“Oh god!” I screamed, my hips snapping forward off the mattress.
It was feral. Cal wasn’t being gentle anymore; he was ravenous. His mouth was hot and incredibly wet, his tongue swirling around the head of my cock before he bobbed his head down, taking me deep. The sound was obscene, wet, sloppy suction that echoed in the quiet room.
He wrapped one hand around the base, pumping in time with his mouth, while his other hand grabbed my hip, anchoring me in place.
I lost my mind. The sight of him, Callum Kincaid, the Heavyweight Champion, the man who had just pulled me out of a panic attack, between my thighs, destroying himself on my cock, was too much.
“Cal, fuck,” I groaned, watching his cheeks hollow out as he sucked.
He pulled off with a wet pop, drool stringing between his lips and my cock. He looked wrecked, his eyes watering, his face flushed red. He coughed, gagging slightly, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.
“You’re so big,” Cal rasped, looking at my erection with genuine awe.
Hearing him praise me, seeing him struggle to take me, stroked an ego I didn’t know I had.
“Take it,” I panted, my hands finding his hair, gripping tight. “Take all of it.”
Cal moaned and dove back down. This time, I didn’t just lie there. I pushed into his mouth, finding a rhythm. I thrust my hips, sliding in and out of his wet heat, fucking his face just like I said I wanted to.
Cal groaned around me, the vibration traveling straight to my groin. He didn’t pull back. He pushed against me, meeting every thrust, taking me deeper than I thought possible. Saliva and precum coated my length, making a mess of his chin, dripping onto his hand.
Pressure built at my entrance. Cal’s finger pressed against my rim, slick with spit.
“Cal!” I gasped.
He pushed his finger inside, curling it immediately to hit my prostate.
Thecombination of his mouth suctioning the head of my cock, the friction of his hand, and that finger hitting my sweet spot sent white-hot lightning through my nerves.
“I’m gonna—Cal, I’m gonna—”
He sensed it. He clamped his lips down tighter, sucking harder, swirling his tongue while his finger pumped inside me in a cruel, perfect rhythm. He was edging me, dragging out the pleasure until it bordered on pain.
I snapped. My hips bucked wildly, driving deep into his throat one last time.
“Fuck!” I screamed, grabbing his hair, holding him there as I unraveled.
I came hard, pulse after pulse firing into his mouth. Cal didn’t pull away. He took it all, moaning through the inundation, swallowing what he could, but there was so much it spilled out of the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin and neck.
I collapsed back onto the pillows, my entire body trembling, my chest heaving as I tried to remember how to breathe.
Cal slowly pulled back. He made an obscene, wet popping sound as he released me. He sat back on his heels, looking absolutely destroyed. His hair was a mess, his lips were swollen and red, and his chin was coated in spit and cum. His eyes were hazy, blown wide.
“You thought I felt bigger?” he panted, breathless, wiping his mouth with a stray towel left on the bed. “Jesus, Si. I don’t remember giving you head being that… intense.”
I stared at him, my heart still racing, feeling lighter than I had in years. The panic was a distant memory, replaced by this raw, messy, beautiful reality.
“I think you sucked my soul out of my fucking body,” I said, my voice trembling.
Cal laughed, a rough, satisfied sound. “Please, let me do it more.”
I reached out, running my thumb over his wet, swollen lip.
“Anytime you want,” I whispered, smiling. “Anytime.”
25
APRIL - ORLANDO, FLORIDA
