She’s teasing me, dragging out every second as she sinks down onto me, gripping me tight. A guttural moan tears from my throat as I’m consumed by her, my fingers digging into the softflesh of her hips.
She begins to move in a slow, sensual rhythm that’s both torturous and divine. Her hands splay across my chest as she rises and falls, taking me deeper with each downward motion. I’m lost in the sight of her above me, a goddess in her own right.
“Bree,” I groan, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You feel so fucking perfect.”
A smile plays at the corners of her lips. She knows the effect she has on me and the power she wields right now. And god, does she wield it well.
Her pace quickens, hips rolling and circling, driving me closer to the edge with every stroke. The tension coils tighter in my core, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.
“That’s a good fucking girl. Taking my cock like it was made for you.”
Her eyes fly open, a raging inferno of need beneath them. This sweet lass has a thing for praise, it seems.
My hands map every curve and dip of her body, committing it all to memory. I want to savor every second of this, every gasp and moan that falls from her lips. She’s a vision above me, her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, her eyes half lidded with pleasure.
“Callan,” she pants, her nails digging into my skin. “I’m close.”
Those words spur me into action. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her flush against me. The change in angle draws a sharp cry from her throat, her head falling back in ecstasy.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my lips skimming the sensitive skin there. “You’ve got me so deep, love. Take what you need. Use me.”
Her back arches, pushing her perky tits forward. I can’t resist leaning down to capture a nipple between my lips, sucking and teasing with my tongue.
She whimpers, her rhythm faltering, and with a breathless cry, she shatters in my arms, clenching around me like a vise. The sensation is almost too much and threatens to pull me over the edge with her.
I hold her tight as she rides out the waves of her release, whispering praises into her skin. “That’s it, love. You’re so beautiful like this.”
She locks eyes with me, pure ecstasy written across her face, and whatever restraint I had left shatters. There’s no holding back. Not when she looks at me like that. With one final thrust, I spill myself inside her, my release hitting me like a tidal wave. I bury my face in her neck, muffling my groans against her sweat-slicked skin as the aftershocks course through me. Bree clings to me, her body still trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
For a long moment, we stay tangled together in a way that feels too perfect. Her body presses against mine, warm and soft, and I swear, I could stay here forever, just breathing her in.
Then slowly, almost reluctantly, Bree lifts her head from my shoulder. Her eyes find mine, and for a heartbeat, everything goes still. She’s stripped bare before me, but it’s not just her body. It’s her heart. And that takes my breath away.
She’s trusting me. Completely. And the importance of that settles with a fierce protective instinct. Her trust is a precious gift, and I vow that I’llneverbetray it.
Her fingers trail lightly over my chest, and I lift a hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my thumb brushing the curve of her jaw.
“You okay?”
She nods, but the look in her eyes says more than words ever could. This isn’t about what just happened. It’s about us. What we are. What we could be.
I cup her face, letting my forehead rest against hers. “I’ve got you, Bree,” I whisper.
Gently, I shift us, guiding her down until we’re lying side by side, limbs tangled in the sheets. Bree moves with me easily, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
After a minute, she props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in waves around her face. She looks down at me with a shy smile. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I study her, trying to catch a glimpse of the thoughts swirling behind her eyes. “For what, love?”
She hesitates for just a second before answering, her voice barely above a whisper. “For this.” She pauses, then adds with a softness that makes my heart ache, “For knowing what I needed, even when I didn’t.”
And just like that, I’m gone.
That one sentence hits harder than anything. Cracks right through the steel trap I keep bolted around my feelings.
She’s right. Ididknow. And it’s not because I’m some emotionally intuitive saint. I’m not. Hell, I’m probably the last guy anyone expects to be composed, or patient, or tuned in.
But I’ve been paying attention. Every single day.
