“Shhhh. I’ve got you, Callie baby. Relax for me.”
I drop my legs open and close my eyes.
“Look at me,” he says in a commanding voice. “I want to look into your eyes while I fuck you with my fingers.”
His finger drives in and out in a smooth rhythm. He promised to take it slow, and he’s proving to be a man of his word. “Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
His finger pulls out, and he adds a second. My pussy clenches around the intrusion. “Deep breath. You’re doing so well.”
“Please,” I whisper.
I don’t know what I’m asking for, I just know I want more. It’s like slow, sweet torture.
In answer, his thumb finds my clit again, and the added pressure steals my breath.
“Yes.” I hiss the word through clenched teeth.
“You’re gripping me so tight.”
I slide one hand into Jaxon’s hair as he nips at my ear. My free hand finds my nipple through my thin cotton shirt.
He chuckles darkly and swats my hand away. “That’s my job.”
Before I have time to protest, Jaxon’s mouth closes around the fabric and pulls my taut nipple into his mouth. The pleasure sends me soaring to new heights as his mouth and hands work in tandem to bring me more pleasure than I ever dreamed of. I thought I knew my body, but Jaxon is pulling all my strings like a puppet master.
My second orgasm builds slowly from the tips of my toes, creeping upwards until my back arches off the couch and blinding pleasure emanates from every part of my body. I cry out some garbled mess of words, but they’re quickly swallowed up by Jaxon’s passionate, invading kiss.
He continues to work me through wave after wave of my climax until it becomes too much.
“Stop. Stop. I can’t take anymore,” I plead through quiet gasps.
Jaxon pulls back and stares into my eyes. I could get lost in those emerald depths and be content to stay there forever. He holds my gaze as his hand slides out of my pants, then he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean. He moans, the sound sending a shiver coursing through me.
I try to move, but my limbs don’t seem to belong to me anymore. Like an anchor in a storm, he shifts onto his back and pulls me half over him until my cheek rests against his chest. His palm skates up and down my arm in a soothing motion.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“Was it too much?”
“Mmm… no.”
He presses his lips against the top of my head. “Rest. I won’t do anything else today.”
I let out a resigned sigh. “Why not?”
“I promised we’d take things slow. Besides, we have a lot to talk about.” His fingertips trace the contours of my face, and he’s looking at me like he can’t believe I’m real. The feeling is mutual. This feels like a dream I never should’ve had. “Tell me why you ghosted me.”
“Because…”
“Tell me.”
“Because it was getting too real. I didn't want to fall for some faceless guy on the internet.”
