I trailed my hands over him, not to touch, but to see his response, memorising each shiver, each stirring of of muscle, each groan, each whisper of my name. There was a desperation to my touch; I needed to hurry, but at the same time, this couldn’t be over.
I didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to leave here.
He was hard beneath my hand, his cock large and throbbing. I continued to explore him, taking off his shorts, t-shirt, underwear and his hands started to find me, finding what he needed.
We became a feast, a banquet for the other to feed on. His mouth found my breasts, sucking and nipping while his fingers rubbed at my clit, spreading the wetness that was there, taking me closer to the edge of orgasm and breaking apart.
I lost track of where we were because it didn’t matter anymore. His fingers teased, pushing the tip slowly inside me, moving deeper, faster, harder as I started to lose control again, Callum working some sort of voodoo magic over my body. His head was clearer than mine, as I had become putty, there for him to manipulate and kneed, turn into something that I wasn’t sure I knew anymore.
He moved me onto my back and pushed my legs open, making room for himself. It wasn’t tender anymore; he wasn’t careful, not treating me like I was porcelain. There was the edge that I crave, the sweet blade of hurt as he pushed into me, stretching me, not giving any time to adjust.
I felt possessed. Callum’s hands clamped on my shoulders, holding me firm and I heard a cry that was animalistic. He didn’t ask if he was hurting me, or if he needed to slow, instead he knew. Another orgasm started to grow, the daze I’d been in broken and the need to take back control grabbed me.
I pulled his head down to mine, taking a kiss that was deep and vicious in its need. His body hovered closer to mine, his thrusts slowing but taking me deeper, as if he had taken over my whole body. My nails dug into his skin, enough pressure given to leave marks later, brand him as having been temporarily mine.
We rolled over, leaving me on top, riding him as if I owned the man. I pushed down on his chest, his hands on me, feeling, but not taking control. He pushed a thumb to my ass his smile becoming knowing.
“Tell me. Have you?” I had no idea how he sounded so calm.
“Maybe.” I hadn’t. Messed about, but never fully gone there.
“Good.”
“This is just one more night, Callum. The last one.”
His eyes darkened, then he flipped us back and fucked me until I was in enough pieces I was sure I could never be put back together and even if I could, I wouldn’t be whole.
He kept a piece for himself.
Callum
This was the first time a member of my family was meeting me at the airport. It wasn’t because they hadn’t wanted to be there, I’d just never told them. Having their attention foisted upon me when I was jetlagged, tired, dirty and fucking unsociable wasn’t my idea of fun; it was a fresh new hell.
Today was different. The flight from Marrakesh was only four hours; they knew when I was getting back and although I actually wanted to see them, Mum more than anyone, I’d arranged it before walking out of arrivals with Wren next to me.
No one was there for her.
I saw Seph, dressed in a designer suit as per usual, his useless glasses perched on his face like a high-end model and then he grinned, reminding me of the little boy he’d been. My baby brother. The one who was now the same height as me and could possibly beat me at deadlifts.
“He’s changed.”
Wren had seen him too.
“Only physically. Mentally he’s still about thirteen.”
She half-elbowed me in the side, impeded with the suitcase she was yanking behind her.
I stopped before Seph noticed us – he’d been grinning, unsurprisingly, at a group of female flight attendants – and nudged Wren over to the side where there was a staff corridor.
Last night had been different. Every time had been different, but last night had been something I didn’t get, not yet. She’d told me it was the last night and now I wasn’t sure it could be.
“Where are you going back to?”
She smiled, putting her bags on the floor and pushing her hair away from her face. The chin-length hair she’d left England with was now longer, thicker.
“My flat. I’ll drop my stuff off and go and see mum. Then I need to phone Carmel at the zoo.”
“You’re starting there?” I was too happy about this.
