Unveiled

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Unveiled Page 12

by Jodi Ellen Malpas


  ‘I’m watching my cock lose itself inside of you, sweet girl.’

  Everything aligns, sending me to that faraway place of utter bliss. We establish a steady tempo after a few more drives; our bodies are again in tune and gliding effortlessly together. He’s persistently groaning and mumbling incoherent, pleasure-filled words while sustaining his meticulous pace. I’m in awe of his control, yet mindful it’s something he struggles with. I lift my head and look over my shoulder, finding every mesmerising trait that I love: parted, moist lips; a tight, shadowed jaw; and when he rips his rapt attention away from his arousal slipping in and out of me, the package is complete and I’m staring into gleaming, sharp blues eyes.

  ‘Do you always struggle?’ I ask my question on a wisp of air as he thrusts smoothly forward.

  He shakes his head lazily, knowing what I’m referring to, and grinds deeply into me. ‘Not with you.’

  The strength I need to keep my head turned to look at him vanishes and I return forward, letting a knee rest on the step when my legs begin to wobble. His plunges are constant. And the pleasure is endless. My arms bend and my forehead meets the step. Then I feel the warmth of his chest blanket my back, forcing my body flush to the stairs. We remain locked together until Miller is lying the length of me and he continues wreaking havoc on my senses, his lips now in perfect position to dance lightly across the top of my back.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asks, just as my arm flies out and my hand wraps around one of the balustrades on the stairs.

  ‘Yes.’

  His rhythm increases yet remains controlled, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a switch flicks and my orgasm is suddenly charging forward. There’s no holding it back, especially when Miller’s teeth clamp down on my shoulder and he jolts forward unexpectedly.

  ‘Miller!’ My body temperature is increasing by the second, my skin starting to burn.

  ‘That’s it, Livy.’ Forward he snaps again, flinging me into his realm of indescribable pleasure. ‘Scream my name, gorgeous girl.’

  ‘Miller!’

  ‘Fuck, that sounds good.’ He hits me with another hard but controlled advance of his hips. ‘Again!’

  Everything around me blurs – vision, hearing. ‘Miller!’ I reach the pinnacle and burst in a hazy fog of stars, my focus set solely on riding out the delicious waves of pleasure ruling me. ‘Oh God!’ I pant. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God!’

  ‘I concur,’ he gasps, lazily grinding into me. ‘I fucking concur.’

  I’m reduced to a useless mass of twitching body parts, trapped beneath him, relishing in the continuous throbbing of his cock held deep inside of me as he finds his own climax. My knuckles are numb and white from my grip of the balustrade, I’m heaving and wheezing, and I’m drenched. I’m perfect.

  ‘Olivia Taylor, I think I’m addicted to you.’ His teeth graze my shoulder, dropping delicate kisses between light bites, and he grabs and tugs my hair, forcing my head up. ‘Let me taste you.’ I let him take everything from me as we remain stretched out on the stairs, the roughness of the carpet on my damp skin only mildly registering in my blissed-out mind. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and applies a little pressure with his teeth before pecking his way to my cheek.

  My worn-out muscles protest, trying defiantly to cling to him when he carefully slides out of me. I’m helped to turn around and positioned on a step, Miller kneeling in front of me. The concentration on his flawless face holds my attention while he spends a few silent moments arranging my hair over my shoulders. He doesn’t pass up the opportunity to twiddle a few strands. His eyes catch mine. ‘Are you real, sweet girl?’

  I reach forward on a smile and pinch his nipple, but he doesn’t wince or yelp. He returns my smile and leans in to kiss my forehead affectionately. ‘Come on. Let’s go be vegetables.’ He pulls me to my feet and guides me back down the stairs by my nape.

  ‘Have you ever watched television?’ I ask as Miller makes himself comfortable on the sofa, ready to veg. I can’t imagine Miller watching television, just like I can’t imagine him doing most normal things. He reclines and gestures for me to join him, so I lie on his chest, face tucked neatly under his chin, my body falling between his thighs when he spreads them.

  ‘Would you like to watch television?’ he asks, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth.

