Page 190 of Callan

Our lips briefly tear away from each other while my pants slide down, and I step out of them.

We’re still in front of the patio doors, barely lit by the lighting behind us, when he slides his fingers inside the straps of my panties and pulls them down.

The second I straighten is the second I stand in front of him naked with only my heels on.

He takes my hand, steps back, and studies my body with a wolfish smile as if I’m the highlight of his evening.

The best dish on the menu.

When our eyes meet again, my insides flutter from the intensity of his stare.

He comes to me with a blazing need to crush me against his chest, his arms winding around me, his hands threading through my hair. His mouth claims mine as I get wet between my thighs, and my nipples poke at the smooth fabric of his suit jacket.

He runs his hand down my back before grabbing my butt cheeks and sinking his teeth into my lip with fervor.

A crying sound crawls up my chest, and he laughs against my lips.

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” he says, shedding his jacket and tossing it onto the only chair in the room before clutching my hand and walking me to the bed.

His free hand already undoes his buckle and unzips his fly.

“On all fours, baby. And leave your heels on.”

Fingers of heat grab at my face while my gaze instinctively moves to the view outside.

Although I doubt anyone’s watching with a long-range lens, I can’t say I’m not a little shy about the wall of windows giving a perfect view of us.

“Don’t worry about the windows. No one’s looking at us,” he says, opening his shirt and peeling it off.

He tilts his chin to the bed while reaching inside his pants and running his hand down my back, nudging me to do what I’ve been told.

“This is better than getting fucked against the wall,” he says before I turn around and slide onto the bed.

“You’re perfect,” he says in a hoarse voice while I peek at him over my shoulder.

His attention is on his hard length as he presses it against my center. His other hand moves to my slit before parting my folds and circling my clit.He slides himself in just as I experience the first soft pulsations.

With me filled up, he slowly circles my clit until my hips begin to slowly rock, meeting his.

“That will do,” he says, a smile in his voice as he rolls his hips, no longer stroking my clit.

Hard, deep moves make my body stiff, the tension only soaring. Holding me against him, he rams into me, feeding his need to feel me wet around his hard flesh.

Forget about the skyscrapers with twinkling eyes rising to the sky not far from us. My thoughts are laser-focused on his erection sliding smoothly into my body.

And nothing else matters.

Not my regular life and not his regular life.

Not celebrating the New Year’s Eve.

Not what’s happened this evening.

Standing next to the bed and thrusting into me, he doesn’t spare my frame. He reaches between my legs and strokes my clit again while pumping into me.

It takes me very little to make it to the highest point as I’ve been on the last leg of my journey for the past few moments, and he fucks me fast, dragging me straight to a satisfying orgasm.

Despite my rocking hips, crying moans, mumbling of his name, and raggedy, clipped breaths, he restrains himself, and while I’m still experiencing bliss, he nudges me around, and my back hits the pillows.

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