"Color."
"Green." It comes out strangled. "Green, don't stop, please don't stop."
He doesn't stop. He fucks me with deep, measured strokes that hit something devastating inside me with every thrust. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, holding me exactly where he wants me.
"You feel incredible." His voice is ragged now, the control starting to crack. "So tight. So hot. Like you were made to take my cock."
I can't respond. Can only moan and push back against him, chasing the pressure building low in my belly.
"You want to come?"
"Yes. God, yes."
"Then ask nicely."
"Please let me come, sir. Please, I need it, I can't..."
"Not yet." He pulls almost all the way out, leaving just the tip inside. "Not until I feel you fall apart around me."
He slams back in and I scream. The blindfold is soaked with tears I didn't realize I was crying. My wrists strain against the rope, searching for something to hold onto.
"Now, Nadia." His hand snakes around to find my clit, circling with devastating precision. "Come for me now."
The orgasm isn't a wave. It's a detonation.
I shatter into a million pieces, clenching around his cock so hard he groans and follows me over the edge. I feel him pulse inside me, hot and deep, his hips jerking through his own release while mine keeps crashing and crashing and refusing to end.
Time stops meaning anything.
When I come back to myself, the blindfold is gone and Callum is holding me in the bed, stroking my hair while I shake against his chest.
"That was..." I can't find words. Every part of my body feels like it belongs to someone else.
"Intense." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "You did beautifully."
"I don't think I can move."
"You don't have to move. Not for a long time." His arms tighten around me. "Just stay here. Let me take care of you."
I close my eyes and let the aftershocks roll through me. His heartbeat is steady under my cheek. Solid. Real.
"Callum?"
"Hmm?"
"This doesn't feel fake anymore."
He's quiet for a moment. Then his hand finds mine and their fingers intertwine.
"No," he says finally. "It doesn't."
We don't talk about what that means. We don't make promises or define terms or do any of the sensible things two people with an expiration date on their arrangement are supposed to do.
We just hold each other while the snow falls outside, and pretend that tomorrow isn't coming.
CHAPTER SIX
CALLUM
