“I’ve got you,” he growled against my lips. “I’m right here.”
Cal placed kisses down my body, trailing from my neck down to my waist. His lips lingered, making sure to kiss every bruise, cut, and scrape left from the aftermath of the cage match. It wasn’t about sex yet; it was about worship. It was about putting me back together.
“Are you sore?” he murmured against a particularly dark bruise on my ribs. “From your match.”
I nodded, my breath hitching as his stubble grazed my skin. “I’m okay though. I don’t think I expected to be as sore as I am honestly. Guess we aren’t as young as we used to be.”
Cal smirked against my skin, the vibration buzzing through me. “Think I can fix that.”
He nudged my legs apart, settling between my thighs. We hadn’t bothered putting clothes on last night, and right now I was thankful for it. The skin on skin contact was electric, grounding me to the mattress, to him.
Cal took quick notice of my cock starting to twitch just from that sensation alone. He hummed, a low sound of approval.
“You know something you don’t let me do nearly enough?” Cal said. He planted a wet, openmouthed kiss on my inner thigh, his hand snaking up to wrap around my cock. He began to lazily stroke it, his thumb dragging over the head, spreading the precum that was already leaking.
I whimpered, the sensation of his rough, calloused hand being so gentle was sensory overload in the best fucking way possible. “What?”
“Suck your cock,” he said, his voice dropping to a filthy growl.
I shuddered on the words. “I didn’t know you liked to.”
Cal raised an eyebrow, looking up at me from between my legs. “You really didn’t think I liked it?”
I shrugged helplessly, his stroking getting more intense, creating a friction that made my hips buck involuntarily.
“No—I just—figured you felt like it was my job to do that to you—” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.
Cal’s hand stopped. He looked genuinely offended. “You mean to tell me the reason you haven’t mentioned me sucking your dick or telling me you wanted it is because you thought I had some stupid connotation that because I top I don’t want to do that?”
Embarrassment took over and my cheeks flushed a bright red. Now that he said it out loud, it did sound absolutely stupid. Jesus, had I really deprived myself of Cal blowing me because I didn’t think he was into it?
“You have no fucking idea how much I love when you let me do it,” Cal said, his eyes darkening. “Or how often I think about it.”
“Tell me,” I demanded, throwing the line he always used on me back at him. “Tell me how you think about it.”
Cal leaned forward, his breath hot on my stomach. “I think about choking on you,” he whispered, the words explicit and dirty. “I think about how you taste after a match, I think about looking up and seeing you unravel while I take every inch of you down my throat. I want to feel you hit the back of my throat, Si. I want to be used by you.”
The admission stunned me. It was a sliver of submission from the man who was always in control, always the heavy anchor.
“Fuck—” I shuddered, more fluid leaking from the tip of my cock.
Cal made a low, vibrating groan at the sight of it. He pressed his thumb to my slit, swirling the slickness, and the sensation made my eyes roll back in my head.
“You want me to do all those things, don’t you baby?” Cal said low, as he started to kiss up the underside of my shaft, his tongue flat and wet.
“Please—please,” I choked out, my hands gripping the sheets.
“Please what? Tell me what you want to do to me, Si.”
The embarrassment built inside of me, heat rising in my chest. I was never the one to be this vocal, to take this kind of control, but Cal was changing that right now. He was giving me permission to be selfish.
“I—I want to—face fuck you—” The words left my mouth breathless and a bit uncertain, foreign on my tongue.
Cal didn’t hesitate. He looked up at me with eyes that were black with lust.
“Then do it,” he growled. “Fuck my face, baby.”
Hedidn’t wait. He lowered his head and swallowed me whole.
