Bad Liar

Chapter Thirty

He moves slowly towards me, never wavering our eye contact. He sensually begins to unbutton my skirt. My breath hitches in my throat as his lips make contact with my collarbone. He drags his tongue across my skin.

Once the skirt is unbuttoned, he discards it onto the tiled floor beneath us. His warm hands rest on my hips, his fingers lightly tracing the lace outline of my underwear. I gulp, my mouth suddenly feeling dry as my nervousness begins to seep in.

Ever-so-slowly, he pulls my shirt up. I suck in a breath as he yanks it over my head, his eyes lowering to my exposed skin. His fingers begin to trace patterns across my chest.

"I can feel your heart racing," he murmurs, pressing his hand more firmly into me. "It feels like it could leap out into my hand."

I nod at him, too breathless to speak.

"Are you nervous?" he murmurs, pulling my hand up to his mouth and leaving a soft trail of kisses down the inside my wrist.

"Yes," I whisper hoarsely.

"Really?" he asks, his warm tongue brushing my skin teasingly.

I nod, my lips parting once more.

In one fluid movement, he hoists me onto the counter. I hear my tooth brush and tooth paste crash into the sink, and the hand soap fall over. His hands run up my thighs and I can feel my body shaking with anticipation.

"Isobel Maye Collins," he whispers into my ear, his fingers toying with the edge of my underwear. "I love you."

I weakly fall against the mirror as he begins to tug the material down my legs. I feel too breathless to respond to his confession. His lips claim mine and I let him kiss me deeply as he fingers begin to move against me. My eyes flutter closed at the feel of him. My stomach begins to make a flip-flop motion.

Parting my legs and pulling me closer to the edge, he drops low, before burying his head in between them. A sharp gasp leaves my lips as his tongue snakes across me. I bite my lip, hard, to stop myself making a sound. I grip the edge of the bench, my legs tensing around his shoulders.

"Still taste as good as ever," I hear him murmur and my cheeks burn a fiery red at his dirty words.

The movement of his tongue twists faster and I whimper, almost begging him to stop, because I feel so uncomfortable but good at the same time.

"Miles," I breathe as my eyes screw shut.

A sensation, that only Miles has ever made me feel, begins to stir in my stomach.

His thumbs rub circles into my skin as he continues. I bring my hand to my mouth and bite down onto it as I let out a cry. I sag back against the mirror, my head banging into it, but I hardly feel it.

Standing, Miles wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. I feel like that only happened within seconds, whereas I've probably been sitting here for minutes. I don't know. Time muddles together when I'm with Miles.

"So, ready for that shower now?" he asks me, before leaning over and turning on the nozzle.

I can feel my legs quivering as I stay on the sink bench, trying to normalise my breathing. He casually grabs my tooth brush, it's easy to tell as I have written Isobel in white-out, to stop Alec using mine and saying he 'couldn't tell the difference' . Miles tears open the new packet mum bought and grabs one for himself.

He places our tooth brushes onto the ledge of the sink in the shower, before turning to me with a lazy smirk.

"Isobel?"