“Oh, God.” Dropping her head, Hope gave herself over to the sweeping pleasure she’d only experienced at the hands, and now mouth, of this man.
Chapter 7
Miles went to his knees before the carnal feast of Hope’s pussy, pulled her labia open and didn’t bother wasting time admiring the swollen, glistening pink walls of her vagina. He swiped his tongue up her opening then delved deep with a quick thrust. Her muscles contracted around his tongue, but he fought their pull. Teasing the sensitive tissues, he added a finger to build the pleasure faster. It took a lot to rattle Miles, but seeing the puckered wound of a bullet marring her soft skin had left him shaken in a way he hadn’t experienced since the night he’d failed to save his mother. He wanted nothing more than to give her the pleasure she deserved then send her home so he could make sense of his volatile reaction to that scar and its implication.
Pulling back, he continued to finger-fuck her as he growled against her saturated flesh, “Come for me, Hope. Now.” Pursing his lips, he sucked on her clit, drawing on the small bundle of nerves with taut suctions and small nibbles until her inner walls clamped around his finger. Her juices gushed into his mouth as she came apart, her muscles quivering with the strain of her climax, her mewling cries music to his ears.
He didn’t let up after just one, driven to give her as much pleasure as he could wring from her body. As soon as the strong convulsions of her climax dwindled to small pulses, he went for another. Tongue and teeth tormented her clit as he added a second finger to pummel her depths. He took a moment to nip at the plump fold of her labia before returning to the swollen nub. She gasped with each erotic bite, whimpered with every stroke toward another orgasm and screamed with the onslaught of the next release. By the time her third climax was rolling through her, cold water trickled from her rectum and the melting ice cube but did nothing to douse the fiery heat of her responses.
Miles was as exhausted as Hope looked when he rose and helped her off the stool. His lips were numb, his tongue coated with her cream and his nostrils filled with her earthy scent. Undoing the ropes, he knew he needed to get her home and get his act together before deciding where to go from here.
Without a word, he spun her around and lifted her back onto the stool then stooped to pick up her panties and bra. “I… I can do this,” she whispered in a shaken voice, her eyes dilated as they looked from her underwear in his hands up to his face.
Ignoring her comment, he slid the bra over her arms and hooked it at the back then slipped the silk panties up her dangling legs, followed by her shorts. Plucking her off the stool, he yanked them up then handed her her top. “Put that on and I’ll walk you home. We’ll talk later,” he added, letting her know he wasn’t in the mood for idle chit chat on the way back to the shelter. She frowned but didn’t reply, just finished getting dressed and walked quietly next to him the two blocks to her place.
Bobby, Hope’s self-appointed night watchman, lounged behind the counter in the entry, his chair tipped back and eyes closed when Miles halted outside the double glass doors. Giving in to temptation, he clasped her face and swooped down to take that lush mouth in a brief but no-holds-barred kiss. One sweep of his tongue over hers transferred the lingering taste of her climaxes before he pulled back with a sharp bite to her plump lower lip. “I’ll call you.”
Pivoting, he left her with a bemused expression and clenched fists. When that look tugged on all his protective urges, he knew he was already in too deep for his peace of mind. His mind shifted back to that scar as he returned to the gym and conjured up a multitude of scenarios of how she could have gotten shot, each one a threat to his control. Their temporary agreement of sex only meant he didn’t have the right to grill her for a full recounting, and that made him want to pound on something. He needed to relieve some of his pent-up frustration at their whole situation before he exploded.
Turning into the alley next to the gym, Miles pulled his head out of his ass long enough to scan his surroundings. He half-expected, half-hoped Mateo would make another appearance tonight. In fact, he was surprised Joaquin’s brother hadn’t attempted to threaten him again in some way. It wasn’t like a gang runner to give up easily, and he ought to know. “Maybe next time,” he muttered as he entered through the back door, kicked off his shoes on the way to the gym then strode over to a hanging, eighty-pound punching bag.
Fifteen minutes later, Miles spun, lifted his leg and executed a back kick that sent the bag swinging just as Ed came strolling in. “I thought I told you not to wait up, boy,” he quipped with a teasing grin that faded when he saw Miles’ face.
Snatching up a small towel, Miles wiped his brow and neck then guzzled the bottled water he’d set on the floor along with the towel. “Very funny,” he replied after draining the bottle. “I was just getting ready to head upstairs.”
“From the look on your face and the sweat you’ve worked up beating on that bag, I’m guessing your evening with your girl didn’t go well.”
