Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
mia
He doesn’t give me a break though. Just stays right there, beard glossy, breath heating the wetness between my thighs.
“You’re shaking, baby,” he rasps, tongue gliding across me, taking his sweet fucking time. But when he flicks my clit, he’s sharp. Deadly.
“Pressss—” He licks pure voltage into me, and I jolt.
He smiles, looking entirely too pleased with himself. To be fair, he cracked some secret code and now owns the patent to my orgasms.
“Yes, Mia?” He kisses the spot gently this time.
God, his words and breath down there are more than I can take. I need him inside me before I come again.
“Cock. Now.”
But instead, the man rests his cheek on my thigh. Like it’s a goddamn pillow. No rush. No shame. No survival instinct.
“You’ll get it, baby. I’m nowhere near done with you.”
“Yeah, I gathered that part from when my legs forgot how to leg, and yet, you continue to show me no pity.”
His thumb traces a lazy path up my inner thigh, too casual for the timing and shameless in its confidence. “You have a list, Trouble. I plan to make a dent in it. What have we ticked already? Fingering. Blow job. Both ways, huh? The balls.”
I snort. “That’s one way to go. Death by checklist.”
I expect him to laugh. Maybe kiss my thigh and finally give me what I want. But instead, he parts me again and settles back. Does he think I’m his last meal?
“Preston…”
“Shhhh. No talking.” His breath skates over my clit. “Unless you’re reading that list or answering to me.”
May this be known as the first time I’ve let a man shush me.
His tongue flattens against me, unhurried. Not teasing now. Worshiping. His fingers grip my thighs tighter when I squirm.
“I already made you come,” he murmurs, tonguing lower. “Now I want to feel you beg.”
I grip the sheets. Not because I’m dramatic, but because I’m about to levitate.
He licks up the rest of the mess I made, chasing every drop, pressing his tongue flat to gather the last of me, then swallowing on a low, rough sound.
Only then he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue in precise spirals.
One arm slides under my thigh. Then the other.
He hooks his hands over my hips, locking me in place.
I whimper. It’s involuntary. So is the way my hips buck.
He moans right into me. Filthy bastard. My head thrashes from side to side.
“Still with me?” he asks, lips brushing right where I need him.
“Barely,” I rasp.
“Good. I want you too fucked-out to speak when I play with your toys.”
Oh, lord. Oh, help. Toys?
Fuck. Fuck.
I’d forgotten. Of course I did. I can’t think when he’s got his head between my thighs. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.
“You brought more than that rose-gold one, didn’t you?” His tongue flicks over me like punctuation. “In that big bag you hauled in with you.”
“What?” My breath catches. “You read minds now?” I tease and deflect at the same time, because yes. Yes, I did.
“Mia,” he says, tone dipping into that dangerous velvet one he uses when he’s about to do something I’ll love to hate. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Fuck. Yes.”
“Good girl.” He pulls back, face gleaming with satisfaction and everything else I gave him. “I just hoped. And after hearing some of your list, I figured it was worth asking.” He grins. “Can I get them?”
I nod, mourning the loss of his mouth.
He’s naked and on a mission, already halfway across the room, while I’m still trying to remember how to form full sentences.
Preston’s back in a second after fishing a fluorescent pouch from my oversized purse. He sits between my legs, unzips the bag and starts pulling the toys out, one by one. I brought four. Not out of wild optimism, but sheer indecision.
The Satisfyer he caught me using the other morning.
A mini wand.
A tiny vibrating butt plug.
And, of course, the classic: my reliable, penis-shaped vibrator, with clit-tickling bunny ears.
That one, my faithful star-bringer, now looks like a pencil worn to a stub next to the log currently staring at me.
Thank fuck I never got to the ‘try DP’ part of the list. I don’t want to give Preston false hope when I’m not even sure I can take just him. But hey. One delicious problem at a time.
Preston inspects each toy. “You brought fucking Disneyland to me, do you know that?” he mutters, flicking one on.
The sudden buzz makes me jump.
He glances up, attention back on me, wicked plans peeking behind his eyes. He turns it off and slides his palm up my slit, gathering everything I’m dripping for him and smearing it up my breasts in lazy strokes.
Then he licks it off. Starts at my nipples. Doesn’t stop until I’m panting his name for the whole city to hear while he plays with me—tugging, holding my tits up and taut for his greedy mouth. As if this is what he’s craved for years, not days.
“Are you ready for us, Mia?”
“Us?” My breath hitches. I’m worried, but more than that, I’m so fucking curious.
