One Night: Unveiled

  I pad over to him, his eyes following me until I’m looking down at him. He spreads his thighs, giving me room to move in. My hands rest on his shoulders, his on my bottom. Looking up at me, he sighs and swallows hard, then lets his forehead fall to my tummy. My hands climb the sides of his neck and thread into his hair.

  ‘I realise I sound needy and demanding,’ he whispers. ‘It’s not just because I’m worried. I’ve got so used to waking up with you and falling asleep with you. You’re the last thing I see before I close my eyes and you’re the first thing I see when I open them. The thought of not having that doesn’t sit well with me, Olivia.’

  I immediately comprehend his issue. We’ve not been separated for weeks. New York was a constant carousel of worshipping, things, and indulging in each other. We’re back to real life now. I smile sadly, unsure of what to say or do to make him feel better. Wild horses won’t keep me away from Nan. ‘She needs me,’ I murmur.

  ‘I know.’ He looks up at me and tries his hardest to bless me with one of his smiles. Tries. The worry awash his features won’t allow it to push through. ‘I wish I could control my need for you.’

  I do and don’t want him to control that need. ‘Need for me or need to ensure my safety?’ I ask, because that’s what matters here. I’m well aware of what’s beyond Miller’s front door.

  ‘Both.’

  I nod my acceptance of his answer and pull in a steady lungful of air. ‘You have always promised never to make me do something you know I don’t want to do.’

  He clenches his eyes shut and purses his lips. ‘I’m beginning to regret that.’

  My lips stretch into a smile. I know he does. ‘This isn’t an argument you’ll win. The only solution is you coming to stay with us.’

  His eyes snap open, and I rein in my grin, knowing the issue here. ‘How am I supposed to worship you at your grandmother’s house?’

  ‘You managed just fine the other day.’ I raise my eyebrows, loving his blues darkening before my eyes as he obviously mentally runs through our encounter on the stairs. On a slight scowl, he applies pressure to my bum and hauls me forward.

  ‘She wasn’t in residence.’

  ‘You make her sound like royalty!’

  ‘Well, isn’t she?’

  I huff my agreement and bend to get our faces level. ‘I’ve given you your options, Mr Hart. I’m going home with Nan. Would you do me the honour of joining me?’ I’m delighted when his eyes win a bit of sparkle and his lips twitch terribly.

  ‘I will,’ he mutters, trying to be grumpy when I know his illusive playfulness is fighting to break free. ‘It’ll be pure hell, but I’ll do anything for you, Olivia Taylor, including vowing to refrain from touching you.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that!’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ he says calmly, standing and lifting me to his waist. My ankles lock around his lower back as my face screws up in displeasure. ‘I’m not about to disrespect your grandmother.’

  ‘She threatened to sever your manhood, remember?’ I remind him, hoping to rid his conscience of this silly matter.

  His brow furrows beautifully. I’m getting him. ‘I concur, but now she’s ill.’

  ‘Which means she’ll struggle to catch you.’

  He loses the battle to contain his amusement and blinds me with one of his heart-stopping smiles. ‘I love hearing you scream my name when I make you come. That’s not going to be possible. I don’t want your nan thinking I have no respect for her and her home.’

  ‘Then I’ll whisper it in your ear.’

  ‘Is my sweet girl’s sass coming out to play?’

  I shrug nonchalantly. ‘Is the man I love pretending to be a gentleman again?’

  He inhales sharply, like I’ve shocked him. I’m not buying it. ‘I’m offended.’

  I lean in and bite the end of his nose. Then I lick a slow, wet trail up to his ear. I can feel his heart rate increase under my chest. ‘Then teach me a lesson,’ I whisper, low and seductively into his ear before I bite down on his lobe.

  ‘I’m under obligation to do so.’ In a fast string of expert moves, he shifts his grip and flings me onto the bed.

  ‘Miller!’ I squeal as I coast through the air, my arms flailing in shock. I land in the centre of his huge bed, gasping through my laugh as I attempt to win my bearings. I find him, standing at the edge of the bed, still and calm, looking at me like I’m his next meal. My heavy breathing rockets and I shift, trying to sit myself up as he watches me, his eyes all hooded and oozing desire.