  I ignore that he hasn’t answered my question and reach for the remote control with my spare hand. The screen jumps to life, and I immediately smile when I’m confronted with Del and Rodney Trotter. ‘You must have watched Only Fools and Horses.’ It’s a national treasure!

  ‘Can’t say I have.’

  ‘Really?’ I blurt, swinging my astonished face up to his. ‘Just watch it. You’ll never look back.’

  ‘As you wish,’ he agrees quietly, beginning to knead lovely firm circles into my nape. ‘Anything you wish.’

  I’m only watching the television, not hearing any of the banter, as my mind wanders to a place where Miller’s words were true. Anything I wish. I compile a mental list of things I’d wish for, smiling when I feel the vibrations of a suppressed laugh beneath me. My part-time, refined gentleman is amused by the antics playing out on the screen before us, and the normalcy of that fills me with contentment, no matter how trivial it is.

  And then the moment is shattered by the sound of Miller’s phone ringing in the distance.

  A few easy movements has me minus one Miller beneath me and immediately resentful of his phone. ‘Excuse me,’ he mutters as he carries his naked body from the room. I watch as he disappears, smiling at the vision of his butt cheeks tensing and swelling with his long strides, then curl onto my side and retrieve the woollen throw from the floor.

  ‘I have her,’ he virtually growls, walking back into the room. I roll my eyes. There’s only one other man who would be asking where I am, and I have no desire to face him and his displeasure over my AWOL performance today. I wish my fraudulent gentleman wouldn’t make me sound like a possession all of the time, or, as the case might be now, a felon. I look to the end of the couch when he rests his arse on the edge, the contentment of a few moments ago vanished. ‘I was busy,’ he hisses, then follows it up with a flick of his eyes to mine. ‘Is that all?’

  My resentment multiplies, and it’s now held solely for William Anderson. It seems to have become his life goal to make my life as difficult and as miserable as possible. I’d love to snatch the phone from Miller’s angry grasp and spit a few choice words down the line.

  ‘Well she’s with me, she’s safe, and I’m done explaining, Anderson. We’ll reconvene tomorrow. You know where to find me.’ He tosses his phone down, all bristly and worked up.

  ‘Who was that?’ I ask, smiling when Miller gapes at me.

  ‘Really, Olivia?’

  ‘Oh, lighten up,’ I breathe, swinging my legs off the sofa. ‘I’m ready for bed. Coming?’

  ‘I might tie you down.’

  I recoil a little, frantically batting away the rapid influx of images that are dancing at the front of my mind, reminding me. Belts.

  Miller visibly winces when he catches the unmistakable horror on my face. ‘So you don’t knee me in the balls,’ he rushes to clarify. ‘Because you’re a terrible fidget in bed.’ An awkward hand sweeps through his waves as he stands.

  Humour chases away the flashbacks. I know I’m an awful fidget in my sleep. My bedcovers come morning are proof. ‘Have I caught you in the crown jewels?’

  He frowns. ‘The what?’

  ‘Crown jewels.’ I smile. ‘Balls.’

  His hand comes towards me, but I keep my eyes on a face full of exasperation, relishing the fact that he’s trying his utmost not to fuel my sass. ‘Many times. Elbows in my ribs, knees in my balls, but they’re a small price to pay for having you in my arms.’

  I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. ‘I’m sorry.’ I’m not sorry at all. I’d give anything to be a fly on the wall so I could watch my night-time shenanigans and Miller fighting to cope with them
.

  ‘I’ve already forgiven you, and I’ll forgive you again tomorrow morning.’

  I chuckle quietly but halt in the blink of an eye when the sound of a harsh knock at the door cuts into our light repartee. ‘Who’s that?’ I ask, my eyes swinging to the window. My sass receives the proverbial equivalent of a douse of petrol to a spark. If William’s made a special trip to express his displeasure personally, then my sass might burst into uncontrollable flames.

