Page 155 of Callan

A pause ensues as I tilt my hips, and he grabs the root of his erection and pushes the chiseled head against my center.

I love this moment so much.

I loved it last night, too.

Because there is nothing that I can do about it.

This is when all fears die, and I submit to him.

Trusting someone is a rare occurrence for me.

Instinctively, I don’t trust anyone, and even if I do, I add a healthy dose of skepticism to it.

It’s better that way.

I don’t get easily let down.

But here is more than that.

More than trusting him.

It’s living dangerously while being safe, and I enjoy every second of it.

He moves his fingers down, drawing a line from my chest to my sex.

He pushes his forefinger between my folds and crushes my clit before massaging it, the hard tip of his erection stretching me.

A third of his hard length is in while he’s nuzzling my shoulder, licking my earlobe, and teasing the nerve endings in my skin.

He moves his free arm and grabs my shackled wrists, his chest lining my back, his hardness moving harshly between my walls.

Layers upon layers of growing tension swirl through me, and my hips rock on their own accord.

My back curving.

My chest tightening.

He slides in all the way, filling me up and making me panic while holding me tight against him.

The ropes of tension coil around my body, squeezing me harder while he rocks his hips.

Who knew I’d like this so much?

Rebellion zips through me, making me fight my shackles while moving in perfect synch with him.

It takes him a meager effort to block my efforts and end my fight, quickly showing me I don’t stand a chance.

He plunges into me, breathing fire over my shoulder, while I slide away, going up and up and up.

The first time, I come quickly, breathing unevenly and moaning quietly.

The second time, he pulls me under him, opens my legs, and enters me again.I’m a bit dazed and drunk, my lips tilted into a weird smile.

His chest presses into my back while he rolls his hips, his hard shaft thrusting into my body.

By now, I’m a wet mess, still throbbing, not ready for another high, while he, on the other hand, is glaringly aroused, his pleasure spiking.

My inner thighs must be red from the friction as I feel the sting in my skin.

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