  ‘Come to me, sweet girl,’ he says, his voice rough. It increases my heart rate further.

  ‘No.’ I shock myself with my refusal. I want to go to him. Desperately. I don’t know why I said that, and judging by the mild surprise creeping onto his face, Miller’s shocked, too.

  ‘Come. To. Me.’ He spells out each word, warning lacing his low tone.

  ‘No,’ I whisper teasingly, edging back a little, distancing myself from him. This is a game. A hunt. I want him badly, but knowing how badly he wants me is upping the ante, increasing our desire to a point that’s difficult to cope with . . . which makes the catch and kill so much more satisfying.

  Miller’s head tilts and his eyes twinkle. ‘Playing hard to get?’

  I shrug and glance over my shoulder to plot my escape. ‘I don’t feel like any Miller-worshipping right now.’

  ‘That’s a preposterous claim, Olivia Taylor. I know it and you know it.’ He steps forward and gazes down at the apex of my thighs. ‘I can smell how ready you are for me.’

  I wither on the spot, clenching my thighs shut, shifting in a vain attempt to hold off the want ripping through me. ‘I can see how ready you are.’ I centre my attention on his cock, visibly pulsing before my eyes.

  He reaches over to the bedside cabinet and slides a condom out slowly, takes it to his lips slowly, and rips it open with his teeth slowly. Then he watches me as he slides it down his hard shaft. That look is debilitating enough. It turns my blood into molten lava and my mind to mush.

  ‘Come. To. Me.’

  I shake my head, wondering why the hell I’m resisting. I’m about to explode. I keep my eyes on his, watching for his next move, seeing him widening his stance a little. I creep back some more.

  A mild shake of his head, knocking his curl into place, and a minute curve of his mouth catapults my need. My whole damn body is visibly vibrating. I can’t control it. And I don’t want to. Anticipation is sending me crazy with desire, and it’s my entire fault. He purposely, threateningly jerks forward and watches with amusement as I jump back on a little gasp. ‘Play all you like, Olivia. I’m going to be buried inside of you within ten seconds.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ I counter cockily, but before I can anticipate his next move, he’s barrelling towards me. Fast. ‘Shit!’ I yelp, and spin over, crawling to the edge of the bed urgently, but he grabs my ankle and yanks, spinning me to my back. I’m panting in his face as he cages me in with his body, breathing down on me, steady and controlled.

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’ he asks, scanning my face until his eyes land on my lips. He moves in and as soon as I feel the softness of his flesh brush over mine, I fly into action, catching him off guard. He’s on his back in a nanosecond, me straddling his waist, my palms holding his wrists over his head.

  ‘Always be on your guard,’ I breathe into his face before nibbling teasingly on his bottom lip. He groans, pushing his hips up into me, trying to capture my lips. I deny him, making him growl his frustration.

  ‘Touché,’ he quips, rocketing up and taking me back to beneath him. I make a feeble attempt of grabbing at his shoulders, but my hands are intercepted and pinned down. He’s smug, a sanctimonious grin on his otherworldly face. It heightens my sass and my desire. ‘Sweet girl, give up.’

  I yell my frustration and throw everything I have into getting free. My body shoots up and over, but the feeling of free-falling hijacks my sense of determination. ‘Shit!’ I screech
as Miller stealthily spins to his back, just before we come to land on the floor with a thud. There’s no shock or distress from him, and he’s only at the disadvantage for a split second before it’s me on my back again. I yell at myself, allowing the frustration to consume me. I also ignore the suspicion that he’s relenting willingly, letting me feel like I’m getting somewhere, before he regains the power.

  He’s gazing down at my heated face, his eyes wild with passion, one hand holding both of mine over my head. ‘Never act out of frustration,’ he whispers, dipping and taking the tip of my nipple between his teeth. I scream, totally ignoring his advice. I’m so frustrated! ‘Miller!’ I yell, and pointlessly writhe beneath him, tossing my head from side to side as I strive to deal with the pleasure attacking me from every possible angle. ‘Miller, please!’

  His bite drags across my sensitive nub, driving me wild. ‘You wanted to play, Olivia.’ He kisses the tip and spreads my thighs by wrestling his knee between them and forcing them apart. ‘Are you regretting that?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘So now you have to beg me to stop.’