  Miller’s gone in a flash, taking the woollen throw with him, and I’m left butt-naked and alone in the lounge. I didn’t like the anxious vibes emanating from him before he left. Not at all. Creeping on my tiptoes to the door, I peek down the hallway, seeing he’s wrapped the throw around his waist and secured it by tucking the edge in, but he’s still far from decent. So when he opens the door and steps out without a word or concern for his semi-naked body, my mind goes into overdrive. And then I catch a glimpse of shiny ebony locks before the door clicks shut.

  My sass explodes into angry flames. ‘The cheeky bitch!’ I gasp to no one in particular, going in pursuit of Miller but pulling to a sharp halt when I allow the fact that I’m naked to worm past the anger. ‘Shit!’ I turn and sprint into the lounge, locate my clothes, and yank them on. I fly towards the source of my anger at a dangerous rate and wrench the door open, coming face-to-face with Miller’s naked back, but I’m far too consumed by fury to appreciate it. I push him aside and let my angry eyes punch holes into Cassie’s perfect frame, ready to hurl a torrent of verbal abuse her way.

  Except she’s not perfect today, and the shock of her pitiful state halts me dead in my tracks. She’s pasty, almost grey in complexion, and the designer clothes she usually wears are nowhere to be seen. She has on black sweatpants and a dull grey roll-neck jumper. Hollow eyes cast away from Miller and fall onto me. Despite her personal crisis, it’s clear she still has nothing but contempt where I’m concerned.

  ‘Good to see you, Olivia.’ There’s not a scrap of sincerity in her tone.

  Right on cue, Miller’s palm finds my neck and begins a vain attempt to rub my irritation away. I shrug him off and square my shoulders. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Livy, go inside.’ His grip is back on my neck and trying to turn me. He can forget it.

  ‘I asked her a question.’

  ‘And it’s usually polite to answer, right?’ Cassie retorts, full of smugness.

  A red mist starts to descend. He doesn’t only use that term with me? I’ve never thought about it, but now, having it thrown in my face by this lunatic bitch, it’s all I can focus on. He sounds like an arrogant prick when he says it, yet the feeling of betrayal is there. And it’s unwarranted and silly. All I can see in my mind is Cassie draped over Miller all those times, and then quickly I have a flashback of Miller’s office and her lashing at him with sharp fingernails while she screamed, deranged.

  ‘Cassie,’ Miller warns, still attempting to direct me away from what could potentially be eruptions.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ she huffs on an over-the-top roll of her eyes.

  ‘Will you quit?’ I snap at Miller, shaking him off. ‘After what she did to you last time, when she attacked you, do you truly expect me to go inside?’

  ‘What about what he did to me?’ Cassie blurts. ‘The bruises have only just faded!’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t behave like an animal,’ I hiss in her face as I step forward, fully aware that she wasn’t the only one, and the other animal is beginning to bristle next to me.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Miller mutters, pulling me back to his side. ‘Cassie, I told you earlier we’ll deal with this tomorrow.’

  ‘I want to deal with it now.’

  ‘Deal with what?’ I ask, my irritation flaring. ‘And how the hell do you know where I live?’ I look up at Miller. ‘Did you tell her?’

  ‘No.’ He grits his teeth, his blue eyes now full of aggravation. ‘No one knows I’m here.’

  I throw my arm out in the general direction of Cassie. ‘She does!’

  ‘Olivia!’ Miller shouts, pulling me back into him. I hadn’t realised I was moving forward. Jesus, I feel like the devil has taken over my mind and body. I feel dangerous.

  ‘Why is she here?’ I shout. That’s it. I’ve lost it. The shit-fest of today, of the past few months, in fact, has finally caught up with me. It’s all going to spill out of me right now and Cassie is going to cop the lot.

  ‘I came to apologise,’ she says indignantly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We said tomorrow,’ Miller pipes up, pointing a finger in her face while he keeps a tight hold on me. ‘I told you earlier to wait until tomorrow. Why the hell can’t you just fucking listen for once?’

  ‘Are you sorry?’ I ask.

  Her scowling eyes sink into me, then turn to Miller. ‘Yes.’

  ‘For what?’ I press.

  ‘For the way I’ve treated you.’ She turns to me slowly. There’s still no trace of genuineness. She’s here because she doesn’t want to lose Miller. She hates that he’s leaving her behind, that he’s leaving their dark world to find his light.

