One Night: Unveiled

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  ‘Arrangements have been made.’ He means for his supposed date.

  I nod, my fingers now rotating my ring nervously. ‘When?’

  ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Tonight!’ I blurt, shocked. That soon?

  ‘There’s an event at the Temple. I’m required to accompany her.’

  ‘Right.’ I gulp, then nod decisively. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Six.’

  ‘What time . . .’ I pull up and take a deep breath. ‘What time is your date?’ The words make me want to vomit.

  ‘Eight,’ he answers tightly, keeping cool blues on my fake brave face.

  ‘So we have two hours to get you ready.’

  He frowns. ‘We?’

  ‘Yes. I’m going to help you.’ I’m going to bathe him, shave him, dress him, and kiss him goodbye, like a woman would who’s seeing her boyfriend off for work. Just a day in the office. That’s all.

  ‘Olivia, I—’

  ‘Don’t try to stop me, Miller,’ I warn, approaching him and taking his hand. He wants me to be strong. ‘We do this my way.’ I pull him over to the docking station and scroll through the tracks, looking for something a little upbeat. ‘Perfect,’ I declare, pressing play. Rihanna’s “Diamonds” joins us and I turn on a coy smile, delighted when I find a lovely smile gracing Miller’s face, too.

  ‘Perfect indeed.’

  I start to lead the way to his bedroom, but I’m tugged to a stop.

  ‘Wait.’

  Reluctantly, I halt when all I want to do is lose myself in the task of readying him.

  ‘Before we do things your way,’ he says, scooping me into his arms. ‘We do things my way.’ He’s moving before I can object, carrying me to his bedroom. I’m placed gently on the bed, like I’m the most delicate object in the universe, before his sits on the edge, one palm resting on the mattress so he can lean over me. ‘I need to have you once more.’

  I press my lips together and work hard to hold on to my emotions. He means once more before he leaves to murder someone. The pad of his finger lightly settles on my bottom lip as he gazes down at me, and then he slowly walks his fingers over my chin, down my throat, and onto a breast. Every nerve ending ignites under his soft touch, my nipples tingling, begging for some attention. I’m not denied it. He keeps his eyes on me as he slowly drops his mouth to one breast, giving it a little flick of his tongue, before grazing the very tip with his teeth. My back bows and I fight to keep my arms at my sides. My other breast is claimed by his hand, his palm cupping it possessively, squeezing and moulding as he begins swirling his tongue around my other nipple. I shift on the bed, my legs twitching. I give in to their insistence to move and bring my knees up until the soles of my feet find the mattress.

  He’s being super gentle, a total turnabout from our frantic fucking when I arrived. I sense there is more to it than just having me one more time. He wants to refuel on strength.

  ‘Nice?’ he asks, before filling his mouth with my breast, sucking gently.

  ‘Yes.’ I hum my pleasure, feeling the heaviness in my lower tummy intensifying. My arms take on a mind of their own and leave my side, my hands searching out the softness of his waves. He laps, licks, and sucks meticulously while my palms rest lightly on the back of his head, following his movements rather than pushing him farther into my chest.

  ‘You taste out of this world, Livy,’ he mumbles, kissing his way around my nipple and down to my midriff. I let my lids flutter closed in bliss and absorb every precious second of him feeling me, kissing me, worshipping me. His lips are everywhere on my torso, making me moan and writhe. The delicate bites of my flesh, his lips raining gentle kisses everywhere, it all provides the detachment I need from our imminent future.

  I suck in air when his hand drifts close to the apex of my thighs, my tender, sensitive, wet flesh begging him to venture there. ‘Hmmmm.’ My head falls to the side, my hands now firming up on the back of his head in a silent hint. I want his mouth there.

  He circles his thumb lightly over the top of my clit as he continues kissing my stomach. The friction makes me go rigid and hold my breath. ‘Always ready for me.’

  I sigh, letting him work me up with his tender caresses. The ache in my groin is bubbling as my breath hitches, and I try my hardest not to moan, just so I can hear Miller’s pleasure-filled murmurs.

  ‘I want you to come like this first.’ His fingers slip into me and every greedy muscle clings on. ‘Then I’m going to make serious love to you.’

