When I snap back down onto the bed, my mouth is open, trying to catch my breath.
Callum strokes my hair back and smiles at me. “You look beautiful when you come.”
I’m lost for words. Even when he has me breaking in mere minutes, he is gentle and sweet. I lay still as he grabs the strip and tears off a condom. I'd offer to help but I’m still reeling from the aftershocks of that orgasm. It’s only the second I’ve ever had with a man. Something tells me it won’t be the last.
Callum settles between my legs, our hips pressing together, his chest against mine. He cups my face and kisses me deeply, pouring everything into it, then one hand slides down my body as he grips his cock, holding it steady, stroking it up and down my pussy, nudging at my clit, then he lets go and pushes inside.
My instant response is to squeeze, and he grits his teeth, pushing further and further until I’m so full it feels like heaven and the relief at having something inside makes me clutch his shoulders and encourage him to move.
He makes a few tentative thrusts until I open my eyes to tell him he doesn’t need to be so gentle but he is grinning at me when I do and before I can ask why he thrusts even further into me, pushing me up the bed. My breath, my brain, my heart, it’s all gone with that one push.
All I can do is hold on to his hips as he moves, the drag and push of him inside of me driving me into a frenzy.
He slows down again and kisses my breasts, my shoulder and then my mouth as he rams in hard. The slow and fast of it is making me insane.
“I knew you would feel like this,” he says.
“Like what?”
“Perfect, wrapped so tight around my cock, I can barely fucking hold back.”
“Don’t.”
“Be careful what you wish for Charley.”
“I won’t break. At least not in a bad way.”
He lets out a laugh. “Is that a challenge?”
For the first time in a long time I feel bold, asking for something I really want has never come easy, because I’ve always been denied, or made to feel stupid for asking. Callum isn’t like that.
“Fuck me,” I grip him at his nape, my nails scratching through his hair.
He lifts my thigh and wraps it over his hip and back, my foot presses against his ass as he moves faster, his hips rising and falling instead of pushing in and out. It somehow makes him go deeper and hits a spot inside of me that makes my vision blur.
“Yes,” he groans. “That’s it, fucking hell Charley. Fuck.”
He moves faster and I grip him harder with my thighs and arms, tilting my head back on the pillow. He bites my neck and thrusts faster, groaning loudly as his dick pulses inside of me.
“Oh yes, yes. Fuck!” I cry out as my whole body shatters, a million times more powerful than the first time. I’ve never sworn out loud like this during sex either. I barely recognize myself.
He is talking, telling me how good I feel, how he wants to fuck me over an over until we both break. It’s like a dream voice, breaking through the ecstasy.
His forehead drops onto my shoulder as I lower my head. His weight is on me but not fully, he is keeping himself from crushing me. For a moment we stay like that, our gasping breaths the only noise in the room.
He lifts his head and looks at me. “Are you okay?”
All I can do is nod. He holds my chin and kisses me, rolling his tongue with mine, and he groans when I squeeze my walls around him, unintentionally, he is just that good of a kisser.
“That was amazing,” he says, as he lifts up slightly. “Wish I could stay cocooned in here forever.”
But we can’t. And he eventually pulls out and flops onto his back beside me. My eyes roam his body, taking it in for the first time, the golden tan, the ridges, his tattoos, a couple of scars on his abdomen. My brow furrows at one that looks like a small circle.
He sees me looking and rolls up, taking off the condom. “We’re not going to discuss that right now,” he gets to his feet and walks around the bed. “Come on,” he holds out a hand.
“Where are we going?”
“Bathroom. You have to take care of yourself after sex.”