I stiffen, waiting. I don’t dare look.
And then I feel it: the tip of the vibrator nudging my entrance. It’s on a low speed, but my body doesn’t care. Preston’s about to fuck me with it. Oh yeah, I’m ready.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan, hips rolling down to meet it. I need to be filled.
“You’re so wet, baby. It’s sliding right in. Your pussy is swallowing it whole.”
“More. Give me more.”
I meant the toy. But instead, he eases a finger in around it. Tight turns tighter, and a sweet burn welcomes them in, as my body makes room for both.
“More?” he growls. So dirty, so hopeful.
“Yes.” It’s the only possible answer. This feels twisted, but also good. So good.
His finger slips further, moving in tandem with the vibrator. Thrusting. Widening. Defying physics.
Jesus. Is this what it’ll feel like when he fucks me?
“Can you take one more?”
Oh God, it will feel like more. I need an ambulance on standby.
“You’re taking us so well, baby. Such a fucking good girl.”
He was aiming for the ‘good girl’, but it’s that ‘us’ that’s pushing me closer to the brink. That blows away any trace of self-preservation I have left. I’m done for.
I fuck them back, his finger and my vibrator, until it all feels as one, until I’m dripping and shivering. It’s all blur, all pleasure, all need.
“More, please. I need one more.”
The second finger takes more work. My body fights it at first, but Preston turns on the bunny ears. That flicker against my clit is pure sabotage. I gasp, welcoming the new stretch with a cry. It’s beyond what I thought was my limit. And I’m loving it.
He’s slow. Intentional. But once he’s all the way in, both fingers pumping beside the toy, his calm flies out the window. His thrusts go wilder, his mouth spewing filth with the urgency of a man who’s lost control.
“Look at this perfect cunt,” he pants, watching me unravel. “Wide open. Desperate for more. For me. Ready to take my cock.”
“Yes. God, yes. I want it. I need you. Please.”
I reach for his shoulders, yanking him closer so he sees how serious I am.
“Don’t make me wait anymore. I want you so deep I don’t know who I was before this.”
He pulls his fingers out carefully, then tosses the toy aside. Preston braces himself over me and crashes into a kiss that’s pure fire. His cock—his fucking monster—presses through my entrance, slick and heavy, then rubs against my clit like a threat.
I open my legs as wide as they’ll go. “If you tear me in two mid-thrust, put that on my tombstone. That’s a fucking honorable death.”
He grins down at me, cocky and a little unhinged, cheeks flushed and jaw ticking.
“You say shit like that, baby,” he drawls, pressing the blunt head of his cock against my slit, “and you think I’ll go easy?”
Then he pushes in. Slow, splitting me inch by inch. My breath shatters. My back arches. He’s rewriting the limits of my body.
“You feel that?” His voice is a jagged rasp. “That’s just the tip, and you’re already squeezing the life out of me.”
His eyes drop to where we’re joined, mesmerized. He watches my cunt stretch, jaw tightened, restraint fraying at the seams. “You ready for me to ruin that tight little pussy, Trouble?”
“Yes,” I breathe, thighs trembling, hands clawing at his arms. “Wreck me.”
He pushes forward, only a bit, and my whole body flinches. “Jesus,” he hisses through his teeth. Every vein in his forearms stands out, his control stretched thin. Good. I’m doing things to him too.
“Fuck, Mia. You’re going to kill me. This cunt was made for me. I fucking knew it.”
I whimper. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss I’m not sure I’ll survive, just as he pushes in a fraction deeper.
Pres doesn’t stop kissing me, nor giving me more of him. He pulls out and pushes back in easier each time, his cock coated in me. “Are you okay?” he checks in. His care makes me hotter, and my hips turn reckless, meeting his thrusts harder.
“I’m so much better than that.” It’s the greatest mix of stretch, fullness and pleasure I’ve ever felt.
He brushes a strand off my forehead, impossibly tender for a moment like this. But that’s Pres. “There’s no rush,” he rasps, as his cock parts me further. “You don’t need to work that hard, baby, this needy little cunt is already sucking me in.”
She is. God help me, she is. I couldn’t stop the way I’m clenching if I wanted to. Which I don’t.
He holds still, letting my hips take over. Watching me fight to breathe, to hold back the orgasm clawing up my spine.
I clutch his face now, desperate for more, and nearly gone. “Please, don’t stop. I want your cum leaking out of me every time I move.”
Preston grins. “There’s no stopping now, Trouble.” And he rocks forward just enough to prove it.