Page 103 of Trouble from Abroad
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.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
preston
Mia whines,claws tightening on my back. Her legs twitch around my waist, trembling with the effort of pulling me closer and keeping herself open.
“Jesus, Mia,” I groan. “You feel like a fucking velvet vice.”
She gasps. “More. I can take more. Pres, fuck me open.”
I don’t move. Not yet. My body shakes with restraint. I’m split between reverence and need.
“You really want my cum, Mia?”
Her eyes snap open. Her mouth parts. I watch her pupils dilate as if I’m feeding her a new drug.
“I’m clean,” I tell her. “I got tested when she left. And my cock hasn’t been hard for anyone—not one goddamn second—until you paraded that naked ass fresh out of the shower and fixed me.”
Her pussy ripples around me, dragging a groan from my chest.
“I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not,” I add, “but I had a vasectomy. So tell me, baby. Can I fill this pussy up? Can I come inside you like I fucking need to?”
“God, yes,” she gasps, barely coherent. “Do it, Pres. Fill me.”
