Page 106 of Tempting Miles
“¿Te gusta que te hable así?” he murmurs gently before sucking gently at my neck.
“Si.” It’s the only thing I can manage as my brain completely short-circuits.
Never in my thirty-five years of existence has a man whose first language wasn’t Spanish taken the time to learn how to say sexy things to me.
“Good.” He grins against my skin. “I’ll show you what else Ilearned later.”
I’m about to suggest we skip dinner altogether when the chef walks into the dining room carrying a tray.
“Good evening, Mr. MacAllister, Ms. Levine,” he greets as the smell of food makes my stomach growl. “Tonight I prepared coffee-and-bourbon braised short ribs served over mashed potatoes with a green salad featuring walnuts and pomegranate.”
He plates our food, leaves the serving dishes on the table, then quietly excuses himself.
“Happy Indulgence Day, sugar,” Miles says as he waits for me to take the first bite.
I cut into the short rib, and the meat practically melts in my mouth. The rich tanginess pairs perfectly with the sweetness from the pomegranate.
“This is superb,” I say, going in for a second bite.
“True.” Miles practically inhales half his plate. “I’m going to have to learn how to make these at home.” He dabs his mouth with a napkin, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. “I apologize for my bad manners, but I was hungry.”
I laugh softly. “Do you want more? I think the chef left plenty.” I gesture toward the extra food.
“Nope. I don’t want to eat so much that I end up in a food coma.” His gaze slowly drags down my body. “There’s something else I want to devour after this.”
I close my eyes, feeling the full force of his stare.
He tops off our glasses of wine, and by the time I’m almost done eating, this giant man suddenly folds himself under the table.
“Miles?” I ask, a nervous little laugh slipping out.
“Yes, sugar?”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for my dessert.”
The second his strong hands caress my ankles, I already know I’m in for one of the best orgasms of my life.
“Is this okay?” he asks softly against my calf.
I try to answer, but my fork and knife slip from my fingers and clatter loudly onto the table instead.
Miles chuckles low in his throat.
As his hands slowly glide higher up my legs, my chair gets pushed back slightly. Then his head emerges from under the table, his eyes wild with restrained lust.
“The moment I saw the slit on this dress,” he murmurs against my inner thigh, “I knew I’d find a way to use it to my advantage.”
Then he presses his nose against my core and inhales deeply.
“Puedo apostar todo lo que tengo a que estás completamente mojada,” he says as he gently spreads my thighs apart. His thumbs press against my core, pulling a helpless moan from me.
At this point, I’m not even sure whether I’m reacting more to what he’s doing or to the fact that he’s speaking to me like this.
I’ve heard him use a few words here and there with the twins, but nothing like this.
Instead of moving my panties aside, Miles slowly slides them down my legs and tosses them somewhere behind him. The moment he spreads my lips open for him, his tongue drags slowly across his upper lip.
