The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

Miller kissed me while I stroked him, and his hand slipped between my legs, feeling the heat and wetness he’d already created in me.

“Jesus, Vi.”

“I want you,” I whispered. “Now.”

His eyes searched mine again, his breath trembling over his lips.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He kissed me softly, then grabbed for a condom out of his wallet and rolled it down. I lay back, taking him with me. He positioned himself at the center of me, his body thrumming and vibrating over me. I brought my knees up, letting him in, my hands gripping his hips as he guided himself into me, one inch at a time.

My breath hitched at the pain.

“I’m hurting you.”

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Slowly, he pushed in farther, and I felt myself stretching to contain him, tearing open to take all of him. The pain was grating and rough but beautiful, too, and it subsided quickly.

“God, Vi,” he whispered. “I had no idea…”

“Me either,” I breathed back. We were utterly safe and private, sharing this experience completely with no one else in the room.

“Does it feel okay?” I asked him tentatively. Tightly.

He nodded against my neck. “Incredible. You feel incredible.”

We kissed again, easier now.

I was adjusting to the feel of him inside me, my body getting used to the size and heavy hardness of him. Slowly, he pulled out and then pushed back in. Over and over.

I bit my lip at the sensations, the fading pain and a faint ache of pleasure, like a promise waiting to burn brighter another time. His slow, careful thrusts quickly became more. He moved faster, kissing me constantly, holding my face, and asking me if I was all right. He never let me forget that he wasn’t losing himself in his own pleasure until finally the words melted away.

I wrapped my legs around Miller’s body, anchoring him to me as he moved inside me. My arms clutched his neck and my fingers in his hair that was damp with sweat.

He grunted, jaw clenched. “Vi…”

“Come,” I managed. “Come inside me.”

My words sent him over. Miller’s body shuddered against mine, his face contorted in a pleasure-pain expression. A few final, erratic thrusts, and then he collapsed over me.

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his naked chest expand against mine as we caught our breath. I held onto him, clung to him and this moment, this experience of having him and giving myself to him. He was mine. He’d always been mine since the day we met and maybe even before that.

The sun was going to rise on a new day and take him away from me, but for those delirious moments and the handful of hours that came after, I had him, and it was perfect.

Chapter Twenty-Three

As the morning light streamed in from the window, I woke up with Miller wrapped around me. My body ached in the best way. I held onto the feeling, relished it. He’d been inside me, and I could still feel him there. My first.

My only.

I shut my eyes and snuggled closer to him, my back to his chest. His arm around me and his breath, deep and even in sleep, against my neck. I started to drift off again when my phone vibrated with a call amongst the pile of our discarded clothes.

Sleepily, I peered down to see Evelyn’s name. I started to ignore it, but then, why would she call me? To gloat? Or was it an emergency?

I stretched out of Miller’s embrace and grabbed the phone. I curled to the edge of the bed and kept my voice low.

“Hey, Evelyn, what is it?”