  ‘You always make serious love to me,’ I mumble, transferring my hands to my own hair and gripping hard at my scalp. My hips start thrusting up, matching his tempo.

  ‘And it’s the most gratifying feeling.’ His fingers flex within me. I gulp. ‘Your eyes smoking out as your pleasure builds. The tiny little pants of air as you try to control it.’ He circles, putting some weight behind his touch, making me shift up the bed. ‘Nothing can come close to watching you shatter beneath me, Olivia.’

  I’m going to shatter now.

  ‘Are you nearly there?’ he asks softly, moving his face down and blowing a cool stream of air over my quivering centre. It propels me to the edge as I tighten my grip of my hair and clamp onto his fingers as he thrusts and slowly circles.

  ‘Ooooh,’ I breathe, my head beginning to slowly shake from side to side. ‘Miller, I need to come.’ All of my blood rushes to my head as I struggle to regulate my breathing.

  I cry out when his mouth encases my clitoris, his fingers still pushing into me gently. I’m beginning to shake uncontrollably. ‘Miller!’

  He withdraws his fingers and moves fast, lying between my legs and placing his hands on my inner thighs to push them wide apart. I go rigid, probably hampering him, but my climax is taking hold. The wet heat of his mouth suckling at me pushes me gently over the edge as I expel a long controlled rush of breath. I liquefy on the bed. I’m pulsing under his tongue, long and steady, drinking in air and circling my hips into his mouth. ‘I love it when you cry my name in desperation.’ He laps his tongue around my soaking core, gently easing me down from my subtle release.

  ‘I love it when you make me that desperate.’ I spasm when his lips scatter gentle pecks all over my swollen centre, working his way back up my body until he’s at eye level with me. Gazing into his burning eyes, he swivels his hips and plunges deeply, catching me a little off guard. His brow is shimmering with sweat, the gorgeous lock of hair skimming his damp skin. ‘You’re so warm.’ He pushes forward some more, his eyes flickering. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

  I press my lips to his and he responds on a long, low moan, circling my tongue slowly with his. ‘Not as good as you,’ I mumble against his lips, his long stubble grazing my face.

  He breaks our kiss and circles my nose with his. ‘We’ll agree to disagree.’ His hips swing into action, pulling out slowly. ‘Olivia,’ he whispers my name, and it only serves to increase my heart rate and transform the heat in my veins to flames. ‘Olivia Taylor, my most precious possession.’ He pushes forward soft and slow and with the utmost control.

  My back bows, my hands taking a hold of his shoulders, feeling the flexing muscles as he withdraws again.

  ‘I love taking my time with you.’

  I close my eyes on a long moan and let him do exactly that.

  ‘Don’t deprive me of your eyes, sweet girl. I need to see them. Show me.’

  I can’t refuse him. I know he partly survives on the comfort and strength they offer him. Now he really needs that comfort and strength, so I reveal my sapphires to his piercing blues. He’s braced on his forearms, watching me carefully as he delivers lazy drives into me. My hips begin to move with him, turning those drives into grinding rotations. The friction is divine and constant, our groins locked together, circling around and around. I begin to pant. ‘Please.’

  ‘What do you want?’ he asks calmly. I don’t know how he does it. It’s infuriating. I can feel my body losing control as my pleasure builds.


  ‘I need to come again,’ I admit, loving that his cock actually swells in response to my confession. ‘I want you to make me scream your name.’

  His eyes sparkle wildly, his erection answering again with another expansion. My hips are on autopilot now, which is good because all I can concentrate on is the delicious fire crackling between my thighs.

  ‘No screaming today,’ he says, dropping his mouth to mine. ‘Today you’ll moan into my mouth and I’m going to swallow every second of it.’ He notches up a gear with his rotating hips, flinging me back to the brink. I’m going at his mouth too roughly, but I make the most of it because I know what’s coming.

  ‘Savour me, Livy,’ he orders gently, instantly reining me in. My hands drift down his strong arms and feel their way across to his bum. I moan happily and stroke over the firmness for a short while, then grab on. He’s moaning now, too, our collective sounds clashing between our mouths as they duel gently. ‘Here it comes.’ His tongue speeds up, encouraging me to follow, which I do, my muscles hardening under him. I can feel all of the signs in him. He’s breathless, tense, and vibrating against me. ‘Oh shit, Olivia.’ He bites my lip, then resumes his passionate, hungry kiss. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yes!’ I yelp, working hard to capture the peak. It’s nearly there. It’s . . .

