‘Step out of them,’ he orders gently, and I do as I’m bid, trying to focus on what’s likely to come next. I don’t have to wonder for long. Heat meets me between the thighs. The source? Miller’s fingers.
‘Oh God!’ I clench my eyes shut as he strokes up my centre. It makes me push myself farther into the wall in a pointless attempt to escape his teasing tactics.
‘So fucking wet,’ he growls, taking his finger back down and pushing into me, applying pressure on my front wall. My palms slap into his shoulders and push until my arms are braced at full length between us. ‘Turn around.’
I swallow hard and try to filter his instruction, but his fingers are still inside me, motionless, and moving will instigate friction, which will instigate crumbling to the floor in a pile of want and lust. So I stay where I am, frightened to enhance my craving.
‘Turn. Around.’
I shake my head obstinately, biting down harshly on my lip, digging my short nails into the flesh around his collarbones. Suddenly, a hand knocks my arms away and his body is flush with mine, putting more force behind his fingers buried inside of me.
‘No!’ I have nowhere to hide. I’m pinned to the wall, helpless.
‘Like this,’ he mumbles, biting his way from my chin to my cheek. Miller keeps us as close as possible as he turns me, ensuring his fingers remain submerged. As I feared, the sensations of my movements only heighten my wanton state, and I start to take deep, controlled breaths to stop myself from yelling my heady despair. ‘Hands on the wall.’
I comply immediately.
‘Back you come.’ One hand takes my waist and guides me back, and then his foot taps my ankle, making me widen my stance. I’m wide open, totally at his mercy. ‘Comfortable?’ He twists his fingers inside of me, making my arse shoot back and collide with his groin.
‘Miller!’ I shout, letting my heavy head fall to the wall.
‘Are you comfortable?’
‘Yes!’
‘Good.’ He releases my waist and a moment later, I feel the hard, broad head of his arousal meet my entrance. I hold my breath. ‘Breathe, sweet girl.’ It’s a warning and all of the air sails from my lungs as his fingers slip from my passage, making way for his hard cock. I’m not left absent of fullness for long. He slides in on a disjointed prayer, robbing me of breath again.
I feel complete. ‘Move,’ I plead, pushing back onto him, taking him to the hilt. ‘Miller, move.’ I push into my arms, bringing my head from the wall, letting it roll back on my neck.
My plea is answered. Soft palms rest lightly on my hips, his fingers flexing in preparation. ‘I don’t want you to come, Olivia.’
‘What?’ I gasp, beginning to shake just at the thought of restraining my climax. They come out of nowhere, mostly. He’s the Special One – talented beyond mine and his own comprehension. ‘Miller, don’t ask the impossible!’
‘You can do it,’ he pointlessly assures me, grinding into my bum. ‘Concentrate.’
I always concentrate. It gets me nowhere, so I have to rely on his expert teasing tactics, where he holds me in limbo. The torture that awaits me lands hard in my desire-saturated mind. I’m going to be screaming my despair, maybe even scratching and biting him. He always holds me in no-man’s-land, so just the fact that he’s warned me is worrying.
I clench my eyes shut and release a broken cry when he leisurely withdraws until only the very tip of him is submerged. ‘Miller.’ I’m begging already.
‘Tell me how you want me.’
‘I need hard,’ I confess, stopping myself from firing back and finding that delicious fullness.
‘How hard?’
His question surprises me. And so does my answer. ‘I want everything you have.’
He stills behind me. He’s considering my answer. ‘Everything?’
‘Everything,’ I affirm. His power and energy will strip away so much agony. I know it will.
‘As you wish.’ He bends, bringing his chest down to my back, and bites into my shoulder. ‘I love you,’ he murmurs, kissing at his bite mark. ‘Do you understand?’
I understand perfectly.
‘Yes.’ Pushing my cheek into his face, I make the most of the scratchy feel of his stubble before he rises and takes an audible lungful of air. I brace myself.
Yet no amount of bracing stops my yelp of shock when he pounds forward. I half expect him to freeze and panic at my shout, but he doesn’t. He swiftly retreats and flies forward on a roar. Those first few drives set the pace. He’s relentless, unforgiving. His fingers dig into my flesh and yank me back repeatedly, pushing cry after cry past my lips. I have every faith that he can detect my frame of mind, so I don’t try at all to stop my constant yelps. Every crash of his body into mine spikes one, and it’s not long before my throat feels raw and dry. It doesn’t stop me, though. My body isn’t my own. Miller has full control of me and he’s making the most of it. He’s almost brutal, but the passion and want mingling between us holds me firmly in utter ecstasy.
He keeps up his merciless tempo until it’s only him holding me up. There are barely any gaps between his groin slapping against the flesh of my bum, the sound getting louder the sweatier we become. The deep penetration isn’t only filling me literally; it’s filling me mentally, every thunder forward reminding me of this wonderful place I find myself in each time he takes me – whether controlled and gentle or brutal and unforgiving. There’s no control here. At least there doesn’t appear to be, yet I suspect it’s there. No, I know it’s there. I’ve come to learn that no matter how he chooses to have me, it’s all worshipping. It’s all undertaken with unremitting love backing it up.