Page 49 of Tangled in Vines

“More,” Mia gasped into my mouth. “Ethan.”

At some point—we did need to talk about this, but it was not this moment.

I was glad we were already naked; it made it easier. Her skin was hot, and her mouth even hotter as she kissed down my neck and played with the flat disks of my nipples. She kissed my belly and trialed her lips through the trail of hair under my belly button.

Her lips teased my cock with light touches, kitten licks, and tender suckles that made me lose my mind. “Mia,” I growled warningly. “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” she said impishly.

“Mia,” my voice was guttural as she teased me; the tiny tickles and flutter of her lips, down to the merest touch of her breath of me, made me wild. When she finally held me in her hands, her fingers encircling my cock only to lick a drop off my cock, I had enough.

Hauling her up, I growled. “Who knew you’re a goddamn tease?”

“You,” she smirked.

I slapped her ass. “I want you to ride me.”

She straddled me, and I cupped her pert butt, squeezing her cheeks as she leaned over and kissed me, reached over the table to pluck a condom from the drawer, opened it, and slid it over my cock. I held her hips as she lifted to guide me where she was hot, wet, and ready for me.

Mia’s breath hitched as she slid herself onto me, and I was no better, loving how her body enveloped me like a glove. She was so close to me, so hot, so unbelievably tight, inch by inch, as she slid down on me. She sat up on me, her hair loose, having lost its tie from God knows when, and it cascaded down her shoulders, a lovely tangled mess.

She closed her eyes, head tossed back, obviously reveling in the feel of this: how it felt to have me buried deep inside her from this angle. With my hands on her hips, I watched her with hooded, lustful eyes, my gaze tracing hotly over her breast and tight nipples. Her hips canted a little, and I desperately wanted her to move—but I was waiting for her.

Her body vibrated around me; her hands were flat on my belly, shoulders tight. Her breath was sharp and staticky before she opened her eyes and began rocking, lifting a little and sinking, using her knees and belly to fuck me.

She rode me slowly, to a languid roll of her hips in a testing way, before she leaned forward and braced her hands on my belly, bouncing a bit faster, her full tits inches from my face. My hands dug into her waist, and words were harsh and desperate.

“God, ride me, Mia.” I met her hips counterpoint to her descent. “Fuck yes.”

Mia inched her hands up to grab my shoulders while she slammed down on me, her breath fast and harsh. The slick sound of our bodies colliding, the erotic sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. Over and over, I fucked into her, and she took all of me.

“You feel so good, baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” I encouraged her.

“E-Ethan, please, I-I need you to…”

I got the message immediately and gripped her hips so we didn’t lose contact; I reversed our positions, her legs went around my waist, and I grabbed both of her hands to pin them above her head. Mia held on as I slammed inside her again and again, murmuring praise and encouragement in her ear as I fucked her.

Mia angled her hips so my body slapped into her clit every time I thrust into her. She ground against me, every fiber of being straining with the need to come. She began gasping, mouth open, the feelings too intense to be contained.

“You like this?” My tone was harsh with my own need as I urged her on. “Come, baby, come for me. Comenow!”

Her body locked up, her legs tight around me, her back arching off the bed, and she was coming, her body breaking up into a thousand pieces as I groaned in her ear as a blinding orgasm took me too.

Afterwards, I rolled onto my back, dragging her along with me, and Mia lay curled against my chest, her flushed skin pressed into mine. Together, our breathing slowed, and eventually, our skin cooled. And without a word, I drew the sheets up and over their bodies. We fell asleep— again.

* * *

I could feel someone looking at me, even before I was fully conscious. When I opened my eyes, I found Mia curled up on a chair, clad in another pair of my boxers and another tee. Her hair was as tangled as ever and thrown over her shoulder while she sipped a cup of coffee.

“So, you’ve raided my clothes and my kitchen,” I said thickly. “At what point do I start pressing charges?”

She laughed. “The coffee pot is still full if you want some.”

“Too late.” I sat up and made a gimme motion with my hand at her cup. “Hand it over.”

Mia rolled her eyes but slipped off the chair and handed me the cup; I took one sip and could feel my face twisting, “You…murderer. How dare you kill this sweet Jamaican roast with a bucketful of sugar and creme?”

“I like sweet coffee,” she said, swooping it from my hands. “If you don’t want it, give it back and go make your own.”

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