Ugly Love Page 30
Author: Colleen Hoover

Two of his fingers slide into me, and I suddenly find it a lot more difficult to continue watching him. His thumb remains outside me, teasing every spot it can touch. I moan and let my hands fall to the bed above my head as my eyes close.

I pray he doesn’t stop. I don’t want him to stop.

His mouth meets mine, and he kisses me softly, his lips a stark contrast to the pressure of his hand. His mouth slowly begins to explore its way down my chin until it’s on my neck, the dip in my throat, trailing down my chest, covering my nipple, down my stomach, down, down, holy shit, down.

He settles himself between my legs, leaving his fingers inside me as his tongue meets my skin, separating me, causing my back to arch and my mind to let go.

I just let go.

I don’t care that I’m moaning so loudly I probably just woke up the entire floor.

I don’t care that I’m digging my heels into the mattress, trying to pull away from him because it’s too much.

I don’t care that his fingers leave me in order to grip my hips and hold me against his mouth, refusing to let me climb away from him, thank God.

I don’t care that I’m more than likely hurting him, pulling his hair, pushing him into me, doing whatever I can to reach a point so high I’m almost positive I’ve never been there before.

My legs begin to shake, and his fingers find their way back inside me, and I’m pretty sure I’m trying to smother myself with his pillow, because I don’t want to get him kicked out of this apartment building by screaming as loudly as I need to scream right now.

All of a sudden, I feel as if I’m up in the air, flying. I feel like I could look down and there would be a sunrise below me. I feel like I’m soaring.

I’m …

Oh, God.

I’m …

Jesus Christ.

I’m … this … him.

I’m falling.

I’m floating.

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow.

I never want to touch the ground again.

When I’ve completely melted to the bed, he hungrily works his mouth back up my body. He takes the pillow off my face and tosses it aside, then kisses me briefly.

“One more time,” he says. He’s off the bed and back on it in a matter of seconds, and then he’s inside me again, but I don’t even try to open my eyes this time. My arms are splayed out above my head, and his fingers are entwined with mine, and he’s pushing, thrusting, living inside me. Our cheeks are pressed together, and his forehead is against my pillow, and neither of us has the energy left to even make a sound this time.

He tilts his head until his lips meet my ear, and then he slows down to a gentle rhythm, pushing into me, then pulling completely out. He holds himself still, then pushes into me again, then pulls all the way out. He does this several more times, and all I can do is lie here and feel him.

“Tate,” he whispers, his lips close to my ear. He pulls out of me and stills himself again. “I can already say this with one hundred percent certainty.”

He thrusts back inside me.

“The.”

He pulls out, then repeats his movement again.

“Best.”

Again.

“Thing.”

Again.

“I’ve.”

Again.

“Ever.”

Again

“Felt.”

He holds himself still, breathing heavily against my ear, gripping my hands so hard they hurt; but he doesn’t make a single sound while he releases for the second time.

We don’t move.

We don’t move for a long time.

I can’t wipe the exhausted smile off my face. I’m pretty sure it’s there permanently now.

Miles pulls back and looks down on me. He smiles when he sees my face, and looking at him brings it to my attention that he never once made eye contact either time he was inside me. It makes me wonder if this was intentional or if it was just a coincidence.

“Comments?” he asks teasingly. “Suggestions?”

I laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just … I can’t … words …” I shake my head, letting him know I still need a little time before I can speak.

“Speechless,” he says. “Even better.”

He kisses me on the cheek, then stands up and walks to his bathroom. I close my eyes and wonder how in the hell this whole thing between us will ever end well.

It can’t.

I can already tell because I never want to do this with anyone else ever again.

Only Miles.

He walks back into the bedroom and bends down to pick up his boxer shorts. He picks up my underwear and jeans in the process and lays them on the bed beside me.

I’m guessing that’s his hint that he wants me to get dressed?

I sit up and watch as he picks up my bra and shirt and hands them to me. Every time his eyes meet mine, he smiles, but I’m finding it hard to smile back.

Once I’m dressed, he pulls me up and kisses me, then wraps his arms around me. “I changed my mind,” he says. “After this, I’m pretty sure the next nine days are going to be pure torture.”

I bite my smile, but he doesn’t notice, because I’m still wrapped in his arms. “Yep.”

He kisses me on the forehead. “Can you lock the door on your way out?”

I swallow my disappointment and somehow find the strength to smile at him when he releases me. “Sure.” I walk toward his bedroom door and hear him fall onto his bed.

I leave, not knowing what to feel. He didn’t promise me anything more than what just happened between us. We did what I willingly agreed to, which was have sex.

I just wasn’t expecting this overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. Not because of the way he dismissed me immediately after we had sex but rather for the way that dismissal made me feel. I thought I would want this to be strictly sex between us just as much as he does, but based on the beating my heart took in the last two minutes, I’m not so sure I’m capable of anything simple with him.

There’s a small voice in the back of my head, warning me to pull away from this situation before things become too complicated with him. Unfortunately, there’s a much louder voice urging me to just go for it—telling me I deserve a little fun in my life with all the work I’ve got going on.