Page 123 of Tourist Trap

“Oh, god,” I moan, eyes dripping shut because it’s too much. Too good. Too thick. Too hot.

“Relax your body, baby,” Miles whispers, his hand sliding up and down my back, his words strained. “Let me in.”

I do as he asks, and he slides in a bit further, his hand moving up and down my back. He goes an inch, then lets my body relax, letting him in deeper, before going further. It’s almost sweet, the calm, easy way he’s working into me, the way I know he wants to slide in, but he’s finding the control not to.

Finally, he pushes up against the tight ring of muscle, and I force my body to go limp as he pushes. There’s a slight burst of discomfort tinged with pain before he’s in all the way, his hips against my ass, and then I’m full. So full.

Pleasure cascades over me as he waits there, letting my body get used to the size of him.

“Good?” he asks through gritted teeth, holding onto a thin grasp of control.

I nod into the bed, eyes drifting shut at the feeling. His hand pulls back, slapping my ass, and the movement jerks him a bit deeper. I let out a low moan, every moment of this too much, too much pleasure and feeling.

“I need your words, Claire. Are you good? Are you ready for me to fuck your ass?”

“Please.” I whisper the plea, barely able to get words out.

“Fuuuuuck,’ he groans as he slowly slides out.

My hips shift back instantly, missing him already, and my pussy makes a mess between my thighs. “Miles,” I cry out, the feeling overwhelming the pleasure too fucking much.

“I know,” he says, as he slides back in slowly, filling me. The low, deep groan he lets out tells me just how good this is for him, heightening my pleasure with that knowledge.

“Miles, Miles, Miles,” I say, a chant now as my hips tip back, as I try to get what I need, though I don’t knowexactlywhat that is. “More. I need more.” The words are a plea, one he understands more than I do, because then he pulls out and thrusts in this time, deep and hard, and Iscream.

“Yes!” His responding groan is everything, the grunts he makes every time he pulls out send me spiraling higher. His thumbs dig into my hips now as he pulls back and slams back in, my head snapping back as I moan.

“Rub your clit, Claire," he demands through gritted teeth, and I know that voice: he’s riding the edge and waiting for me to fall first. “Rub it and come with me deep in your ass.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” I chant as he fucks me. I move my hand between my legs, my pussy soaking wet as I slide over my clit, my hand instantly covered in my arousal as I do.

It’s too much.

It’s so good, and it’s too fucking much, the pleasure overwhelming me instantly. My back arches, my head falls forward into the bed, a guttural moan leaving my lips as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. I think I’m screaming, my body shaking with the most intense orgasm of my life. One of Miles’s hands moves to my shoulder, and he thrusts deep inside and stays there, pulsing in my ass as he comes.

“Oh, we’re definitely doing that again,” I grumble into the bed, my body absolutely liquid, and Miles lets out a long, deep laugh.

* * *

After Miles makes me eat and drink about a gallon of water, I’m lying on his chest in his bed—our bed—when I say it. “I’m happy this place is safe,” I say. “But for future reference, can we not bid the entire house on a silly game again?”

He smiles at me and shakes his head.

“I was never going to lose this house, Claire,” he says, pushing my hair back gently. I blink at him, my brow furrowing.

“What?”

He shakes his head at me. “He was never going to get this place. I’d already figured it out when you came home and didn’t have time to tell you my plan before you left in a tizzy.”

“Atizzy?” I say, aghast. I try to sit up, but his arm firmly holds me in place against him.

“Baby, you ran out of this place like you were going to shoot someone.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t even own a gun,” I say as if that makes any sense in this conversation.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbles, but I move right past that, needing to get to the heart of the matter.

“Can we go back toyou weren’t going to lose the house? I came home to you crying over papers and punching walls.”

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