Page 515 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

He laughs short under his breath, sliding his hands under my thighs, and he lifts me until my feet find the edges of his seat on either side of his hips. He grabs the back of my neck in one hand,

my jaw in the other,

yanking me to his mouth to shut me up.

Then he slams inside me,

crushing me against him,

burying himself so deep

the warmth splashes over my bones.

It rips a shudder through us, violent,

and it splits him in two.

One part of him turns feral,

his hand clamping down on my ass,

grinding my clit against his pelvis,

fucking into me so hard,

black spots my vision.

The other part is gentle⁠—

palm at the back of my head,

fingers tangled in my hair,

holding me steady,

kissing me slow and filthy.

“Holy fuck…” He nails me down and rolls his hips into me. “Shit,” he groans, rhythm catching. “Baby, you’re about to come.”

“No, I’m not,” I try to get out.

When he pulls back,

he looks undone and gorgeous⁠—

eyes half-lidded, lashes wet, hair damp,

sweat dripping down his temple,

his throat,

his breath breaking through his nose.

“Yes, you are,” he rasps. “I can fuckin’ feel it.” His eyes cling to mine, dark and devouring, as if I’m not allowed to look anywhere else while he ruins me. “You’re right there, Allison. Right fuckin’ there.” His moan shakes in his throat with every stroke.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t let me go yet.”

“Andrew—”