Page 92 of Outspoken

He lets out a loud laugh, covering his smile with a fist. After a moment, his amusement settles and his gaze becomes molten. His eyes devour my naked skin. “I could say the same about you.”

I love the way he looks at me.

I love his laugh.

I soften into the bed, letting his words soak in until my desire for him isn't purely physical.

It scares the shit out of me.

As he slips his pants off, I angle my head to the left, only watching from the corner of my eye. His cock springs free of the fabric, and I’m left gaping again in surprise.He’s thick.Extremely thick.

In an attempt to distract myself from the not-purely-physical cravings I’m experiencing, I sit up to take off my heels. He crawls across the bed until he’s over me, pushing me flat on my back before I can get the heels off. His hips lower, spreading my legs. The head of his cock hovers inches from my opening.

“Leave them,” he demands. “It’s sexy.” He nibbles on the tender skin of my breast.

It’s hard to keep my voice steady with him in this position—with the confident way he’s surrounding me. “How…How many fetishes of yours am I going to discover today? And where has this assertive Miguel been hiding? I’m enjoying him.”

He shrugs and a strand of his loose, curly hair brushes my cheek. He hovers over me with his hands on either side of my head like a lion ready to pounce. “You wanna talk about it, or let me fuck you?”

The muscles between my thighs clench. “I…I want—”

He shoves his thickness inside me, and I gasp. He doesn’t stop to let me adjust, only thrusts with deep, penetrating strokes, his back undulating under my palms as I dig my nails in.

Then he’s kissing me. Then biting my neck. Kissing me again. Thrusting harder. Then his hand is pulling on a nipple, then massaging, and I’m lost in his vanilla scent and the sweet aroma that’s distinctly Miguel.

Steady, handsome, caring, funny, upbeat, wonderful Miguel.

I’m lost in all of him as he gives me the most delicious feeling of fullness I’ve ever known.

I cling to his arms, my voice wavering as I moan out, “Fuck me.”

“I am.”

“Fuck me,” I say again, but the words don’t match what it feels like I’m actually trying to say. “I…fuck me…you…” I bite down on his bicep, half delirious from pleasure, half wanting to silence my stupid mouth.

No feelings.Only fucking.

He cries out from the bite. “Fuck, mi amor, I am.”

“Harder,” I moan. “Harder, please.” This is everything I’ve needed and craved for so long.

Miguel.

His pace slows so each thrust has more force and weight.

My moans become grunts and borderline screams.

This. I just want this.

Him.

I crave him.

I need him.

Heat builds inside me until I’m ready to burst, but I don’t want it to end yet. I need more of everything with him, and I need it dirty because that’s what makes sex so fun.

I touch his sweaty temple. “Come on me.”

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