Page 93 of Outspoken

His expression twists, as if my words have brought him right to the edge. “Where?” he asks, breathless.

I move his hand to my breast to show him. “But fuck me deeper first.”

With a smirk, he says, “So demanding.”

He raises himself to swiftly grab my hips, yanking me hard against him with each thrust. His cock reaches my limits and tries to break them. When I let out an, “Oh, fuck,” he pulls out quickly, positioning himself on his knees beside me.

I rub between my legs, staring up at this gorgeous man and his every muscle as he towers above me. He strokes himself with long, forceful movements, his bicep and pecs flaring.

As I’m waiting in anticipation—his cock hovering inches above my breast as I try to keep myself from orgasming before his delicious cum is all over me—he does something that startles me to my core.

He caresses my cheek with one of his caring, tender touches that I don’t know how to handle. His eyes soften, making my heart flutter.

“Amber.”

A second later, he sucks in a sharp breath, moaning in short, deep-throated gasps as pleasure washes over his face. I shift my gaze to his cock as cum spills from the tip onto my skin. Hot. Thick. Satisfying.

Then he places his hand on top of mine between my legs, working my fingers for me. I unravel—the tension in my stomach breaking and tearing me open.

Miguel moves, positioning his face between my legs, stroking me with his molten tongue, and turning my moans into screams. He slips two fingers inside me.

“More,” I call out.

A third finger.

“More.”

He forces a fourth in, even though I’m too tight to accept it. It hurts, but I love it. I need fullness. More.

More.

My body shakes and twitches and I’m helpless to stop whatever strange things happen. I must get lost in ecstasy and moan for several long minutes because, when I finally return to reality, Miguel's brown eyes are gazing at me with growing concern from between my legs.

Though the fading waves of the orgasm are still rolling through me, I laugh. Miguel raises himself to smile at me. His hand is still caressing my folds and opening, helping me ease out of what I just experienced.

“God, I really needed that,” I say, grinning at him and falling limp on the sweaty sheets. “You’re amazing.”

He puffs out his chest. “Yeah? Well, it’s not hard with you telling me what to do.”

“Sorry.”

“Damn, don’t be. I loved how you used my cock for your pleasure.” Tenderness slips back into his eyes as he moves higher up in the bed.

He tries to lay an arm across my stomach to cuddle, so I bolt upright into a sitting position.

I don’t cuddle.

I glance around for a tissue but can’t find one. With a shrug, I grab part of the sheet to clean my chest. If someone is going to throw a party like this, they should know the consequences.

As I shuffle around the room to grab my thong, dress, and wristlet, Miguel stays on the bed, looking stoic. After I’m wearing my thong and shimmying the dress over my body, I glance at him.

One of his arms is bent, propping up his head, as he’s resting on the bed, looking completely comfortable as a nudist. He oozes masculinity like he’s posing for a centerfold. I glance at his growing erection and blush.

Stop blushing. You’ve seen plenty of dicks before.

“Watching you is getting me horny again,” he says. “You can hop on.”

A laugh erupts from my throat. “Hop on? That’s not romantic.”

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