The Casanova (The Miles High Club 3) - Page 75

“Relax, nothing’s as scary as you.”

I scare him . . . I knew it.

I’m not imagining it, there is something here between us.

“I think my room is this way.”

“You really don’t know where your room is?” I laugh.

“The removalists put my bed up for me while I went to the art auction. I was only here for half an hour before I had to go.”

I giggle and we turn right and walk down to the end of the hall. He flicks the light on and a huge bedroom comes into view. It has ornate ceilings and beautiful original chandeliers, bay windows with window seats and so much character I could die. There is a large timber four-poster bed in the middle. This place looks as if it’s straight out of a romance movie.

“It’s a little dated,” he murmurs, and it’s apparent he’s uncomfortable with it the way that it is. He’s used to having the best of everything at his fingertips.

I gasp. “Are you kidding, it’s incredible.”

He walks me backward to the bed, and lifts my dress over my shoulders and throws it to the side. Silence falls between us as his eyes drift down my body. I can feel the heat as his gaze sears my skin.

I stand before him in my underwear, vulnerable and at his disposal, and when his eyes rise to mine, they are blazing with desire.

“Did you miss me?” I ask.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply, uninhibited and wild.

We kiss again and again and I feel his hard length as it pushes up against my stomach.

He can hide his emotions from me all he wants . . . but his body doesn’t lie.

It can’t, he has nowhere to hide.

Literally.

As we kiss, he takes my bra off and then slides down my panties, his hands roaming all over me as his kiss deepens. He grabs my behind and lifts me to rub me over his hard cock.

His breathing becomes labored, and holy hell . . . how this man makes me feel.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been with a man who physically affects me this way.

I take his shirt off over his head and then undo his jeans, and our tongues dance together.

The arousal between us is at fever pitch.

I slide his pants down and his cock springs free. He smiles against my lips and I give an excited giggle as he picks me up and my legs go around his waist.

We fall down onto the bed as we keep kissing, his body cradled in between my legs, and he slides his length through my wet flesh.

He stares down at me and I smile up at him in awe.

The tip of him slowly slides in and my breath catches as I lift my legs.

He closes his eyes and pulls out.

“What are you doing?” I stammer.

“Condom.”

“No, El.”

“Stop,” he snaps as he climbs off me.

He’s lost trust in me.

Back to square one, fuck.

He fumbles through his wallet and pulls out two condoms and I watch as he rolls one on, and when he turns back to me his demeanor has changed. My sweet El isn’t here anymore.

Elliot Miles, the hard-ass fucking machine has arrived.

Not that I’m complaining, I love him too.

He lies over me, and instead of the intimacy we shared only moments ago, he lifts my legs so that my knees are up near his shoulders. With dark eyes he rubs the tip of his cock back and forth through my wet lips.

“You want this?” he whispers.

I nod, unable to answer.

“Answer me,” he barks.

“Yes,” I whimper.

Satisfaction flickers in his eyes and he pushes himself in. Hard and unapologetic, my body struggles to take him. He pushes harder. Pinning me to the mattress.

I whimper again and he turns and kisses my knee, his tongue softly lapping at me. “Open,” he commands in a whisper against my skin.

“I’m trying.” I wince.

He pushes forward again and rotates his hips. “Try harder.”

A flutter of arousal shimmers through the sting and I smile softly. “That’s it.”

He rotates his hips again and my back arches off the bed in approval.

“Yes . . .” I pant. He pulls out and pushes back in and I moan. “Oh God.”

My body floods with moisture, allowing him to go deep, and he smiles darkly. “That’s it, baby, open up. Let me in.” He rearranges my legs over his shoulders and turns and softly kisses my foot.

Watching the intimate act brings a flutter to my heart.

He’s right here with me, I know he is.

He pulls out and slides back in deep, my body sucks him in, she’s ready to go.

He rotates his hips and I shudder deep inside.

Nobody fucks like Elliot Miles, he was born to do this.

The master.

He begins to ride me hard and deep and I close my eyes as I run my hands up and down his muscular back; I can feel every ripple on his torso.

Tags: T.L. Swan The Miles High Club Romance
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