Chapter 20 Laney
Chapter twenty
Laney
We’re doing fun stuff now.
“Grab my ankles.” Miguel commands.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Yes Laney, hold them as you dip down. I’ll be pushing up.”
“Why can’t we just do this normally.”
“Because this is more fun.”
“Fun isn’t exactly a word I’d use to describe you and your coaching.”
“Well, add it. We’re doing fun stuff now.”
“Is this because Mr. Death Wish asked me how long I’d been training with my uncle?” I ask as I stand between Miguel’s spread legs. “He was doing it to piss you off.”
“Well, it worked. But I’m still going to show him how much you love touching me.”
“Can I just say I don’t particularly love the idea of holding your ankles while I do a squat and you do a push up. It seems, like, weird.”
“It’ll be great.” He says as he rolls over to his stomach. I enjoy the view of his ass and admire all the things his navy athletic shorts are doing for it.
“Fine.” I reach down in a deadlift position and grab his ankles. “I’ll count out.”
“Let’s start at the top.” Miguel says and he pushes up into a plank position and I make sure my arms rest at my sides where they’re supposed to.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Down,” Miguel says and I inhale.
“Two, three.” I say and then I exhale. “Lift, two three.”
“Great Laney, again. Let’s shoot for twenty five.”
And so we repeat the ridiculous squat/push up/plank move another two dozen times.
I tried, and failed, not to smile as Miguel turned his head to glare at Mr. Death Wish after twelve reps.
Being claimed feels decadent.
Miguel’s territorial-pushing-medieval display makes me feel high and I find myself pushing harder to win even more of his affection.
I want him to see me as strong, and capable.
And to see I am choosing him, too.
“My legs feel wobbly.” I admit as I lean against the wall of the elevator.
“Almost there.” He says quietly.
After the squats/push ups/planks we moved to a mat and did some stretching and then Miguel invited me upstairs for lunch.
The food he’s been making me isn’t just delicious, it has taken a whole worry off my list. I haven’t known what and how much to eat for triathlon training. My last dietary coaching happened in college when I was doing long distance running only.
So, I’ve tried, maybe not my best since my diet was significantly made up of Nature Valley bars and bananas, but I’ve tried nonetheless.
And now, with Miguel’s prepped meals, I have breakfast, lunch, and snacks figured out every day.
He opens the door to his condo and guides me to the sofa. Once I’m seated he walks to the fridge and takes out a mason jar filled with a purple smoothie.
“Kale, mixed berries, banana, coconut water, and protein powder.” He says as he hands it to me.
“Sounds healthy, thank you.” I take a sip. “Oh, it is delicious.”
“Thanks.” He takes a drink of his and then turns back to the fridge. “Do you like chicken salad?”
“I do.”
“Great, two sandwiches coming right up.”
“I can help.” I say, but it’s weak. And Miguel knows it.
“Nah, you sit there Princess. I’ll do all the work.”
I bite my lip as I smile.
Miguel needs someone to take care of him too. But, not in this nurturing way, his love language is clearly acts of service so, how can I serve him?
Maybe what he needs from me is simply to let him be in control.
“You had a lot of fun showing Mr. Death Wish who I belonged to.” I mutter as he gets out the ingredients..
“I couldn’t show him the way I wanted to.” Miguel says as he leaves the sandwich fixings and crosses the room to sit next to me on the sofa.
My eyes widen with each step closer he takes and my heart skips a beat when his fingers trace along my thighs.
“No? How did you want to show him?” I tease on whispered breath.
But the joke is on me, because Miguel pulls me roughly onto his lap and between my bike shorts and his thin workout shorts I can feel exactly how he plans to claim me.
His hands roughly grip each side of my jaw as he pulls my lips to his and with all the intensity of our workout we devour each other. His familiar hint of cinnamon taste blends with the sweat of our effort and I find myself inhaling deeply through my nose to get more of him.
One hand trails down my back and grips my ass tightly.
“You up for a little cardio?” He growls against my collar bone.
“Yes.” I pant.
“Let’s see then.” And he guides me off his lap. As I stand before him he peppers kisses down my abdomen and then drags my shorts down to my ankles. He holds my hips as I step out of them and then he reaches up and helps to tug off my sports bra.
I can feel the salt and grime on my skin from the dried sweat. I can only imagine how rank things smell between my legs.
A tiny step back on my part causes Miguel to reach up and roughly grip my thigh.
“Stay put.” He commands and I do.
I don’t know what to do with my hands until Miguel starts to pull his shirt over his head and I reach forward to help free him of the fabric.
My hands rest on his shoulders as he lifts his hips and pulls his shorts and boxer briefs down together.
His cock stands proudly against his stomach and suddenly I don’t care at all how sweaty we were.
The desire for him in my mouth is almost intensified knowing he’ll taste sweaty.
Before I can sink to my knees Miguel slides his fingers along my seam and my knees wobble.
“Laney baby, you’re soaked.” Miguel whispers as his thick fingers caress my pussy.
Yes, yes. I chant in my head, starting to feel dizzy with the lust consuming my body.
He runs his hand from my ass, lightly caressing my thigh, until he gets to my knee and he guides my leg up to the couch next to him.
With my foot on the edge of the cushion, and his shoulder along my knee, I’m exposed and vulnerable and yet I know his only objective is to take care of me.
Miguel’s thumb pushes against my clit as he sinks one finger, then two, inside me. Working me to the brink. He bites gently across my stomach to my hip bones as he fingers me until I’m trembling and barely able to stand.
My nails dig into his shoulders and my hips curl and jerk as my orgasm ricochets through my body.
