Unveiled
Page 45

‘Only the best,’ Miller speaks clearly, never letting his focus waiver.
I blink slowly on a quiet hitch of breath, my shaky hands taking my glass back to my lips. I’ve been in some painful situations of late, and this is right up there with the best of them.
‘Nothing but the best for the Special One, yes?’ Carl smiles cunningly to himself as he pours a few fingers.
I cough over my wine, slamming the glass down before I drop it. He’s playing a dangerous game and he knows it. Miller’s chest heaving, buzzing, burning against my back tells me he could explode at any moment.
Carl passes the glass over and holds it in mid-air, rather than placing it on the bar for Miller to take, then wiggles it slightly . . . teasingly. I wince on a little jump when Miller’s hand flies out and viciously swipes it from his clasp, making the mean beast grin evilly. He’s getting a sick thrill from poking Miller and it’s beginning to get under my skin. Miller drains the alcohol in one smooth gulp before he smashes the glass down and licks his lips slowly, a slight curl developing at the side of his mouth. His eyes remain locked on Carl the whole time. The animosity batting between these two men is making me dizzy.
‘Mr Anderson wants you in his office. He’ll join you shortly.’
My neck is taken before Carl’s words fully sink in, and I’m on my feet and being led away from the bar before I can finish the rest of my much-needed wine. The anger pouring from Miller is potent. I’m nervous enough just from being here. All these bad feelings aren’t assisting. The pounding of Miller’s expensive shoes on the polished floor is ricocheting around my head, the walls closing in around me as the corridor swallows us up.
And then I see the door – the one I staggered towards the last time I saw it. The intricate door handle seems to swell before my eyes, enticing me in, showing me the way, and the wall lights seem to dull the farther we progress. The light buzzing of the posh club is fading into a muffled fuzz of quiet sound behind me, my poor mind being hijacked by relentless, painful memories.
My eyes are set on the handle, and I see Miller’s hand extend in slow motion and take hold, pushing it down and opening the door. He shoves me through quite firmly. I never thought I’d see this room again, but before I have time to absorb it, I hear the sound of the door close and I’m being whirled around and taken with conviction. I gasp, caught off guard, and stagger back in shock. Miller’s kiss is hungry and urgent, but I accept it, grateful for being spared the chance to take in my surroundings.
Our mouths are clashing repeatedly as we consume each other. Then he’s at my neck, my cheek, my shoulder, and returning to my mouth. ‘I want you here,’ he growls, beginning to step forward, encouraging me to move back until I feel hard wood at the back of my legs. ‘I want to fuck you right here, make you scream in ecstasy and come all over my aching cock.’ He lifts me and places me on the desk behind us, my dress pushed to my waist as he continues to attack my mouth. I know what he’s doing. And I couldn’t care less. This is the refuelling of strength I need.
‘Do it,’ I gasp, reaching up and pulling at his hair. Miller growls into my mouth as he unbuckles his belt and rips his trousers open before returning his hands to me and yanking my knickers aside. Our kiss is broken and my eyes drop to his groin. His cock is twitching eagerly, begging for me to come to it.
‘Move forward,’ he instructs hoarsely, sliding his spare hand to my bum and tugging impatiently as he stares down at himself slowly stroking his arousal. ‘Come to me, sweet girl.’
I shift a little, placing my palms flat on the desk behind me, being sure to never let my eyes stray from his perfect face – being sure not to allow myself a reminder of where we are. The moist head of his cock skims my centre, making me hiss and tense. The strength required to keep my eyes open nearly finishes me. He’s rolling the tip of his erection in painful circles, around and around on my flesh, still using those familiar teasing tactics, despite his earlier urgency.
‘Miller!’ My hands ball behind me, my teeth gritting.
‘Do you want me inside you, Olivia?’ He flicks his eyes from his groin to my flushed face, teasing my opening. ‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’ I circle my legs around his waist and use them as leverage, yanking him towards me. ‘Yes!’ I choke, the instant, deep penetration robbing me of breath.
‘Oh fuck! Livy!’ He withdraws slowly, watching himself emerge from my passage, his jaw pulsing. Then he looks up at me as he holds still and his blue eyes visibly darken, his grip on my thighs flexing . . . preparing. I wait for it, holding his purposeful gaze as it comes closer to me until his suit-covered torso is leaning over me and our noses are nearly touching. Yet he remains poised at my entrance, only the very tip of him submerged. I don’t move. I remain still and patient under his close studying of me, panting in his face, so desperate for movement, but just as desperate to let Miller lead the way, knowing it’s exactly what he needs.
Now.
Here.
Me.
Our eyes are stuck. Nothing will pull them apart. And when he slowly closes the small remaining gap between us and kisses me tenderly, I still don’t lose his blues. I keep my eyes wide open and so does he. His kiss is brief but loving. It’s worshipful. ‘I love you,’ he whispers, returning upright, still never allowing his gaze to wander.
I smile, keeping myself braced on one arm and using the other to reach forward. I skim his bristly cheek with my fingertip as he continues to regard me closely.
‘Put your hand back on the desk.’ His instruction is soft but firm, and I fulfil it without delay. I know full well what his intention is. I can see it past the softness of his eyes. Desperate hunger.
He takes a deep breath, making his chest expand beneath the material of his suit.
I take in air, too, holding it, preparing, silently willing him on.
Beautiful, lush lips straighten and his head shakes slowly in wonder. ‘I love you so, so much.’
Then he pounds into me on a guttural bark.
I scream, my lungs bursting and allowing every scrap of air I’ve contained to escape. ‘Miller!’
He freezes against me, holding us close, filling me to the maximum. Just that one powerful pound of his body into mine has us both gasping for breath. There’s so much more to come, so I gather the depleted air and take the few seconds he’s giving me to prepare for his attack as he twitches and jerks within me.
It happens faster than I anticipated. I get a few seconds of painful torture as he pulls out of me slowly before he totally lets loose. He’s unforgiving. Our bodies smash together over and over, creating the most wonderful sounds and sensations – our shouts of mind-bending pleasure saturating the large office, the feel of us both uniting sending me to that place beyond pleasure. My mind spaces out and my focus remains solely on accepting his brutality. I’m sure there will be bruises when we’re through, and I don’t even care.
I want it harder. Faster. I’m craving more. More Miller. I bunch his suit jacket in my fists and hang on for dear life. Then I push my mouth to his and tackle his tongue. He needs to know I’m OK. He wants to fuck me but worship me. He wants the things that make us us. Touching. Tasting. Loving.
‘Harder,’ I shout into his mouth, just so he knows I’m fine with this. I’m loving it. Everything about it – the strength of him, his merciless taking of me, his claiming of me, where we are . . .