“You’re guessing wrong, it went just fine, and she’s not my girl,” Miles snapped. The scene with Hope had gone great, she’d submitted to his demands with little coaxing. What that meant, where he could take her from here, would have been exciting if it wasn’t for the plaguing questions about that scar and how much that alone affected his resolve to stay emotionally detached. Could he finish what he’d started with her without demanding to know the details of who hurt her? From the closed expression on her face when he’d questioned her, it wouldn’t be easy getting the answers he craved, and from the way she’d shifted her eyes to his own scar, might require giving up more of himself than he’d been willing to do with any other woman.
“I think you protest too strongly to be believed. You should ask her out.” Ed’s look turned taunting when Miles scowled at his suggestion.
“I told you, I don’t date, I—”
Ed held up his hand, forestalling his rebuke. “Yeah, I know, you just fuck. But Hope is different, so you should be different with her.”
“No, she isn’t,” he denied so fast even he winced.
Shrugging, Ed turned toward his rooms, delivering one last parting shot. “I like her, and I think you do too. Good-night.”
Ed’s words struck Miles with the painful thrust of an arrow to the gut because he was right, he did like her. But that just increased the risk of his temperament when it came to those he cared about and that, as his immediate reaction of cold fury upon seeing her scar proved, came too close to the surface where she was concerned. The best thing for everyone would be for him to fast track this temporary liaison forward then set her aside as a fond memory.
“Take her out,” he scoffed under his breath as he rode the elevator up. He’d be better off fucking her, then going back to keeping an eye on her from afar. Miles ignored the tightening in his chest when Hope’s flushed face as he’d lifted her off the stool swam into his vision.
“He hasn’t fucked you yet?” Krista asked Hope, her voice mimicking the incredulous looks pasted on Hope’s friends’ faces.
Hope winced, turning her head towards the peaceful view of the canal and slow-gliding boats drifting by. Seated on the back patio of Krista’s bungalow that she now rented out to Alessa after moving in with Dax, Hope had been enjoying their Tuesday night get-together and girl talk until the conversation focused on her and Miles’ relationship. Did the fact he hadn’t fucked her yet reflect poorly on her or him? Hope worried she was the one lacking, and he was regretting his offer to work out her interest in BDSM. After the multiple orgasms he’d driven her to last week, and the kiss he’d left her with, she prayed he had more in store for her.
“No, and you don’t have to rub it in, or make me regret I mentioned it.” Picking up her wine glass, she became suspicious of the shrewd look that entered Sandie’s green eyes and told her so. “I don’t trust that look, Sandie. What’re you thinking?”
Sandie stretched out her legs on the lounge and wiggled her toes with a sigh and mischievo
us smile. “Just that I think you need to shake that man up. He’s as uptight as Zach was when I first met him.”
Julie laughed. “From what I’ve heard, you taunted poor Zach until he had no choice but to fuck you or toss you overboard. That took guts, considering you two were alone on his yacht, miles from the mainland.”
Sandie waved an airy hand. “Exactly,” she admitted with a smug grin. “Sometimes you have to take control in order to get these guys to exert theirs. But once they do…” She fanned herself in an exaggerated motion. “Whew!”
Hope rather liked the idea of shaking Miles up but wasn’t brave enough to risk his full Dom retaliation. The idea of him using his hand on her bare butt again held a lot of appeal, but she shied away from pushing the risk of experiencing one of the implements she’d heard her friends mention.
“Keeping in mind I’m a newbie, what’d you have in mind?”
“I’m a newbie too, but if Miles’ only punishment has been by his hand, I can see why you’re leery. But, if you got off on that, odds are you’ll love anything else,” Julie said, flicking Hope a reassuring look from her seat next to her.
“Relax, you two.” Sandie looked at Krista. “What do you think? A spa day?”
“Ooh, good idea.” Krista downed her wine then asked Hope, “He hasn’t insisted you go bare yet, has he?”
Hope frowned in confusion then caught on and shook her heated face. “No, and that sounds too embarrassing to be pleasant.”
Sandie, Krista and Julie laughed aloud, and when Hope glanced at Alessa with a raised brow in question, the strawberry blonde just shrugged. Apparently, Hope wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what it would be like to rid herself of the protective barrier of her pubic hair.
“My first Master insisted on me getting mine lasered off, and trust me, I haven’t regretted it. I think a spa day is just the thing. You’re still shy, so his first glimpse of what you’ve done will knock him for a loop. If he doesn’t fuck you then, dump the idiot.” Krista turned to her best friend. “What do you think, Lessa? You’re the only one here not with someone from our guys’ little group.”
“Maybe some of us aren’t into kink,” Alessa returned with a frown at being singled out.