Page 72 of Trouble from Abroad
“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.
Either way, he’s got me. Right where he wants me.
CHAPTER THIRTY
preston
I bringher sorry excuse for pajama pants and panties down in one go. Her pussy’s even better than I dreamed of. Plump lips, already glistening, ripe for the taking. My mouth waters at the sight.
A neat triangle of hair poses as a little arrow pointing to the entrance to my new obsession. As if I need directions.
“Do you have any idea how long this day has been? How torturous?” I rake my gaze up to her face and catch the way she shudders. “I’ve been counting the minutes to find out how you taste.” I lower my mouth closer to her pussy, watching the tremor in her thighs. “To see how many fingers you’d let me fuck you with.” I slide one into her entrance and hear her knees knock together. “And how tight you’ll clench when I finally get to bury myself inside you.” Her cunt grips me. A wicked preview.
Her breathing turns choppy. Her hands leave the wall, and she clutches my hair for dear life. As she should, because I’m about to take her for a ride.
“Preston, you’re killing me. Stop talking if you don’twant me to come right fucking now.” She’s humping the air, desperate and glistening and so goddamn gorgeous, I nearly forget what I’m doing.
“No, baby. I told you.All over my face. You’ll be dripping from my beard by the time I’m done with you.”
She tries to yank me into her pussy by my hair.
“That’s it. Show me who you are when you lose control. That’s what I want. The raw version. The real you.”
I hold her hips steady and dive in. One slow lick, broad tongue dragging up her slit, parting her for me. That’s all it takes to know that I’m doomed.
One taste, and I know there’ll never be such a thing as enough. I’ll never stop needing this. Needing her.
Her flavor floods my mouth. She’s sweet, slick, and hot on my tongue. It’s fucking divine. This goes beyond lust. It becomes an instant obsession.
“Of course, Trouble would taste sweet.” I lick deeper this time, gathering more of her and sucking her clit into my mouth like I’ve got nothing but time.
She coats my tongue, overriding every sense I’ve got. I swallow her down and groan against her—low and steady, so she feels it.
“Of course you’d turn me into an addict with one taste. Fucking hell, Mia.” I dive back into her, feeding my hunger as she whimpers and releases one hand from my hair, biting into it to muffle her moans.
Fuck, I want her loud. Wild. We can’t, but that doesn’t stop me wanting her to let go for me.