  ‘Please!’

  ‘Sweet girl, why do you try to deny yourself of my attention?’

  My jaw tightens. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Neither do I.’ His hips shift and he rams forward, spearing me to maximum. ‘Jesus!’

  His shock invasion catches me by surprise but doesn’t make the full satisfaction any less gratifying. My internal muscles grab on to him with everything they have and I squirm to free my wrists from his iron hold. ‘Let me hold you.’

  ‘Shhh,’ he hushes me as he braces his torso up on his arms, keeping me locked beneath him. ‘We do it my way, Olivia.’

  I moan my despair, throwing my head back and arching my back violently. ‘I hate you!’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ he retaliates surely, rearing back and hovering on the edge of my passage, teasing me. ‘You love me.’ He pushes forward a little. ‘You love what I can do to you.’ Forward a little more. ‘And you love how it feels.’

  Bang!

  ‘Fuck!’ I scream, hopeless under his hold and helpless to his forceful attack. Not that I’d stop it. Not in a million years. I crave his power. ‘More,’ I gasp, relishing in the delicious ache he’s spiking.

  ‘It’s polite to look at someone when you’re speaking to them,’ he gasps, slowly pulling out.

  ‘When it suits you!’

  ‘Look at me!’

  I throw my head up and my eyes open on an angry yell. ‘More!’

  ‘Hard and fast? Or soft and slow?’

  I’m too desperate for soft and slow. I’m way past soft and slow, and I don’t even think Miller’s demand to savour it will assist. ‘Hard,’ I pant, lifting my hips sharply. ‘Really hard.’ I have no qualms, no fear or concern. I have his full devotion, his love and care, whether he fucks me or worships me.

  ‘Oh fucking hell, Livy.’ He pulls out, leaving me slightly confused and ready to object, but then I’m spun onto my hands and knees and my waist is grabbed harshly. I gulp, appreciating the depth that Miller can achieve from this position. Oh God, and hard, too? ‘Tell me you’re ready.’

  I nod, pushing my backside into him, longing for that deepness. He doesn’t hang around. There’s no easing gently in. He crashes forward on an ear-piercing bellow, sending me into a dazed euphoria of toe-curling pleasure. I scream, my hands balling into fists on the carpet, my head thrown back in despair. He’s merciless, barking on each pound forward, his fingers clawing into the soft flesh of my hips. The carpet feels rough on my bare knees – Miller is being uncharacteristically rough with me, yet the slight discomfort and unforgiving power of his body hitting mine doesn’t deter me. It has me begging for more instead.

  ‘Harder,’ I mumble weakly, letting Miller take full control, the strength to meet his punishing blows failing me. All I can focus on is the pleasure consuming me, taking over every single part of me.

  ‘Christ, Olivia!’ His fingers flex and dig back into my flesh. ‘Am I hurting you?’

  ‘No!’ I blurt, suddenly worried he’ll ease up. ‘Harder!’

  ‘Oh, you fucking dream.’ His knees widen, pushing my legs farther apart, and his pace accelerates, our bodies clashing loudly. ‘I’m going to come, Olivia!’

  My eyes close and all breath leaves my lungs as my mind empties, too. I’m in a dark, silent world, where my only purpose is basking in the attention that Miller delivers. There’s nothing else to steal my focus, nothing to distract me or ruin our precious time together. It’s just us – my body and his body doing incredible things.

  The pleasure is rising. Each collide of his body with mine is pushing me towards utter rapture. I want to speak, tell him how he’s making me feel, yet I’m rendered mute, unable to utter a word, only whimpers of despair and pleasure. I feel the pinnacle of his climax looming. He’s expanding within me, and a mighty roar snaps me back into the room. My orgasm takes me by surprise, and I cry out as it rips through me like a tornado. Every muscle I own engages, except my neck, which leaves my head dropping limply between my arms. Miller’s sharp thrusts accelerate once more to carry him over the edge, and he yanks my stiff body onto him. ‘Arhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ he bellows, and strikes with a force that’s only comprehensible if you’re on the receiving end of it. And I am. The sharp flash of pain that sears through me, mixing with the spikes of pleasure bubbling deep in my groin, takes everything out of me. ‘Fucking hell,’ he breathes, locking us together and holding us joined. I’m ready to collapse. Miller is the only thing supporting me, and when he unclaws his fingers from my hips, I lose that support, flopping to my front on the floor, heaving and gasping.

