Promised

‘Your nan loved you.’

‘Nan wasn’t capable of anything when Granddad died. She spent every hour of every day crying and praying for answers. She couldn’t see me through her grief.’

Miller’s eyes clench shut but I go on, despite him clearly struggling.

‘I left and found William. He was taken by me.’ Miller’s teeth are gritting now. ‘It didn’t take him long to make the connection and he sent me away. But I went back. Now I had an idea of how it worked. I was even more determined to see if I could find out anything about my mum, but I never did. All I felt was shame when I let one of them have me.’

‘Livy, please.’ Miller’s cheeks puff and release a slow stream of air, an obvious attempt to calm himself.

‘William took me home, and I found Nan in a worse state than when I’d left. She was in such a dark place. I felt so guilty and I realised it was my job to take care of her now. We only had each other. I never returned to William and I’ve never given myself to anyone since. Nan’s never known where I went and what I did. She never can.’

My clouded vision sees wide blue eyes and a stoic face. It’s out there now. No going back.

He seems to shake himself back to life, squeezing my hands in his. ‘Promise me you won’t ever degrade yourself like that again. I beg you.’

I don’t hesitate. ‘I promise.’ It’s the easiest promise that I’ve ever made. That’s all he has to say? There’s no look of contempt or disgust. ‘I promise,’ I affirm. ‘I promise, I promise, I pro—’ I don’t get any further. He moves in fast, taking me down to my back, and completely drowns me in his mouth’s attention, kissing me until I’m literally seeing stars. He’s moaning into my neck, kissing his way over my cheek, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. He’s everywhere. ‘I promise,’ I moan. ‘I promise.’

He grapples with the shirt I’m wearing, pulling it open to access my body. ‘You’d better not,’ he warns seriously, trailing his lips down my neck and onto my chest. His mouth locks around my tingling nipple and sucks hard, and I’m arching my back and throwing my hands into action. They home in on his strong shoulders, my nails scraping at him, and then I feel his fingers between my thighs, separating me, and his head starts moving down. He sends me delirious with a firm, hot lick up my centre before he’s on his way up my body again and plunging into my mouth. ‘So ready,’ he mumbles.

‘Inside. I want you inside me.’ I’m demanding, desperate for him to scrub away the last hour of agonising confessions and judgments. ‘Please.’

He growls, firming up his kiss. ‘Condom.’

‘Get one.’

‘Shit!’ he barks, jumping up and pulling me to my feet. He stoops and throws me onto his shoulder, urgently pacing to the bedroom where he lowers me to the bed and immediately removes his boxers before finding a condom and making quick work of rolling it on.

I’m impatient as I watch him, willing him to hurry up before I lose my screwed-up mind. ‘Miller,’ I pant, reaching up to stroke down the centre of his stomach.

He pushes me to my back and falls to his fists, one on each side of my head. He’s breathless, his hair falling forward, his eyes hungry. ‘This is what it’s all about.’ He rolls his h*ps and drives into me on a suppressed gasp, holding himself deep while he tries to stabilise his uneven breathing. I cry out. ‘This is pleasure.’ He retreats and pushes forward on another burst of air, coaxing another shout of gratification from me. ‘This is feeling.’ Back he draws before thrusting forward again. ‘This is how it’ll always be.’ His pace is meticulous, smooth and perfectly precise. ‘This is us.’

‘I want it to be,’ I breathe, meeting his advances with constant swivels of my hips. His eyes are smiling, and then like a sun breaking through the grey clouds on an overcast, smoggy day in London, his mouth smiles, too – his perfectly straight, white teeth on full display, his eyes sparkling wildly. He accepts me. All of me.

‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up, not that you had a choice.’

‘I don’t want a choice.’

‘You know it makes perfect sense.’ He drops to his forearms and gets our faces nose to nose, delivering delicious deep grinds over and over. My hands are all over his back, my knees bent and spread, and his shirt a creased-up mess, pooling my body. ‘I have a fascinating habit,’ he says, scanning my face.

‘Me too.’

‘She’s the most beautiful thing.’

‘My habit is mystifying.’ I groan and lift my head to capture his lips. ‘He’s in disguise.’

‘Disguise?’ he asks around my mouth, meeting my demanding tongue with his own.

‘He’s disguised as a gentleman.’

A cough of surprise falls past his lips. ‘If I wasn’t enjoying myself so much right now, I’d challenge you for your cheek. I am a gentleman.’ He jerks forward and bites my lip. ‘Bollocks!’

‘A gentleman doesn’t swear!’ I shout, linking my legs around his waist and tightening them, pushing into his rock-hard arse.

‘Fuck!’

‘Oh God! Faster!’ My hands push into his neck, forcing his lips harder to mine.

‘Savoured,’ he argues weakly. ‘I’ll enjoy you slowly.’

He might be enjoying me slowly, but I’m losing my mind fast. His control is beyond comprehension. How does he do it? ‘You want to go faster,’ I goad him, yanking at his dishevelled mop.