‘And I’m so happy that I am your habit,’ I murmur, finding it easy to utter those words amid my mind-numbing bliss.

‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’ His face falls into my neck and he begins a lazy pump of his hips, making all air leave my lungs on a satisfied rush of quiet breath.

I smile through my pleasure and I feel him smile against my neck as he kisses me delicately while maintaining his precise pace, keeping his palm spread across my throat.

‘You taste divine,’ he whispers hoarsely.

‘You feel divine.’

‘You’re tightening around me, sweet girl.’

‘I’m close.’ I can feel all of the present signs intensify – the tenseness, the pulsing, the heaviness. ‘Oh God!’

‘Shhhh, Livy,’ he chokes, his h*ps taking on a mind of their own, bucking briefly before he locks his teeth on my neck and takes some steadying breaths. He stops moving.

Sweat beads spring onto my forehead. The heat of his mouth on my flesh is spreading through my clammy body, burning deep into my very centre.

‘How close?’ he asks on a strangled gasp. ‘How close are you, Livy?’

‘Close!’

His h*ps seem to start vibrating, a clear sign of his fight to refrain from bucking wildly.

‘Shit!’ I cry when he advances quickly but carefully, my knuckles turning white from my despairing grip. Out he draws again before striking intently. My lungs drain of air and my surging heart rate escalates to dangerous levels. I feel faint. ‘Miller,’ I gulp, making my arms rigid against the wall. I’m buzzing, feeling out of control, the heights of pleasure sending my mind spiralling into meltdown. I don’t know what to do to cope with him. Nothing changes and I hope it never does. ‘Miller, please, please, please.’ I’m on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, but he’s holding me there, teasing me. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

‘Beg,’ he grunts, hitting me calmly with another burst forward of his hips. ‘Beg me for it.’

‘You’re doing it on purpose!’ I yell, thrusting back onto him in an attempt to catch the rush of pressure and let it explode, earning a bark from Miller and a shocked yelp from me. My face is yanked to his and I’m eaten alive, our kiss spurring on my imminent cl**ax.

‘Beg,’ he repeats against my lips. ‘Beg me to devote the rest of my life to you, Olivia. Make me see that you want us as much as I do.’

‘I do.’

‘Beg.’ He bites my lip and lets it drag through his teeth gently before his blue eyes are burning into me, searing my soul. ‘Don’t deny me.’

‘I beg you.’ My eyes hold his and absorb the need seeping from them. Need for me. It’s reassuring. We’re in desperate need of each other.

‘And I beg you.’ A delicious swivelling of his h*ps begins, reminding me of my previous explosive state. He pecks my lips and finds his rhythm again, plunging deep and retreating slowly, crippling me with his expert worshipping. ‘I beg you to love me for ever.’

My face falls into his neck and nuzzles. ‘You don’t need to beg me,’ I murmur. ‘There’s nothing more natural to me than loving you, Miller Hart.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Can you stop driving me crazy now?’ My cl**ax is still being held in limbo. It’s screaming for release.

‘God, yes.’ He drives into me firmly and holds himself deep, grinding his hips. I rocket on a cry and the built-up pressure gushes from my being, sending me dizzy and useless in his arms. ‘Fuck, f**k, f**k!’

‘Don’t drop me!’ My body is quivering, my head shaking from side to side.

‘Never.’

‘Oh . . .’ I breathe, the twinges showing no sign of receding as I relax into him. My world is a haze of distorted sounds and blurred images as I fight my way through the intensity of my orgasm. I can’t feel my limbs, only Miller biting lightly on my cheek and his erection pulsing within me. Vivid images are flashing through my mind, each one of Miller and me, some past, some very much present, and some of our future together. I’ve found my someone – a damaged someone, a someone who displays his emotions in the most unusual fashion and conducts himself in a way to mostly repel affection. But he’s my damaged someone. I understand him. I know how to ease him, handle him, and most importantly, I know how to love him. Despite his lifelong mission to reject the potential of feeling and caring, he’s let me fight my way past his harsh, cold exterior – helped me do it, to a certain extent – and I’ve allowed him to have the same effect on me. How I’m feeling right now, safe, cherished, loved, was worth every modicum of heartache we’ve both endured to this point. He accepts me and my history. We’re worlds apart but utterly perfect for each other. He’s beautiful from afar, and he’s equally beautiful up close. And beneath that external beauty, he’s even more beautiful. It goes deep, and the deeper I look, that beauty only strengthens. I’m the only person who sees it, and that’s because I’m the only person who Miller has allowed to see it. Just me. He’s mine. All of him. Every beautiful piece.

Miller’s teeth sinking into my shoulder and his pulsing length still buried within me brings me back down to earth, where I’m staring at the ceiling and my fingers are numb and set in place from my fierce grip of the wall’s gripper things. I’m exhausted but energised, weak at the knees but strong within. ‘I watched you once,’ I whisper. I’m not sure why I’m compelled to tell him this.

He sucks my flesh into his mouth and pecks his bite mark lightly before sweeping my hair into his fist and turning my face into him. ‘I know you did.’

He doesn’t ask what I mean or where I watched him. He knows. ‘How?’

‘My skin tingled.’

My smile is one of confusion as I search his eyes, looking for anything more than those three confounding words. I see sincerity, total belief in his statement. ‘Your skin tingled?’

‘Yes, like subtle fireworks exploding under my skin.’ His face remains straight.

‘Fireworks?’

His lips meet my forehead and his h*ps retreat, his semi-arousal slipping free. My knickers and shorts also slip back into place, leaving me resentful and bitter for my loss. I’m gently turned in his arms, my hair arranged neatly down one side and my arms draped over his na**d shoulders. He’s damp and warm, and his skin is glistening under the harsh artificial light of the studio. My affronted body and lack of Miller inside me is forgotten when my eyes and mind are met by the hard planes of his torso – tight ni**les, smooth skin and chiselled muscles. It’s truly a sight to behold.

I watch him scan the wall behind me before edging me a fraction to the left, and then that masterpiece of a physique moves in and barricades me against the coolness behind me, every inch of his semi-nakedness coating my gym-clad body. His forefinger rests under my chin and directs my face up to his. ‘Up here.’ He smiles and kisses my cheek tenderly. ‘Share with me your tell.’

‘My tell?’ The confusion in my voice isn’t concealable. I have no idea what he’s talking about. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

He gives me a dimple smile, cute and almost shy. ‘When you’re near, even out of touching distance, my skin lights up. Like fireworks. Every inch of my flesh tingles deliciously. That’s my tell.’ His palm cups my cheek, his thumb ghosting over the surface of my lips. ‘That’s how I know you’re close by. I don’t need to be able to see you. I feel you, and when we physically touch’ – he blinks lazily and pulls a long, steadying breath – ‘those fireworks explode. They make me dizzy. They’re beautiful, bright, and consuming.’ Leaning in, he kisses the tip of my nose. ‘They represent you.’