  The coolness of the carpet on my cheek is welcome as I watch Miller fall to his back next to me, his arms falling limply above his head, his chest expanding violently. He’s soaking wet, the taut flesh of his chest glistening from sweat. If I had the energy, I’d reach over and stroke him, but I’m useless. Completely incapacitated. But not enough to close my eyes and deprive them of the stunning sight of Miller post-climax.

  We both remain sprawled across the carpet for an eternity. My ears are being invaded by consistent and drawn-out gasps of breath. Finally mustering some strength from somewhere, I drag my arm across the carpet and brush my fingertip down his side. It glides easily, assisted by the dampness of his hot skin. His head drops to the side until his eyes find mine and exhaustion runs away, leaving behind some scope for talking. But he beats me to it.

  ‘I love you, Olivia Taylor.’

  I smile and put all of my effort into crawling on top of him, settling my body all over his, sinking my face into the comfort of his neck. ‘And I’m quite fascinated by you, too, Miller Hart.’

  Chapter 14

  ‘Let’s see, then.’ He’s waiting on the pavement outside the salon, and I can tell he’s extremely anxious. He’s fidgety, looking unreasonably stressed by the potential of my new haircut. I was delivered to the salon with strict instructions to trim minimal amounts, although Miller took it upon himself to reiterate those instructions to the hairdresser and only left when I forced him to, seeing how nervous he was making her feel with his curt orders. Miller watching over her probably would have landed me with something worse than I already had. My once long, wild waves are now smooth and glossy and bouncing just below my shoulders. Bloody hell, even I’m nervous. I reach up and run my fingers through them, thinking how silky they feel, while Miller regards me carefully. I wait. And wait. Until I blow out my exasperation on an impatient exhale.

  ‘Say something!’ I order, hating the scrutiny I’m under. It’s not rare for him to study me so closely, but the intensity isn’t welcome right now. ‘Don’t you like it?’

  He slips his hands into the trouser pockets of his suit, thinking hard. Then he closes the distance between us and drops his face into my neck as soon as he makes it to me. I tense. I can’t help it, except it’s not his closeness. It’s his quietness. After a long inhale, he s
peaks. ‘I don’t need to tell you that I was a little worried about the potential of losing any more.’

  I huff a cynical burst of laughter at his understatement. ‘A little?’

  He pulls away and hums thoughtfully. ‘I sense sarcasm.’

  ‘Your senses work well.’

  He gives me a wicked smile and moves in, locking his arm around my neck and pulling me in. ‘I love it.’

  ‘You do?’ I’m stunned. Is he lying?

  ‘I really do.’ Pushing his lips to my head, he takes another long inhale. ‘It’ll look even better when it’s all mussed up and damp.’ His fingers thread through and grip hard, pulling at my scalp. ‘Perfect.’

  It’s silly how relieved I am. Really silly. ‘I’m glad you like it, although if you didn’t, I’d have something to say. She followed your instructions to the word.’

  ‘I should hope so.’

  ‘You made her nervous.’

  ‘I was entrusting my most treasured possession to her. She should be nervous.’

  ‘My hair is my possession.’

  ‘Wrong,’ he counters quickly and confidently.

  I roll my eyes at his impertinence but refrain from challenging him. ‘Where to now?’ I ask, taking his wrist to check the time. ‘We’re too early for Nan.’

  ‘Now we have to pay someone a visit.’ He clasps my neck and leads me towards his Mercedes. Worry grips me. I don’t like the sound of that.

  ‘Who?’

  Miller turns an almost apologetic expression onto me as I look up at him. ‘I’ll give you three guesses.’

  Everything deflates. I don’t need three. ‘William,’ I sigh.

  ‘Correct.’ He doesn’t give me an opportunity to object. I’m guided into his car and the door shuts firmly before he strides around the front and gets in. ‘I really do love your hair,’ he says softly as he settles in his seat, like he’s trying to pacify me . . . ease me.