Page 256 of Trouble from Abroad
“Get fingered properly.” I read what’s written. “Not hunting-for-loose-change style. And not just one knuckle and vibes. I want pressure. Curves. Groans from both sides.Real intent.” I swallow. “You gave me all that and then some.” His stare sears my skin. “I can cross this off.”
I hesitate, then think better of it. “Actually, no. I’d like more of that.”
“Today,” then he adds, “I’ll have that pussy on my tongue, then my fingers, then my cock.”
My eyes search for a distraction, landing on the next item on the list.
I’m cringing before saying it out loud.
CHAPTER FORTY
mia
“Number seven—”I squeeze my eyes shut. No need to read it. I know what it says. “Attempt to ride his face without crushing him.”
“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about that.” My eyes snap open in shock, and I see him palming himself through the towel, the thick outline impossible to miss. I’ve got no choice but to believe him.
“Seriously?” I blurt too loud, while my face scrambles to catch up with what I just heard.
“Nights. Mornings. Showers, mostly. I made a mess of myself every time I imagined you on my face, dripping down my beard while I held your ass in both hands.”
His hand glides to my knee, then between my thighs, nudging them and the towel open, just enough to make me feel exposed.
“Eight, Mia.” He sounds ragged now. Barely hanging on. “I like to think I’ve got some grip on my self-control, but I’m about to lose this battle. Read number eight.”
“Eight.” I barely get the word out. “Get spanked and seeif I like it. Not full medieval execution, just… enough to feel owned. To leave marks. To feel it the next day.”
“Fuck, Mia.” His eyes flick to mine. “Is that why you pulled my belt off?”
Preston’s fingers sneak further under the towel, grazing the inside of my thighs, stopping just shy of where I need him most. His holdback is maddening.
A single finger brushes my entrance. He hisses through his teeth and shuts his eyes for a second. I’m dripping for him.
I shift down onto his hand, silently begging for more, but he draws back. “Answer me, Mia.”
“Maybe.” My voice wavers. “I wasn’t thinking about it at first, but… it definitely crossed my mind when it hit the floor.”
His head hangs. “For the love of God,nine.”
“Number nine,” I say, and he slips a finger in. I clench, inviting him in, needing more. “Earn a ‘good girl’ from him.”
“Ten,” he manages the syllable out. Another finger joins, stealing a bit of air from my lungs.
“Ten,” I grit out. “Try edging. Be denied. Be ruined oh-so-slowly. Beg for it. Cry for it.” The smile curling his lips is downright perverse. “Damn it, you’re already making me regret this one, Pres.”
He turns his wrist, fingers angling up, and the hunt for that magical spot begins. Not that it takes long. He’s got me trembling and wired in no time.
I don’t need prompting. “Eleven: Let him finish on me. Or in me. Weigh the risks, take the tests, do the prep.”
“How long is that list, Mia?” His patience is wearingthin, his restraint’s a hair from snapping. He thrusts deep, and the tips of his fingers do ungodly things on their way out.
“Too fucking long.” I throw the paper aside, cursing the tree it came from. “Can we start with the basics?”
I fling my towel open and yank him closer. “Fuck me, Preston. Or break me in two trying, because honestly, you’re too big, and I’m too greedy for my own good. I’m not convinced I can take you… but, God, do I want you to prove me wrong.”
He laughs, but I’m dead serious. What was I thinking, ever considering anal with this man?
“Oh, baby, don’t you worry.” His voice is rough. Decadent. Exactly how I imagine the devil would sound. “We’ll make it fit.”
