Page 86 of Goode Tidings

"Is this ok?" he asks, breaking our kiss to look down between us. Fully clothed. Nothing to see, but also, everything. "Is this enough?"

Is he asking if this is enough to make me climax? Or if what we're doing is enough for me right now?

He rolls me up against him one more time while he waits for my answer.

My blood burns hotter. "I need⁠—"

"Understood," he rasps. "I'll give you what you need."

He stands, carrying me along with him to the wall behind us. He sets me on shaky feet, capturing my mouth again. "Been dreaming about peeling these jeans off you," he says against my mouth as he works the button, then the zipper. "But I'll settle for watching my hand disappear inside them."

I moan into his mouth when his fingers slip over me. He lifts one of my legs, wrapping it around his thigh and holding it there. My hands slide over every inch of his bare skin, and when the work of his hand becomes too much, too good, my touch digs into his shoulders.

"Eyes on me," he says, rough.

I do as he says, our brown eyes locked together as he watches the pleasure wrack my body. His touch lingers, slowing as he brings me down gently, then stays when he leans in to kiss me. The kiss lengthens, the heel of his palm moving in the slowest circle.

"One more from you, Eden."

"I-I can't. I've never⁠—"

"Let's give it a shot."

"Ok," I whisper.

He ducks his head, kissing my neck, my shoulders, the skin above my tank top. The pace of his palm steadily increases, and then— Oh.

"Callum." His name is strangled, the word competing with my second high.

He nods his head, watching as it moves through me.

I land back down on earth, my legs noodles that are somehow still holding me upright. Chest heaving, I reach for his jeans. "Let me⁠—"

He shakes his head. "No need."

"But I want to⁠—"

One side of his mouth turns up in a shy smile. "You aren't the only one who just did something they've never done before."

My brain is lazy and sated, trudging through what Callum means before it snaps into place. "Oh. Ohh." A warm wisp of delight curls over me. I love that he responded to me so helplessly.

"Yeah." He nods. "Watching you was all I needed."

He finally withdraws his hand from my jeans. My lips purse as I look at him. It's Callum. And somehow, that's ok. Far better than ok. It feels right.

"What?" he murmurs, zipping up my jeans and threading the button.

I smile. I am deliriously happy right now. "Hot Squat finger fucked me."

He breathes out a chuckle. "That," he says, dropping a slow kiss on the top of my head, "is what I mean when I say you do not have a filter."

Laughing, I reach up and run a hand through his newly cut hair. Tiny pieces rain down on his shoulders.

The high I'm riding on is still going strong. "I bet you would like a shower. For more reasons than one."

He narrows his eyes playfully. "No filter."

I go up on tiptoe, brushing a kiss over his mouth. Why does this seem natural? Should it feel this easy with him?