Page 95 of Trouble from Abroad
My words have the opposite effect. Either semantics arelost on Mia, or she’s weaponizing them, because she keeps moving forward, taking more of me. Inch after greedy inch. She's hell-bent on testing the limits of human anatomy.
I’m by no means… average. I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms, seen enough porn to know I’m firmly on the higher end of the spectrum. Which right now feels less like bragging rights and more like a goddamn hazard.
She starts to struggle; mouth stretched taut, lips straining around me. Beautiful. She’s about halfway down now, and the deeper I go, the tighter it gets around the head.
“I know you said you wanted to learn not to gag,” I rasp. She nods—or tries to—with her mouth so full. And fuck me, the sight alone nearly undoes me. Eyes bright with the effort while her throat welcomes me in. “But watching you choke on me? That would destroy me, Mia. Seeing your eyes water, feeling your throat squee?—”
Her hands run up my ass, and she pulls me closer, forcing me deeper. I hiss, teeth clenched, fingers knotting in her hair. Not to control her, but to ground myself.
Jesus Christ. She's about to suck the soul out of me.
“You also said you wanted to taste me, which you did,” I manage. “But you didn’t say if you want to swallow.”
She nods again, urgent and obedient, eyes begging me not to stop.
It should be funny, her nodding with my cock crammed down her throat, but there’s nothing humorous about this. It’s hands-down the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s not taking me all the way tonight. I know that. But the way she tries, the fire in her eyes… makes me believe she will. Soon.
My thighs twitch, abs clamp. I brace a hand behind her head, the other at her nape, as I breathe through the heat searing my spine.
“There’s more to a blow job than just your mouth,” I grind out. “Pump the rest of my length with your hand.” She does. “Harder. Tighter. Yeah. Just like—fuck—that.”
The warning signs start to stack: tight balls, tense gut, fire coiling lower.
I hand her the final command. “Use your other hand under my balls. Run your fingers… right there. Gentle. Yeah. Play with them, baby. That’s it. You’re doing so fucking good.”
I’m gone.
Every wet glide of her hand, every slick stroke of her tongue, every breath that lands on my inches. Mia’s tearing me apart at the seams. And the wildest part is that we’re only getting started.
“Baby,” I grit, barely coherent, “you feel too fucking good. If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you need to stop. Right now.”
Mia doubles down and mumbles something. Probably encouragement, maybe victory. I ease my grip on her hair, giving her the chance to pull away. She doesn’t. So I let go… of everything.
I come hard and fast. Pleasure tears through me as I unload down her throat. My knees nearly fold. My brain blanks. She swallows all of it, every drop, every curse I spit while I finish in her mouth.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t slow. Just drains me stupid.
When I finally see straight, she still has me between her lips, moving in slow motion. Her wet,defiant eyes never lose mine. She looks fierce with pride. Drunk on power and surrender at once. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
She pulls back and licks me clean, tongue tracing every inch like she’s collecting a reward. I tremble harder than a leaf, but as promised, deny her nothing.
The look we share now tells me this wasn’t release. It was permission.
To play. To explore. To wreck her next.
And I plan to start with a shower.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
mia
I didn’t get even halfof him past my lips.
But he never stopped staring at me—except when his eyes rolled back in bliss. One second, he was cursing at the ceiling; the next, he was whispering praise, hands cradling my scalp.
There are no words for how Preston makes me feel. Queen? Goddess? They don’t rank high enough. I need an entirely new tier of worship hierarchy.
