Page 229 of Trouble from Abroad
Forehead to forehead, breath tangled with mine, he drags me closer by the waist—straight into his hard cock—and asksagain, softer now,deadlier, “May I have this pleasure?”
I nod, but he’s not done.
“I want to make you come, Mia. But make no mistake, this isn’t just for you. I’ve been dying to taste you. To spread you open with my tongue. Then wider with my fingers. To figure out if you lose your mind faster when I suck your clit or when I flick it.”
Oh, fuck. My hips jerk against him on instinct. A needy grind. No shame.
I’ve got toys for each of those sensations—one that pulses, one that flickers—but never a man curious to find out which breaks me first.
“I’m going to make you feel good, baby. So good. I want you soaked and shaking. And when you cry out my name? When your thighs tremble around my face? I’ll feel invincible. Like a fucking god. You begging for more is the part I’m looking forward to the most. Because I’m not stopping, Mia. Not until you're a fucking mess with only my name on your tongue.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” The curses slip out, no louder than a breath. I have no filter, no finesse left as I teeter on the edge, just from hisvoice and the filthy promises spilling from his mouth. I rub myself all over his cock.
“No, baby.” He keeps our foreheads pressed together, but pulls his hips back. I whimper at the loss, mourning the lack of contact. “You come on my face tonight. On my tongue. While I drink your every drop.”
“Preston, I’m about to come just from your words,” I pant.
“You like hearing what I’ll do to you?”
“So much. So bad. The only excuse you have to stop talking dirty like that is if you’re kissing me.”
“Down here too?” His finger slips beneath the wide leg of my shorts, past the edge of my panties. I moan, mouth parting, hips chasing every stroke.
“Fuck, baby. Is this all for me?” His index slides in easy, just the tip. I’m slick and hot, my body eager to take him deeper.
I nod frantically. He has to know. He has to feel what he’s doing to me.
“I’m going to lick this pussy dry, then make you wet all over again. I’m going to eat you until there’s nothing left to taste, then I’m going to keep going just to hear you whimper.”
I whimper on cue, body short-circuiting like it’s voice-activated.
“Remember, Mia, this isn’t just about you.Ineed this. So I'm going to take my time. If you come too fast, I won’t stop. I’ll keep eating you. And you’re going to take it. You’re going to takeme. Tonight, baby,you’re going to let me feast.”
“Oh, God.” My knees buckle, and I grab onto his shouldersto keep standing. His hands move to my waist, steadying me. His hold never falters.
“Not so worried about coming on my face anymore, are you, Miss Thorne?”
“Get down there. Now, Doctor.”
He grins. “With pleasure.”
He drops to his knees like it’s a goddamn reflex. No hesitation, no delay. Just focused hunger.
My head hits the wall. I lift my hips, inviting him closer—in. I don’t remember leaning my shoulders or widening my stance. I don’t recall anything but him between my legs, eyes locked on mine like he’s memorizing the view for every night he’s ever alone again.
And then he tugs my shorts down.
“Preston,” I gasp—part panic, part want.
“Shhh.” His breath brushes my inner thigh. “Let me taste how much you want this.”
I choke on air.
I’ve done things. Daydreamed about this specific thing. But nothing prepared me for his mouth on me. For the soft suck. The filthy groan. The way his tongue slides in slow, like he’s tasting something expensive he doesn’t want to waste.
I make a sound, something between a gasp and a sob.
His hand comes up, palm flat on my belly, holding me in place. Maybe he knows I’m about to levitate.