  ‘I’m going!’ he shouts into my mouth. ‘Come with me, Olivia!’

  ‘Miller!’

  ‘Fuck, yes!’ He circles deeply one last time, then withdraws and pushes forward slowly on a broken groan, hurling me skyward. My spine snaps into a violent arch as I crumble into helplessness beneath him, my eyes closing and my head falling to the side in an exhausted heap.

  Wet warmth coats my insides and Miller collapses onto me, panting erratically into my neck. In my post-climax haze, I’m vaguely aware of him softening within me.

  And there we drift off together, still connected and blanketed in each other.

  My legs are bent and my thighs parted. My arms are pinned above my head as I feel him shifting above me. I open my eyes sleepily after my brief snooze to find Miller gazing down at me with parted lips, his blues sparkling like diamonds. His arm moves above my head to join his other so that my face is fringed by two lean biceps, but he doesn’t pin me down; he just rests his arms over mine.

  I whimper when he lifts, letting his erection fall into position before slowly pushing himself into me on a quiet hitch of breath. I shift under him to meet his advance and sigh as he begins an unhurried pace, working himself in and out of me.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispers as his mouth falls down to mine. Once again, all woes are drowned out by his worshipping and my aching for him. I soak up the pleasure of him deep inside me and match his languid tongue strokes with my own. He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine as he continues his slow, silent drives. ‘You’ll be all I see the whole time.’ He circles his hips on a delicious deep grind.

  I moan.

  ‘Tell me you know that.’

  ‘I do,’ I breathe.

  He picks up his pace slightly, working in and out on smooth, delicious hits, his damp forehead rocking against mine as he puffs short, harsh breaths. He starts to shake over me. I’m there, too.

  ‘Let me taste you, Olivia.’

  I let him have me and kiss him to release, joining him as he tenses and stills above me on a constricted moan, his shakes increasing. The violent shudder that rides through my body has me crying into his mouth, and I pull my arms through his and hold him close to me as we continue kissing, soft and slow, lovingly, long past our float down.

  That was his goodbye.

  ‘Now we can do this your way,’ he says quietly against my neck, and takes another inhale of my hair, topping up on my scent.

  Having a silent stern word with myself, telling my disturbed mind repeatedly that I can do this, I shift beneath him, forcing him to lift. Our damp skin peels apart slowly and the loss of his softening length inside me rips away at my breaking heart. But I need to be strong. I can’t show any signs of hesitance or pain, which is tremendously difficult when I’m very hesitant and I’m in agony at the thought of what he’s being pushed to do. He looks down at me, and I can tell there’s doubt lingering on the edges of his mind, too, so I force a small smile and lift my lips to kiss him chastely. ‘Let’s take a shower.’

  ‘As you wish.’ He reluctantly detaches himself from me on a deep inhale and helps me to my feet, but prevents me from making my way to the bathroom. ‘One moment.’

  I stand silently while he makes a long, drawn-out affair of messing with my hair, arranging it just so over my shoulders, and frowning when a new shorter layer refuses to stay where he’s placed it. His beautiful face, all bunched in slight annoyance, brings a glimmer of a smile to my face. ‘It’ll grow back,’ I placate him.

  His eyes flick to mine and he surrenders the lock of hair. ‘I wish you’d never cut it, Olivia.’

  My heart sinks. ‘You don’t like it anymore?’

  He shakes his head, frustrated, and takes my neck to lead me into the bathroom. ‘I love it. I just hate remembering what drove you to cut it in the first place. I hate that you did that to yourself.’

  We arrive in the bathroom and he flicks the shower on before collecting towels and gesturing for me to enter the cubicle. I want to tell Miller how much I hate everything he’s done to himself, too, but at the risk of lowering the delicate mood further, I hold my tongue and accept his comment. This time together is precious and the memories we’re making now will help me through the night. I don’t want any disagreements to tarnish this. So I follow through on his silent order and step into the shower, immediately collecting the shower gel from the shelf and squeezing some into my palm.

