Chapter 31 #2
“You got that right. Someone. Not us.”
If Mia thinks I’ll stand by and let half a dozen men come between me and her pussy, she’s dead wrong.
But I’ve learned how to pick my fights with this one. “I’ll call Mrs. Romano over, our cleaner. She’s been with me since before Lily was born. She’ll watch them like a hawk. We have nothing to worry about.”
That beautiful smile starts to bloom again on Mia’s face.
“I’ll go to therapy. But cancel everything else afterward. We’re spending the day at a hotel. Book it as soon as you wake up. First lesson of the day? Spoil yourself. Pick the fanciest room available. Then hand me your list, and I’ll take care of what’s in there.”
I watch concern darken her expression. Fuck, I love it about her. No armor. No filter. She spills emotion like it’s her default setting.
“Preston Jett. I’m not going anywhere with you if you’re not going to fuck me with that monstrosity, then quite possibly take me straight to the emergency room.
” A giggle escapes me—very embarrassing and unmanly as well.
But that’s okay. She called my dick a medical threat.
I’ll take it. “What you’re doing is torture.
The sweetest, most delicious, edge-of-sanity torture.
But I will lose my damn mind if you keep this up. ”
Propping myself up, I sit lower on her legs and tease her.
“Tell me more about the great suffering you’ve endured tonight, Mia,” I say, circling her clit with my thumb while she squirms. “Tell me how selfish I was, denying you my cock while I ate your pussy until you came. Twice. On the tip of my tongue. Go on. Tell me.”
She doesn’t. She just writhes beneath me, trying to match my rhythm, helpless under my weight as I straddle her thighs.
“Come on, baby. Plead your case. Tell me how I’m torturing you, not about to make you come again.”
“Fuck me with your fingers too,” she pants.
She tries to part her legs, and I spread mine wider to let her. One hand stays on her clit. The other pushes three fingers in and deep, while she massages her big tits and plays with her nipples.
Fast learner. Didn’t even have to ask.
“Would you like to file a formal complaint about the mistreatment you’re enduring?”
She shakes her head hard, hair sticking to her sweaty temples, too gone to speak.
I slow my moves and curl my fingers inside her until I find the spot that makes her squirm and moan my name. “Right here, baby?”
“Yes. Yes. Yessss.” Her pussy confirms it too, but in Morse code.
“Be a good girl and come for me one more time. That way, I can make up for not fucking this tight pussy with my cock tonight. Third orgasm’s the charm, right? You’ll forgive me after three.”
She comes in a soundless cry, her back arching off the bed as I watch the poor, poor woman unravel.
I grin like I just won a fucking championship.
I keep finger-fucking her through it—slow and deep enough to keep her twitching—and rub her clit in soft, reverent strokes until her pussy doesn’t have a heartbeat anymore.
She’s orgasm-dazed. Spent and glowing. Sleep drags her under on the afterglow. I’ll retreat to my room happily with tonight’s outcome.
I ease off her, already missing the heat of her body, the scent of her skin. I reach for my clothes on the floor—
“Pres.”
Oh. Not asleep. Her voice is all soft and slurred.
“Yeah, baby?”
“You’re leaking.”
I look down. My cock’s weeping, all right. Mourning the loss of her.
“Your doing.”
She hums, “One taste. From the source. One lick and I’ll stop.”
I try to steady my breath, but fail miserably.
“I swear I won’t start anything.” She’s lying, but she doesn’t know it. She already fucking has.
Mia sits on the bed, and the way she looks up at me—fuck, I couldn’t deny her a thing. If she asked me for an organ, I’d cut myself open right now and ask which one.
I grab onto my clothes, so I have something to cling to as I walk toward her. She licks her bottom lip, bites into it, and my balls pull tight.
I hold my cock with my free hand and offer it to her. I don’t blink. I need her to keep her word so I can stick to my plan and leave before I fuck her.
Mia doesn’t move her hands. She grips the mattress like she’s fighting a battle as hard as mine.
“Feed me,” she whispers, before opening up her mouth and sliding her tongue out.
“Fuck my life,” I breathe out, already losing it.
I rest the tip on her warm tongue, and she leans in—lips closing around the head, sucking down my pre-cum with a long, moaning pull.
It only lasts a few seconds. But it’s branded in my brain.
The way her cheeks hollow. The moan stuck in her throat. Her eyes holding mine like a fucking challenge. Or a promise.
There’s no explanation as to how I keep still and don’t fuck her mouth until she gags. None.
Except this: she kept her word. She let go. And now it’s my turn to walk away.
“I beg to differ,” she says, licking her lips, “it’s even better straight from your cock.” She’s looking at me when she says it. All hunger and honesty and heat.
I don’t know if she can see what she’s doing to me. If I’m as transparent as she is.
I’m torn between wishing I am and hoping I’m not. I’m not sure I’m ready to be this vulnerable again, as much as she deserves to know.
“Don’t take me anywhere if you don’t plan on letting me suck you dry and making sure I leave that hotel walking funny. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I kiss her once. Quick. Any longer and I’m staying.
I get dressed, turn and leave the room. I make it to the bathroom in a couple of strides and come all over my chest in four strokes. Glancing down at the mess, at my still-hard dick, all I see is Mia’s lips wrapped around it.
My balls ache like I haven’t just come. They’re throbbing. So I stroke again—fast, rough, punishing—chasing relief. I spread my legs wider, adjust my stance, bracing like it’s going to take a while.
It doesn’t. One flash of Mia bent over the edge of a hotel bed, and I’m spilling again, ropes of cum coating my fist.
I jump into the shower, scrub it all away, and crawl into bed, bone-tired and wrecked.
Mia’s moans echo in my head like a lullaby, and for the first time in God knows how long, I sleep like I fucking mean it.