Page 145 of Callan

He pauses.

I say nothing.

“Okay,” he says. “The other thing is, I’ll do what the other two men have failed to do for you.”

He slides his hands inside my bathrobe and pushes it off my shoulders.

It hits the floor with a quiet thud.

His hand goes from the root of my neck to my chest and my stomach.

And then my lower stomach.

And then his fingers brush my clit, and my center warms and drips with wetness, soft pulsations racing.

“I alsowon’tfuck you against the wall or bend you over the table. I won’t make you sit on your knees and roll your lips around my dick or pull your hair hard and pound you from behind.”

Every word paints a picture in my head, and every inflection of his voice makes me more impatient.

“But… I will make our first time memorable, yeah?” he says, having one hand between my legs and one cupping my face.

My breaths leave my lungs in a ragged line.

“I’ll make love to you tonight…” he says, watching with satisfaction how I slowly melt. “We won’t be destroying anyfurniture this evening. The only thing we will be destroying is the past so we can replace it with better memories.”

He splays his hand over my temple while I press myself into his touch, slowly closing my eyes, enjoying the pleasure building up.

“That’s my girl,” he says, lowering his hand and wrapping it around my neck while slowly pushing his fingers down my seam and touching the pulsing flesh between my thighs. “You will love this. I promise you,” he says, sliding a finger in.

I gasp, a victim of his touch, the pleasure buying my silence. His middle finger slides in and out, my heat throbbing around his strokes.

“We can put your hand on me…” he says.

I open my eyes while he lowers my hand, andI reach inside his towel.

Plump veins push against my touch, and a deep fire blazes in his eyes while I stroke him.

“Now you know why I didn’t want you to touch me,” he says, enjoying my hand around his hard flesh.

I run my thumb over the chiseled tip, break the drop of wetness, and spread it across his length.

With a body carved from hard muscles, thick tension, blood and flames, and skin tingling beneath my fingertips, he narrows his eyes at me, his smooth, controlled self getting away from him, while a beast of a man starts breathing heavily through his sensual lips.

One long thrust comes through my fist before he pushes out a sigh of pleasure.

“You’ll have every inch of that inside you before we’re doing anything else.”

With a flick of his hand, he removes his towel and asks me to wet his erection.

I lick my fingers and close them around him.

“Now do what you’ve been doing…” he murmurs before crashing his lips onto mine, almost cutting off my oxygen.

My hand goes back and forth without finesse while he opens my lips, and ravishes my mouth.

When I inhale again, the room spins with me, and my legs feel like melted butter.

His lips trail down my neck while his hands squeeze my boobs, pinch my nipples, and play with me as if I belong to him.

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