  ‘I want to wash you,’ he says, taking the bottle from my hand.

  I don’t stand for it. I need this. ‘No,’ I retort softly, reclaiming it. ‘We do this my way.’ I rid myself of the bottle and rub my palms together, working up a lather. Then I spend an age scanning every fine piece of him, trying to figure out the best place to start. It’s all calling to me, each perfect bit of him willing me to place my hands there.

  ‘Earth to Olivia,’ he whispers, stepping forward, taking my wrists in his grip. ‘How about here?’ He places my hands on his shoulders delicately. ‘We’re not leaving this shower until you’ve felt every part of me.’

  I drop my eyes, searching deep in my soul for the lost strength I need to let him walk away from me once I’m done readying him. It’s slipping away fast with every word spoken and every touch exchanged.

  ‘Stay with me,’ he murmurs, resting his palms over mine. He begins guiding a gentle caress of my hands across his skin, and I watch his chest expand as my eyes climb the planes of his muscles until I’m at deep pools of blue pain. ‘Feel me, Olivia. Everywhere.’

  I bite back a sob, fighting back tears that are demanding to be freed from my welling eyes. But I find it. That strength I need to get me through this – to get us both through this – is found amid the desolation and I step forward, close to his body, and begin massaging my palms gently into his shoulders.

  ‘Good,’ he sighs, allowing his heavy eyes to close and his head to drop back a little. He’s exhausted. I know he is. Emotionally. Physically. Everything is being taken out of him. I find myself even closer when he rests his hands on my waist and tugs forward a little. ‘Better.’

  I concentrate on Miller and him alone, not allowing anything else to break down my barriers – no thoughts, no worries . . . nothing. My hands glide lazily everywhere, from his shoulders to his pecs, his stomach, his sharp V, down to his thighs, knees, shins, feet. Then I work my way slowly back up again before turning him to do his back. My face contorts on a wince when I’m confronted by his ravaged flesh. I work fast and gently, then turn the hideous sight away from me so he’s facing me again. The water raining down is the only sound. Miller is my only focus. Yet as I find myself at his neck, rubbing the water there to wash away the soap, I see his eyes still c
losed and I wonder if I am his only focus. I don’t want to consider that maybe he’s thinking about the night ahead, about how he’s going to see through his plan, how far he needs to go with the Russian woman, how he’s going to rid the world of Charlie. But I know that if he was thinking of me, he would be looking at me. And like he’s heard my thoughts, his blue eyes slowly appear and he blinks that wonderful lazy blink. I can’t quite disguise my sadness quickly enough.

  ‘I love you,’ he declares softly, out of nowhere. He can see. There’s no fooling him. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ Moving forward, he encourages my backward steps until my back meets the tiles and I’m swathed in wet, hot skin. ‘Tell me you understand.’

  ‘I do.’ My voice is low, and though I’m certain of it, I don’t sound it. ‘I do,’ I repeat, attempting to inject some sureness into my tone. I fail on every level.

  ‘She won’t get the opportunity to taste me.’

  I inwardly shiver, desperate not to let my mind venture there, and nod, reaching for the shampoo. I ignore the worried eyes that I know are currently studying me and set about washing his waves. I’m still slow and soft in my caring for him, but now there’s determination behind my tenderness in the form of a consistent mental pep talk. My mind is a whirlwind of silent encouraging words, and I’m going to make sure they continue to play in the background for the entire time he’s gone.

  Miller is like a statue, only moving when I prompt him with a nudge or a flick of my eyes to his. He can read me through my eyes. He responds to my every thought. He owns my body, mind, and soul. Nothing can change that.

  I shut the shower off and step out to collect a towel, drying Miller off and wrapping it around his waist before seeing to myself. I can see with perfect clarity how hard he’s finding it to refrain from seizing control and taking care of me.

  Opening the cupboard above the sink, I pick out a can of deodorant and hold it up to him. He smiles a little and lifts his arm, giving me access to spray him. Then I move onto his other before putting it neatly away. Next, his wardrobe. Claiming Miller’s hand, I pull him through the bedroom, still repeating my mental mantra of positive thoughts.