Over Caleb.
At the moment, it was he who had the power over me, his hands softly wandering over my vest top, over warm flesh hidden by the fleecy blanket. His hands grew braver, skimming over my breasts, grazing over my nipples that had peaked and down over my stomach, under the waistband of my sweatpants, his hand steadying on top of my underwear.
“Is this enough?” His words hummed against my ear. On the TV, Baby danced with Johnny, their evening as sultry as ours.
“It feels good.” I turned my head so he could kiss me, his hands becoming more confident, pinching my nipples over my vest and the other dipping into my underwear, smooth, quick movements that teased and offered me a chance to stop if I wanted.
I didn’t want.
“I want to take your sweats off. Then I’m going to make you come on my hand.” He used both hands to push down the waistband of my sweats and underwear. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Do you want me to make you come?” He kissed my neck. “Do you want me to make you soaking wet?”
I raised my hips, kicking my sweats down my legs and off my feet along with the underwear. He cupped my breasts with his hands, toying with my nipples. “I’m already soaking wet. Is that normal?”
“It’s good. It means things feel right.” His pulled my vest top up over my breasts and for the first time touched them with no material in between. My hips shifted as one of his hands moved downwards, over my stomach to between my legs.
“Is this feeling good, Zoey?”
“It feels great. I feel very selfish though. You’re doing all the work.”
“This isn’t work, Zo. This is the best thing ever.” He slid a finger to my centre, finding the wetness there, sliding it up onto my clit and using a second finger to start small circles over it, his other hand still playing with my breasts. “How does it feel? Harder or softer, quicker or slower?”
“Harder.” It came out as a moan. “It feels good.”
“It’s meant to.” He slipped a finger down again, pushing it inside of me slowly. “How’s that?”
“Good.” I was nearly there, about to come from someone else for the first time.
“You’re really fucking tight. You’re going to feel amazing around my dick.” He went back to my clit, his fingers wetter, the emptiness from them leaving inside me compensated with what he started doing again to my clit. Circles and pinches making my legs spread wider for him and there was no question around it, I wanted the rest tonight.
I came viciously, my whole body shaking, my legs tensing, Caleb whispering dirty words about how wet I was, or how pretty I looked when he made me come.
He held me afterwards, his hands still touching my tits, not quite letting up.
“We can stop or go upstairs to my room. I really want to suck on these.” He squeezed my breasts again, making the heat between my legs flare once more.
“Go to your room. We can watch the rest tomorrow night.” I sat up, the blanket falling to my waist, and reached for the remote control. I saw Caleb looking at my tits and didn’t flinch. Enough people had seen me naked for me not to have any hang ups, but this was the first time it hadn’t been in a dressing room, or a photographer’s studio.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” His eyes were deep and dark, fixed on my tits.
“You always tell me I’m pretty.” He did. He’d never been shy of complimenting me.
“This is more than pretty.”
I wrapped the blanket over me and stood up, not quite sure I was ready for complete bareness in front of him.
Caleb stood up, his sweatpants doing nothing to conceal his erection. I let myself stare at it, aware of his smirk.
“Don’t think I’m done making you wet, Zo. But I think we should find a bed.” He grabbed me in a hug, pulling the blanket away and then scooping me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. “Ready?”
“I’m ready.”
He almost ran up the stairs, both of us laughing, Caleb looking his fill and me fighting myself not to hide.
He liked what he saw, he was making no secret of that and I realised why he’d already had so many lovers. He was gorgeous and his body was like that of a young Greek god, already sculpted and hard, but without the sheen of a model or a dancer. I placed my palm on his chest, feeling the heat from his skin, understanding why he couldn’t stop looking at me because I felt like that about him, and then I was on my back on his bed, naked under him while he was still fully clothed. I should’ve felt vulnerable, but it was the opposite because I understood the other reason he was so attractive. He was safe. He would do anything in his power to protect me, even from himself.
