Mile High Daddy: Chapter 5

My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. The moment the words leave my lips—I want you to make love to me—the room feels impossibly small, the air charged with tension so thick it’s almost suffocating.

But he doesn’t respond.

The silence stretches, and I can feel the heat rising to my face, burning my cheeks and ears. He just…stares at me, his gray eyes unreadable, his expression impossible to interpret.

What was I thinking?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I blurt, scrambling to find an exit from this moment. My voice is shaky, my words tumbling out too fast. “I mean, I don’t know what I meant, but…forget it, okay? Just—forget I said anything.”

I push myself off the couch, my legs unsteady as I make for the sanctuary of the bedroom. Maybe if I hide under the covers for the next fifty years, I’ll survive the humiliation.

But before I take two steps, his hand catches mine.

“Lila.”

His voice is low, almost a growl, and it freezes me in place. I glance back, but before I can say anything, he pulls me toward him with a strength that feels effortless.

The next thing I know, I’m in his lap, his hands firm on my waist, holding me there like I belong. My breath catches, my heart slamming against my ribs as I find myself face-to-face with him, so close I can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his pupils darken as they lock onto mine.

There’s a roughness to him, from the scar on his cheek to the faint shadow of stubble. Nothing about him is polished, but everything about him demands attention.

“You don’t get to walk away after saying something like that, kiska,” he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with something that sends a shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t—” My protest dies in my throat as his hand moves, brushing against my side, his thumb skimming the bare skin where my shirt has ridden up.

“You meant it,” he says, his gray eyes pinning me in place. “Didn’t you?”

I want to argue, want to deny it, but the words won’t come. Because the truth is, I did mean it. Every syllable.

“I…” My voice falters, and I feel the heat of his gaze everywhere, like it’s burning through me.

His hand moves again, this time sliding up my back, his fingers threading into my hair. “Say it again,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

My pulse is racing, my breaths uneven as his eyes search mine. I’ve never felt this exposed, this raw, and yet I can’t look away.

“Mikhail…” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“Say it, Lila,” he urges, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to send sparks shooting down my spine.

I swallow hard, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “I want you,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

His lips crash into mine, and for a moment, the world around us ceases to exist.

There’s no sound, no light, no thought—just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his hands, the way he consumes me like he’s been waiting for this moment as desperately as I have.

I gasp against his lips as his hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer. His other hand slides up my back. My fingers clutch his shoulders instinctively, feeling the hard, taut strength beneath his suit.

The kiss deepens, his tongue sweeping against mine, coaxing, claiming, leaving me breathless and trembling. I feel like I’m on the edge of something dangerous, something I’ll never be able to come back from—and I don’t care.

His lips leave mine, trailing hot, urgent kisses down my jaw and neck. My head tilts back, a soft sound escaping me as he finds the sensitive spot just beneath my ear.

“Mikhail,” I whisper, his name slipping from my lips like a prayer.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and burning with intensity. His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my flushed skin.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low.

I swallow hard, my heart racing as his gaze holds me captive. “Then show me,” I whisper, the words tumbling out before I can think better of them.

The room feels impossibly warm, the soft hum of the city outside fading into nothing as his hands begin to roam. He moves slowly, deliberately, his hands skimming the curve of my waist, the slope of my back, before slipping under the hem of my shirt. His palms are warm against my skin, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through me in waves.

He pulls back, just enough to look at me, his gray eyes dark and heavy with want. “Lila,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, “if you want me to stop⁠—”

I shake my head, my breath hitching. “Don’t.”

His lips curve into a faint smirk, but there’s a softness to it, an intensity that makes my pulse race. His hands lift the hem of my shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls it over my head and lets it fall to the floor.

The cool air brushes against my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. He leans back, his eyes sweeping over me, and I feel the flush creeping up my neck, my chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice quiet but firm, like a statement of fact.

My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away.

His hands move to my jeans, his fingers deft as he unbuttons them, and we both stand so he can slide them down my legs, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.

“You’re trembling,” he says softly, his hands moving to my arms.

“I’m not nervous,” I whisper, though my voice shakes slightly.

He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good,” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine.

