Page 117 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

White flashed behind her eyelids—When did I even close my eyes?—and she screamed, chanting Angelo’s name over like a prayer. Her body trembled uncontrollably, tugging at his hair, both of them lost in the moment, moaning in unison. She never wanted it to end.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he groaned, still moving inside her, prolonging her orgasm with his fingers teasing her clit. “Fuck, I might not last if you keep squeezing my cock like that.”

Allison let out a breathless chuckle in her euphoric state, barely noticing as Angelo’s hand left her throat and he lowered her gently to the ground.

“I don’t think I can handle a second round,” she managed to say.

“You don’t have a choice,” he whispered, his voice dark and teasing as she finally began to come back to herself. He turned her around so she was facing away from him. “Now, bend over and hold onto your ankles.”

Oh, fuck.

She moaned at the mere thought of what was coming next, despite her earlier protest. Ready for another trip to the clouds, she spread her legs slightly for balance, accommodating her bump. Then, just as he instructed, she bent over and reached for her ankles, holding on for dear life.

“Promise you won’t let me fall?” she half-joked, a hint of real fear creeping in. She knew how intense Angelo’s movements could be.

“I promise. I will never let you fall.”

The seriousness in his tone struck her, as if he were making a much deeper vow. But the moment quickly shifted as Angelo thrust into her in one smooth, hard motion.

“Oh, fuck!” Allison exclaimed, jolted by the force and angle.

This new position felt incredibly different, as if he was even deeper than before, reaching into her very soul with each thrust. His hands gripped her hips firmly, the pressure so intense it was bound to leave bruises. But she didn’t care. She wanted those marks on her, a tangible reminder of this almost spiritual experience, because the man knewexactlyhow to fuck.

He grunted with every thrust and Allison could do nothing but submit to the relentless pace. “Fuck—eísai téleia.Perfectly made just for me.”

She didn’t know the Greek words he was using, but she was tempted to beg him to say it again. Angelo Taylor speaking Greek was a special kind of aphrodisiac.

Moaning uncontrollably, she was overwhelmed by his praise. He called her beautiful, perfect andhis. His voice alone was enough to send her spiraling towards another orgasm.

His voice, and that monster dick.

“Shit, I can feel you squeezing my cock,” he groaned, punctuating his words with a hushed “Christé mou, de tha antékso”which she was too overwhelmed to ask him to translate. “But you don’t get to come yet. Change of plans.”

Allison’s confusion led to a small protest as he pulled out of her. Her words were cut off when she glanced between her legs and saw Angelo kneeling behind her. “What—”

“Get back up so you don’t get lightheaded, sweet girl. Keep facing that way.”

His words weren’t suggestions, but rushed commands.

Allison felt as if every feminist cell abandon ship as she slowly straightened up to avoid dizziness. She placed her hands against the shower wall, and his approval was clear when he said, “Such a good pet.”

She didn’t have time to react before his tongue literally dove inside her. Angelo was fucking her with his tongue, and while sensation was different from his dick, it was equally pleasurable.

His deep moans reverberated against her sensitive core—whether it was from her taste, or the way her walls clenched around his tongue, she couldn’t tell—and the vibrations sent her knees buckling. His hand on her leg steadied her, grounding her with that single touch, while his other hand found her clit.

One moment his tongue was inside her, skillfully stroking her clit with two talented fingers, and the next he was sucking her folds into his mouth, fingering her with such dexterity she was almost jealous of the women who had taught him that.

Or I would have been, if his mouth didn’t feel so fucking good.

“Angelo, please. I need—”

He briefly lifted his mouth from her, just long enough to say, “I know.” And then he continued, as if his sole purpose in life was to make her come with his mouth and fingers.

He pulled away for a second, whispering, “Come all over my face, Allison. I want your juices dripping off my chin.”

The vivid image, combined with his skilled tongue and fingers, was too much for her. She imploded, moaning his name as her knees gave out. But both his hands caught her, holding her up as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

He didn’t let me fall.

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