Page 134 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

Maddie

“You sure Jake is okay watching Penny overnight?” I ask as we stumble into the hotel room, the door closing behind us.

“He said it was fine.”

“You’re lucky I brought my pump.”

“Mm-hmm.” The pump carrier lands with a thump by the door. “Now, come here.” Milo pulls me against him and tangles his fingers in my hair, tugging at the roots as he connects his mouth with mine.

He tastes like whiskey and cinnamon, and I lick the seam of his lips, savoring the flavor and the feel of his short fingernails gently scraping against my scalp.

“God, I want you,” he growls. The room is blanketed in darkness, the only light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the back wall. Bending down, he grabs my dark red dress, hikes it up to my thighs, and picks me up. Without any prodding, I wrap my legs around his waist and snake my arms around his neck as he holds onto me like I’m a lifeline.

And I love it.

How I can be his lifeline, the same way he’s always been mine.

My hips rub against his abs, nothing but his shirt and my underwear separating us from the feel of his hot skin against my bare thighs.

“You should take off your shirt,” I suggest, my fingers fumbling with his buttons. “Actually. You should take off all your clothes.”

He chuckles, sets me on the king-sized bed, and slides off his shirt and pants. My mouth waters as I take in the dark spot on his black boxers. The fact I do this to him––make him hard, make him drip––almost makes me come on the spot as I crawl over to him, the mattress soft on my knees, and tug at the cotton fabric. His hard cock springs free, weeping and ready. Rubbing my thumb along the mushroom head, I lean forward, twirl the tip of my tongue in the small, wet slit, and wrap my lips around him.

His low moan echoes throughout the otherwise silent room as his fingers tangle in my hair, shoving it away from my face so he can see me better.

“Do you have any fucking clue how good your mouth feels?” he groans as his hips slowly pump back and forth.

I peek up at him, the cords in his neck tightening when our gazes connect.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look right now? Your lips wrapped around me? The heat from your”––his cock hits the back of my throat––“sassy mouth?” He runs his fingers along my cheekbone, then rims my stretched lips and pushes himself into me with a bit more force as spit dribbles down my chin. But I love it. The way I’m turning him on right now. The lust in his eyes. The tightness in his muscles. I love it all. It makes me feel powerful. Like I’m a goddess. Like he’s at my beck and call. Like I have the power to bring him to his knees, the same way he’s brought me to mine.

With a light pop, I release the suction and cup his balls in my hand, gently massaging as I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, loving the soft little sounds coming from the back of Milo’s throat.

I can feel him watching me. His gaze is like a gentle caress as I take him back in my mouth and wrap my hands around the base, squeezing a little harder with every suck.

“Mads,” he orders, tugging my hair back.

I suck him deeper.

“Mads.”

Opening my throat, I dive back in, my eyes gathering with tears.

“Mads.” He rips himself free from my mouth, shoves me onto my back, and yanks my dress up. “You know how much I love coming down your pretty throat, but tonight, I want you.” Cupping my sex through my black thong, he smiles when he finds it damp from my need. “I wantthis.”

He shoves my underwear aside and taps his finger against my dripping slit before slipping into me. My back arches, and my mouth opens wide.

“Shit, Milo––”

“Sh…” He climbs the rest of the way onto the bed, his fingers pumping softly in and out of me.

“You ready?”

I nod and spread my thighs wider as he keeps my thong shoved to the side, pushing inside me. Stretching me. Filling me. Making me his. Like the first time we had sex. Like every time after. Owning me in a way only he’s ever been able to do.

My skin is damp with sweat as his weight presses me into the mattress. He pumps his hips faster and faster, and I meet every thrust with my own, loving the bruising grip he has on my thighs and the way his breathing is more and more staggered with every second, bringing us closer to oblivion.

Together, we chase it. Climbing higher and higher until my toes curl and my muscles tense, only to be replaced with a lightness, making me feel like I’m floating.

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