Promised

‘Sure.’ I lie back, and the soles of my feet slip along the bottom of the tub until they’re wedged under his arse. He raises his eyebrows, making me blush. ‘Sorry, it’s slippery.’

‘No need to apologise.’ He collects my feet from beneath him and lifts to settle them on his chest. ‘You have cute feet.’

‘Cute?’ I have to stop myself from laughing. I never know what words or tones are going to fall from Miller Hart’s lips, but they affect me in one way or another every time, whether it be amusement, irritation, lust, or confusion.

‘Yes, cute.’ He dips and kisses my little toe. ‘I have a request.’

His declaration makes it very easy to stop the threatening laughter from surfacing. Another request? ‘What is it?’ I ask nervously.

‘Don’t look so apprehensive, Livy.’

Easy for him to say. ‘I’m not apprehensive. I’m curious.’

‘So am I.’

I frown across the bath at him. ‘What are you curious about?’

‘How it will feel to be inside you without anything between us.’

‘Oh . . .’ I breathe.

He reaches into the water and locates my hand, pulling me to my knees and leading it to the solid rod resting on his abdomen. ‘You must be curious, too.’

I am now. ‘You’re speaking like this is long term,’ I say hesitantly, bracing myself for his reply.

‘I’ve already told you that I want more than our remaining four hours, which I believe have expired now.’ He positions my grasp around him and lays his hand over mine, then starts guiding me up and down slowly under the water. My whole being relaxes, peace settling over me in response to his words. The movement of his chest visibly changes, the rise and fall increasing dramatically. He feels like velvet, but my view of our combined movements is hampered by the gallons of water surrounding us. I can only see the swollen head of his penis, so I lift my eyes and let them indulge in the subtle parting of his incredible lips.

‘I am curious,’ I confess, shifting forward on my knees. ‘But I’m not on the pill.’

‘Are you prepared to rectify that so we can both feed our curiosity?’

I nod my agreement as I allow him to control the strokes of my hand over his erection. He feels sublime – smooth, firm and large. He looks sublime, too, and breathing some confidence into myself, I flex my hand until he releases on a frown and watches me climb up his body.

‘What are you doing, Livy?’ he asks warily, but he doesn’t stop me from finding my way until I’m sitting on his lap, his arousal resting perfectly beneath me. In fact, he helps me.

‘I want to feel you.’ I lower my face to his, the sensation of him pulsing under me injecting more confidence. I’m losing my mind, my body acting without instruction.

He shakes his head lightly and homes in on my lips, kissing me adoringly. I might be teasing and tormenting him, but he’s the one in control. ‘That can’t happen, Livy.’

‘Please,’ I breathe, finding his hair. ‘Let me.’

‘Oh, Jesus, you’re ruining me.’

I take his weak, breathless words as defeatism and reach down between our bodies while keeping up our kiss. ‘It is me who’s ruined.’ I bite his tongue gently. ‘You’ve ruined me.’ My hand finds what it’s looking for, and I lift to position him at my opening.

‘I haven’t ruined you, Livy.’ I feel his hand wrap around my wrist, halting my reckless intention. ‘I’ve awakened a desire in you that only I can satisfy.’ He pulls my hand away, his lips straight in warning. ‘And it seems one of us needs to keep our head before we find ourselves in a situation.’

I’m pent-up on lust, but his cautionary face soon drags me back to reality. ‘Your fault,’ I mumble, embarrassed and feeling unreasonably rejected.

‘So you keep telling me,’ he says, rolling his blue eyes. It’s a sign of exasperation, a rare show of emotion. In an attempt to restore my slighted state and distract Miller from scorning me further, I start to shift down, keen to taste him again. But I don’t get very far.

He halts me, looking almost nervous, and pulls me up, completely crowding me with his body and falling back against the bath, settling me on his chest. ‘Thing.’

Despite my confusion at his decline, I hum happily and embrace his iron hold, clinging onto him everywhere and relishing the sound of his breathing as the water around our bodies laps gently. ‘I have a request, too,’ I whisper, feeling brave and comfortable asking.

‘Hold your thought.’ He turns his head and kisses my wet cheek. ‘Let me have my thing.’

‘I can ask while you’re having your thing,’ I counter on a smile.

‘Probably, but I like to see you when we’re conversing.’

‘I think cuddling might be my thing now, too.’ I squeeze some more, causing our bodies to slip. The comfort and peace that engulfs me during these moments makes me want to superglue myself to him.

‘I hope you mean with me.’

‘Exclusively,’ I sigh. ‘Can I voice my request yet?’

I’m reluctantly released from his chest and pushed up on his lap. ‘Tell me what you want.’

‘Information.’ My bravery diminishes at the sight of his straight lips and tight jaw, but I find the courage to continue. ‘Your habits.’

‘My habits?’ He raises his eyebrows, almost in warning.

I push on carefully. ‘You’re very . . .’ I stop myself to choose my words wisely. ‘Exact.’