“I wanted three months. We could do this for another six weeks.” He searched my face, and I hid my disappointment. “We’re both not ready for this to be over.”
It was true. However, I had a horrible feeling we were both not ready for totally different reasons.
Yet the thought of not seeing Callan after this, not having him hold me when I needed him or sleeping next to him, not feeling him move inside me, deeper than anyone had ever been before …
In my confusion and heartache, I found myself agreeing to another six weeks.
Relief flooded Callan’s expression. He didn’t hide it.
That confused me even more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
BETH
The truth was with how on edge Callan had been that night, I’d expected rough, hard, fast sex as soon as we walked into his flat. Instead, he seemed contemplative as he held my hand and guided me into his bedroom.
I waited, following his lead, insecurities, worries, doubts all mixing with this insatiable attraction.
Callan held my gaze, his intense and filled with desire as he shrugged out of the Harrington jacket he’d worn over a black T-shirt. The T-shirt followed the jacket onto the armchair in his bedroom. His shoes and socks were next.
My skin heated as I took in his glorious nakedness, my belly clenching deep and low. He was so unfairly beautiful, but my attraction had only deepened over time. Not lessened. Because the sexiest man could be standing in front of me right now, but if he wasn’t Callan Keen, I wouldn’t be interested.
Heart racing, I licked my lips in anticipation as Callan unbuckled the slim leather belt wound through the loops of his suit trousers. Then he was shucking out of those, revealing his sculpted footballer’s legs.
Finally, his boxer briefs joined the pile, and I was faced with a very naked, very turned-on Callan. He stroked his cock as he gazed at me before he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Come here.”
I crossed to him and he reached for me, gripping my waist in his strong hands. For a few seconds, Callan coasted his palms over my arse, up my back, around my waist, and down my hips again. His touch dipped down the back of my thighs, and I shivered as he met bare skin and pushed his hands under my dress, taking the hem with him. We’d never been this quiet in bed before. Usually Callan murmured filthy things that made me hot and sometimes made me laugh.
It was so quiet, all we could hear was each other’s slightly shallow breathing.
Cool air hit my backside and between my thighs as Callan pulled the formfitting dress up. He kept going until it got stuck on my boobs. I reached down to help, gripping the fabric and pulling it up and over my head.
It lay discarded at my feet as Callan took me in, standing between his legs in nothing but my bra and knickers and high heels.
I kicked off the heels, and his hands settled on my waist.
“I remember the first day I saw you.” Callan suddenly broke the silence. As he spoke, he stroked and squeezed my waist and hips and stomach as if he couldn’t not touch me. “I thought you were the most stunning girl I’d ever met.”
I stiffened in surprise at the confession but then whispered, “I thought you were the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen.”
He let out a little huff of amusement, like he didn’t know what to do with being called beautiful.
I waited for him to say more.
Instead, he curled his fingers in my knickers and drew them down until they fluttered to the floor and I stepped out of them.Then he tugged me toward him, guiding me to sit on his lap, my legs spread over him. Callan halted me as I hovered above him but only to grip his cock in hand and bring it between my legs. As soon as I felt him throbbing and hard, nudging into me for relief, I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance. And then I pushed down.
“Captain,” I gasped quietly, arching my back as he filled me. So thick. So overwhelming. It wasn’t something I’d gotten used to yet and honestly, I hoped I never would.
“Fuck, yes.” Callan’s hands slid up and down my back as I took a second to adjust.
My knees settled on either side of his thighs and then I pushed up slowly, moaning at the drag of his cock against my tight inner muscles. All the while, I held Callan’s gaze. His teeth gritted with the sensation, and he grunted with pleasure as I lowered over him.
His fingers plucked at my bra strap, and it fell away from my breasts. He impatiently removed it, banded his arms tight around me so I couldn’t move over him, and then covered my right nipple with his mouth.
Shivers cascaded down my spine as pleasure bolted between my legs.
