He buried himself to the hilt, grabbing my hips to hold me in place. He poured himself into me, filling me up deep inside. He held himself there, throbbing, making sure I took every drop. It felt possessive. It felt permanent.
He collapsed on top of me, crushing me into the mattress, panting against my neck, both of us slick with sweat and fluids.
Thesilence that followed was heavy, but it wasn’t the silence of distance. It was the silence of peace.
After a long moment, Cal shifted. He didn’t pull away coldly. He kissed my forehead, then my cheek.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice returning to that soft, gentle tone that wrecked me.
He got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm, damp towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned me up. He wiped the cum off my stomach, gentle and thorough. He wiped my thighs. He treated me like something precious, checking in with every touch.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing hair out of my eyes. “Too rough?”
“Perfect,” I whispered, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”
We woke up tangled together. The sun was streaming in.
Cal was holding me, his arm heavy over my waist, his nose buried in my hair. I shifted, wincing at the soreness that radiated through my entire body. It felt like I’d been split in two.
“You okay?” Cal asked softly, his hand rubbing my hip.
“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” I groaned, but I was smiling.
Cal chuckled, the sound vibrating against my back. “Good. That means I did my job.”
We showered together. Cal washed my back with a soft cloth, careful of my shoulder scars. He washed my hair. We stood under the spray, chests pressed together, just breathing each other in.
When I got dressed, I pulled his hoodie out of my bag. I put it on. It was still a bit oversized, the sleeves covering my hands, smelling faintly of the detergent I used back home.
Cal watched me pull it on, his eyes darkening instantly. He was still in his towel, water dripping down his chest.
“God,” Cal breathed, walking over to me. “You look so fucking sexy in that.”
He ran his hands down my arms, gripping my biceps through the fabric. “Seeing you walking around in my clothes… knowing I’m the reason you’re sore? It makes me want to rip it off and do it again.”
“Cal, we have lobby call in ten minutes,” I laughed, though my face heated up. “And I can barely walk as it is.”
“I know,” Cal smirked, his gaze dropping to the bulge in my jeans. “But you were so good for me last night. Taking it like that. You deserve a reward.”
He dropped to his knees.
My breath hitched. “Cal? What are you—”
He didn’t speak. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and tugged them down along with my boxers, freeing me.
“Consider this a reward,” he murmured, looking up at me through his lashes.
He took me into his mouth.
It was soft, wet, and worshipping. He swirled his tongue around the head, looking up at me the whole time. It wasn’t the rough degradation of yesterday; it was praise. He sucked me gently, humming against me, his hands squeezing my ass through the hoodie.
“Cal,” I gasped, gripping his shoulders, my knees trembling. “We have to go.”
He didn’t stop. He tightened his lips, taking me deeper, picking up the pace just enough to make my hips buck involuntarily. The suction was incredible, warm and rhythmic.
“Cal, I’m close,” I warned, my voice cracking. “I’m gonna—”
He didn’t pull away. He went harder. He bobbed his head faster, taking me to the back of his throat, demanding it.