  ‘He’s mine now.’ I pry Miller’s hand from my arm and step forward. ‘Body and soul, mine.’ I ignore the pang of trepidation that arises as a result of the mild doubt Cassie is blatantly trying to conceal. I’m Miller’s light, but in the same breath, I comprehend fully that he is a certain kind of darkness to me. But it’s irrelevant. There is no me or him; there is only us. ‘Do you understand?’ She stares at me, and Miller remains quiet in the background, allowing me to have my say.

  ‘I understand.’

  I hold her stare for an age, not willing to be the one who backs down. I don’t blink either. Eventually, it’s Cassie who drops her gaze, and with that silent submission, I turn on my bare feet and leave them on the doorstep behind me.

  I’ve nearly made it to the top of the stairs when I hear the front door close. ‘Olivia.’ His placid call of my name tears at my heartstrings and I turn, keeping a steadying grip on the banister. ‘She needs out, too. I’m not leaving her behind. We’ve been stuck in this world together; we’ll be leaving together.’

  ‘Does she want out?’

  ‘Yes,’ he affirms as he steps forward. ‘I can’t see you sad.’

  I shake my head. ‘Impossible.’

  ‘I’ve shut the door. That’s it. It’s just us in here now.’

  ‘But the world is still outside, Miller,’ I say quietly. ‘And we need to open that door and face it.’ I escape, leaving him downstairs in turmoil.

  He needs his thing as much as I do, and I hate myself for depriving us both of it.

  Chapter 11

  Miller didn’t deprive us of our thing. He joined me in bed within minutes and moved in close. I wanted to deny him, to hurt him for hurting me – even if he didn’t do it directly. But I didn’t move away from his delicious heat, my own need for solace outweighing the need to punish him.

  He remained wrapped around my whole body the entire night, limiting my ability to wriggle and fidget, so we woke in the exact same position come morning. We didn’t speak a word while we lay there as the sun rose. I knew he was awake because my hair was being twisted and his lips were pressing into my neck. Then his fingers drifted down my thigh and found me ready and willing for some worshipping. I was taken from behind, our bodies spooned, and there was still no murmur of words, just consistent laboured breathing. It was peaceful. It was calm. And we both came in unison on breathy gasps.

  I was hugged fiercely while Miller bit into my shoulder, jerking within me, then released and pushed to my back before he settled on me. He still didn’t speak and neither did I. My hair was swept from my face and our burning gazes held for an eternity. I think Miller said more through that intense look than he ever could have with words. Not even the elusive I love you would have told me what I saw in his eyes.

  I was captivated.

  I was under his potent spell.

  He was speaki
ng to me.

  After ghosting his lips delicately over mine for a few moments, he peeled himself away from me and went for a shower while I tangled myself in the sheets, thoughtful. His goodbye was a tender kiss in my hair and a drag of his thumb across my bottom lip. Then my phone was swiped from the bedside table and he played with it for a while before placing it in my hand and kissing each of my eyelids before he left. I didn’t question him, letting him leave before I glanced down to find my Internet open on YouTube and Jasmine Thompson on the screen. I pressed Play and listened carefully while she sang “Ain’t Nobody” to me. I lay there for a long time after she’d finished and the room fell back into silence. After finally convincing myself to get up, I showered and spent the morning cleaning the house, listening to the song on repeat.

  Then I went to see Nan. I didn’t protest when I found Ted outside. I didn’t complain when he shadowed me all day. I didn’t bite William’s head off when I found him leaving the hospital on my arrival. I didn’t retaliate when Gregory gave me another ticking off for implicating him in my crimes. And I didn’t ignore any of Miller’s text messages. But I did sag under the wave of disappointment when the consultant visited Nan and told her that she wasn’t being discharged until tomorrow – something to do with sending her home with the right medication. She, of course, kicked up a stink, but not wanting to bear the brunt of a Nan-style tongue-lashing, I kept quiet the whole time.

  Now I’m home, it’s past nine, I’m sitting at the table in the

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