His lips trail down the side of my neck, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of me. He kisses along my collarbone, his hands sliding up my back to unhook my bra, his touch skilled and sure. The straps fall away, and his lips move lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against my skin. When I’m wearing nothing but my underwear, he sweeps me into his arms, carrying me into my bedroom and depositing me onto the bed.

He presses a kiss to my mouth before his hands move to my hips, holding me steady as his lips trail lower, over the curve of my breast, the dip of my stomach, his movements deliberate and intoxicating.

I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders as he kneels between my legs, his lips brushing against the edge of my underwear. He looks up, his gray eyes locking onto mine, and the intensity in his gaze steals the breath from my lungs.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice a low growl.

I can’t speak, can’t think.

His mouth trails over my stomach, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. My breath catches as he reaches the edge of my underwear, and his fingers curl around the waistband, sliding it down my legs in one smooth motion. The cool air against my bare skin heightens every sensation, and a rush of warmth floods my cheeks at the realization that I’m completely exposed to him.

Mikhail’s gaze lifts to mine for a moment, a silent question and a promise in his eyes. I nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the intense desire coursing through me. He presses his lips to the inside of my thigh, soft and slow, sending pulses of pleasure straight through my body.

His hands skim upward, cupping my breasts with firm, warm palms. A ragged moan escapes my lips as his thumbs graze over my nipples, the sensation making me arch my back.

His mouth travels higher, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, until finally he reaches that delicate spot where every nerve is alight with need.

I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair, when his lips brush over my clit. The pleasure is immediate, white-hot, and I can’t hold back the soft cry that escapes me. He makes a low, appreciative sound against my skin, his tongue flicking over that sensitive bundle of nerves with a tantalizing slowness that leaves me breathless.

My head tips back, my eyes fluttering shut as I give myself over to the rush of sensation. With each gentle, insistent stroke, his hands kneading my breasts and teasing my nipples, I feel every last bit of control slip through my fingers.

“Lila,” he murmurs, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. In that moment, I see the hunger in him, the need that mirrors my own. There’s something almost reverent in the way he touches me, as if he’s learning every inch of me by heart.

Mikhail’s tongue moves with deliberate precision, sliding over my clit in slow, torturous circles that make my entire body tense with pleasure. He alternates between soft flicks and firm pressure, keeping me on the edge, teasing me with the release I so desperately crave.

My fingers grip his hair, tugging gently, but he doesn’t relent—if anything, it only spurs him on. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wider to give him complete access. I can feel the heat of his breath against my core, every sensation magnified as his lips close around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking lightly before his tongue resumes its maddening dance.

A low moan escapes me, my head falling back as the pleasure builds, wave after relentless wave. His hands slide up, his thumbs brushing the tender skin near my hips while his mouth works its magic.

I’m completely at his mercy, every nerve alight, every inch of my body trembling with need. His tongue swipes over me again and again, each stroke deliberate and perfectly placed. My thighs begin to shake, and I feel my legs instinctively trying to close around him, but his grip tightens, keeping me open to him.

“Mikhail,” I gasp, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer.

He growls against me, the vibration sending a fresh surge of heat through my core. His tongue presses harder, swirling over my clit with a rhythm that pushes me closer and closer to the edge.

Abruptly, I’m faced with the absence of his touch as Mikhail rises to his feet, towering over me as he pulls off his shirt in one swift motion. My breath catches, my gaze fixed on him as he reaches for the button of his pants. When he slides them down, along with his briefs, my mouth falls open, my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve never seen a man like this before—never seen a man completely like this before.

My eyes widen as I take him in, the sheer size of his cock making my cheeks flush. He’s hard, thick, and commanding, and the sight sends a rush of heat through me.

Mikhail catches the expression on my face and smirks, that infuriating, cocky curve of his lips returning. “First time seeing one, kiska?”

I manage a nod, my voice completely gone.

His smirk softens into something warmer as he steps closer. “You can touch, Lila,” he says, his voice low and encouraging. “Explore.”

I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I reach out. My fingers graze the warm, smooth skin of him, and I feel the pulse of his arousal beneath my touch. It’s both intimidating and strangely fascinating, and I can’t help the curiosity that drives me to trace the length of him.

He inhales sharply, his hips jerking slightly when my fingers move lower, and a small gasp escapes my lips.

“Easy,” he murmurs, though his voice is tight, his control clearly slipping. “Just like that.”

