Page 251 of Trouble from Abroad
She traces my skin to my belt. Undoes it. Pops the button off my pants. But instead of going for the zipper, she slides the belt from every loop and drops it on top of my shirt.
My mind goes wild. There’s only one reason she’d bother with that much ceremony, unless the belt’s fair game today. I need to hear that list. Now.
I love being the one who guides her, but this? Letting her lead? It’s a whole new kind of thrill.
I’m too focused on how her hands feel, and suck in a breath when I hear every notch of the zipper parting—tick, tick, tick. She pulls it down slowly, excruciatingly so. Every tiny tooth releases with a click I feel in my spine. She moves with unhurried purpose, and it’s obscene how loud it sounds when my whole world’s gone quiet.
Desire has turned my senses inside out, and right now, the only thing I hear is her.
The only thing I feel is her.
The only thing I see is my imminent undoing.
“I know some of that list by heart, Pres.”
She pushes down what she can of my pants and boxers without kneeling. I finish the job, stepping out of them, socks and all.
“I want to see you. Feel you. Taste you. I don’t want to be denied anymore.”
She wraps one hand around the head of my cock, slick with pre-cum from the car ride. She rubs slow circles over the tip, and I groan, jerking forward, then away, too sensitive for that kind of attention.
Her other hand closes around my length—tight and confident, just like I taught her. I thrust into her grip, slow, steady, fighting the urge to spill on her fingers.
“I’m not here to deny you anything, Mia. I’m here to tend to your every whim.” Our foreheads meet, breaths mingling. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want. I’m at your mercy.”
“Then follow me.” She lets go of my cock and takes my hand, leading me to the end of bed, where she sits at the edge. The height sets her perfectly for what’s coming next.
“Well, professor,” she purrs, “top of my list? Teach me how to suck cock. How to take it deep. How not to gag. How to leave a man speechless and desperate for more of me after I suck him dry.”
Her words drive me the wrong kind of mad. I haven’t fucked Mia yet, and I’m already intent on ruining her for other men. I’m teaching her to suckmycock, and my cock only.
And fuck, I can’t wait to see her choke on it. Eyes watering, drool running down her chin, mouth stretched wide, stuffed full of me.
The irrational beast in my chest roars that the only man she's sucking dry is me.
And yet, underneath that possessive fire, something deeper flickers—because any man lucky enough to know hershould be left speechless. Sharing a laugh with her is more than enough. No blow jobs required.
I haul my mind back to the present, to the blue hunger staring up at me. Waiting.
“You’ve seen me, felt me. Now open for another taste, baby.”
That wicked smile, right before she licks her lips, makes my balls tighten.
Her flat tongue drags over the head of my cock, slowly. First the slit, then a circle around the crown. My eyes slam shut.
“I really,reallylike how you taste.”
“Ditto, baby.”
“Should I suck now?” she asks between licks.
I huff a laugh rather than beg.
“Mia, you’ve got my cock in your hands and mouth. You can do no wrong, baby. Believe me.”
Her lashes frame the intent in her eyes, and she opens her mouth wide, staring straight at me. I watch entranced as she sticks her tongue out, my cock growing impossibly harder in her grip.
Yep, she fixed me, all right.
