through me, building a fire that threatened to consume us both.
“I’m never letting you go,” he murmured, his voice rough and full of promise.
I nodded, digging my nails into his shoulders as I held on for dear life. “I don’t want you to.”
We moved together, a perfect rhythm of need and surrender, until the heat became too much to bear and we tumbled over the edge together, lost in each other.
Before he pulled out of me, he reached into his nightstand and pulled the key to his handcuffs out. With my hands released, I grabbed onto his shoulders and squeezed, replaying the words he breathed in the heat of the moment.
“I’m never letting you go.”
Our lives were never meant to intersect outside the four walls of his home. But maybe they could. Maybe we could find a way to keep what we had found.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
MILES
“Can I sing for you?”
I froze, my hand hovering over her from where I had been softly stroking the skin on her back. “Please.”
If it sounded like I was begging, it’s because I was.