I glance up at him, his gray eyes blazing as he watches me, and it gives me a strange sense of power. My movements grow bolder, my hand wrapping around his cock, sliding up and down experimentally.

A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, and his head tips back for a moment as I continue. But then, just as I’m starting to gain confidence, his hand closes over mine, stopping me.

“That’s enough,” he hisses, his voice strained.

I blink up at him, my lips parting in surprise, but before I can say anything, he’s lifting me effortlessly, laying me back on the bed. His hands are on either side of me as he looms over me.

“You’re going to drive me insane, kiska,” he says, his voice rough and raw.

My heart races as he leans down, his lips capturing mine again, erasing every thought from my mind. Then his lips leave mine, trailing hot kisses down my jaw, my neck, and lower. My skin tingles everywhere he touches, every nerve alive and burning. He takes his time, his hands firm on my waist as he kisses along my collarbone and then lower, until his lips find my breast.

I gasp as his mouth closes around me, his tongue flicking over my nipple before sucking gently. My back arches instinctively, pressing me closer to him as his other hand cups my other breast, his thumb teasing the sensitive peak.

“Oh,” I breathe, the sound escaping me before I can stop it.

He hums against my skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat coursing through me. His mouth moves back and forth between my breasts, licking and sucking in a way that feels both reverent and possessive.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin.

My cheeks flush, and I can barely think, let alone respond.

He moves lower, his lips brushing over my stomach, but then he’s back, his body pressing against mine as his hand slides down to part my thighs. I feel him, hard and ready, pressing against me, and my breath catches.

“Lila,” he says softly, his lips hovering just above mine. “I’ll go slow. If you want me to stop⁠—”

“I don’t,” I whisper, cutting him off. “I want this. I want you.”

His eyes darken, and he leans down to kiss me again.

His hand moves to guide himself, and I feel the first press of him, warm and firm, as he begins to enter me.

I tense instinctively, the sensation unfamiliar and overwhelming, but his other hand slides up to cup my cheek, grounding me.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you, kiska.”

I take a shaky breath, my hands clutching his shoulders as he slowly pushes forward, inch by inch.

“You’re doing so well,” he says, his voice tight, like he’s holding himself back. “So perfect.”

The words make me melt, and I force myself to relax, to focus on the way he feels, the way his hands hold me like I’m something precious.

He moves deeper, his pace unhurried, giving me time to adjust.

“Mikhail,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“I’m here,” he replies, his lips brushing mine. “I’m right here.”

When he’s fully seated inside me, he stills, giving me a moment to breathe, to take it all in.

Then he kisses me deeply, his mouth stealing my breath as he starts to move. Slowly, deliberately, he pulls back, his cock sliding almost all the way out before he pushes back in, filling me completely.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down my spine.

My fingers dig into his back as he continues, each stroke deliberate and measured, as if he’s savoring every second. His cock fills me perfectly, stretching me in ways that make heat pool low in my belly, building with every thrust.

He pulls back slightly, his hands sliding up to cradle my face, his gray eyes locking onto mine. “I’ve got you, kiska,” he says, his voice steady but thick with restraint. “You’re mine.”

The words send a shock wave through me, my body responding to him instinctively.

A soft moan escapes my lips, and he leans down, his mouth finding my neck, kissing and sucking as his pace picks up. The sound of our bodies moving together fills the room.

“God, Mikhail,” I whisper, the words slipping out as the sensations take over.

He growls softly, his hips driving into me a little harder, and I gasp, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. The friction, the fullness, the way his cock strokes that perfect spot inside me—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine as his thrusts grow deeper, more purposeful.

My head tips back, my body completely surrendering to him as waves of pleasure ripple through me.

“Let go, Lila,” he says, his voice rough.

And I do.

With a cry, I shatter beneath him, my body tightening around his cock as the pleasure washes over me in waves. He thrusts into me a few more times, and then I feel him reach his peak as well, stilling inside me as he gasps through his release.

For a moment, everything is still, the only sound our ragged breathing as we come down from the high together. His forehead presses against mine, his gray eyes soft as he looks at me.

I can’t speak, my body still trembling, my mind struggling to process everything that just happened. But as I lie there, wrapped in his arms, I know one thing for certain—nothing will ever be the same.