“Do I need a condom?” Miguel asks.
“I have an IUD.”
“Do you want me to use a condom? I haven’t been with anyone lately, and I’m clean, last time I checked.” He says as he continues to pulse his fingers inside me.
“I need your cock, Miguel.” I answer. “Now, no condom, I need you filling me.”
“Fuck Princess.” He curses as he slides his fingers out of me and grips my thighs pulling me forward as he leans back on the sofa.
I straddle him and reach for his fingers. I pull them past my lips and suck myself off him. Instead of pulling his fingers out he pushes them to the back of my throat and I gag.
“Good girl, now, spit.” He turns his hand around so his palm is facing up.
Without thinking I pull saliva to my lips and drop it into his waiting hand.
He strokes his cock, lubricating himself, and I am mesmerized by his hand’s movements.
“Laney, baby, ride me, take everything you need.”
Miguel leans back further and thrusts his hips up. His shaft drags along my clit and I buckle forward. He brings his hands behind his head and holds them there. His biceps popping with the restraint he is using to keep his hands off me.
“I’ve dreamt about this cock inside me.” I admit as I rise to my knees and line him up with my entrance.
“Yes you have, Princess, now give your pussy what it wants.”
With matching groans, I drop myself down on Miguel and the pressure of being so full pulses out to my toes. Nothing on heaven or earth has felt this right before. My body was designed to be right here, doing this.
Fuck triathlons.
This is what I’ve been training for.
I rock against him and feel how perfectly his thick cock grinds inside me. My hips circle and Miguel thrusts up into me as his biceps twitch.
“Bounce baby.” He commands and I do.
My knees brace on either side of his hips, squeezing in against the hardness of him as I slide up and down along his length. Each inch of him, both in and out of me, spirals my desire to impossible heights.
“Ohmygods, Miguel.” I gasp as he tilts up to meet me.
My mind blanks. I become a being existing on sensations alone.
The fullness of him inside me takes my breath away.
The warmth of his body against mine is almost unbearable.
The hold we have on each other is almost punishing, but nothing about it feels vengeful.
“That’s it baby, feels so fucking good Laney, you’re my perfect, good, girl.”
Desperate for more of his words I sink down onto him and roll my hips forward.
“Fuck, fuck!” My entire body twitches and I grab my breasts. Pinching my own nipples between my fingers to relieve the tension there.
My legs shake as my clit grates along his pelvic bone and a needy sound escapes my throat as I stay impaled on his cock and rock my hips back and forth, grinding down, seeking my release.
Miguel’s hands finally grip my hips and he somehow pulls me down onto him harder. My breath is shallow as I knead my breasts, Miguel’s lips finding their way to my heated skin, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, relieving the pressure but adding to it at the same time.
Flutters start in my core and travel through my bloodstream as I chant whispered yeses into the air between us.
Miguel’s kisses pepper my neck and collar bone and one hand slides up my spine to the base of my neck.
It’s then he rises, and still inside me, he stands, turns, and lowers us, as one, back to the sofa. I’m on my back and he kneels in between my legs. He hooks his arms under my knees and leans forward putting his hands at my shoulders.
“You okay, Laney?”
“Yes.” I cry as I feel him slowly slide out of me.
“Call me Coach.”
“Yes Coach.” I relent immediately. He can have anything, everything he wants from me.
“You ready to come again, Princess?”
“Yes Coach.”
“This greedy pussy wants it all, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, yes please Coach.” I beg as he holds himself just an inch inside me. My body is clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled.
I want to feel him in me, on me, around me. Consumed by him. He gives me everything I need, and things I didn't even know I needed until I met him.
I feel wanted. Not just in this moment when we’re both on the edge of bliss, but in every interaction.
“I want you Miguel, please, fuck me.” My inner thoughts spilling across my lips.
“I’ll give you everything Laney.” He says as he slides himself in another inch. “And I’m going to take this pussy and make it mine.”
“Gods, yes.” I whimper before he slams himself into me and drives forward, reaching my depths. Seating himself against my body, burying himself inside me.
I feel myself clench around him and he throws his head back in bliss.
“Fuck this pussy, Laney, I’m gone.” He growls as he ruts against me, over and over. My head hits the arm of the sofa and I reach up to brace myself against it, pushing back into him. “Yes, fucking take it and give it back to me.”
His movements stutter and he slows for a moment before unyielding thrusts pound against my body and the slap of his skin against mine fills the room.
“Oh, shit, Miguel!” I scream as my orgasm flies through me.
“Yes baby, yes. I’m gonna–” the words die on his lips as he stills and I feel the heat of his release inside me.
I watch as this beautiful man lets the tension melt from his body.
It cascades down through each of his muscles until he lets my legs fall and he braces himself on his elbow above me, our foreheads touching as we catch our breath.
His hair has come loose and it curtains around us and the cinnamon scent of his breath will always bring me back to this feeling of pure bliss and adoration.
Miguel presses a gentle kiss to my lips as he pulls out, our shared release spreading across my thighs. I reach up and rake my hands through his hair pulling him closer. Languid kisses become our recovery pace.
We stay that way, savoring each other until we both feel his cock as it recovers and grows harder against me again.
“Stay with me next weekend?” He whispers against my breast.
“At the race?”
“Yeah, cancel your hotel room.”
Should I admit to him I didn’t have one to begin with and tempt his wrath? Or give him the satisfaction of thinking I’m doing as he wishes?
Wrath is tempting.
So is submission.
I look up into his deep brown eyes and the tenderness there sways my decision.
“Yes, Coach.”