Page 236 of Let Me In

He holds me down.

“Give it to me,” he demands, voice thick against my skin. “Right now. Come again. Right now, baby.”

And I do.

This one hits like a punch—sudden and shattering, body spasming, vision flashing white. I scream—raw and high—and he groans, like my release feeds something primal inside him.

He licks through it. Draws it out. Only slowing when I’m twitching, spent, completely broken open for him.

He lifts his head slowly.

His chin is wet. His breath ragged.

“You feel that?” he pants, rubbing slow circles into my thigh. “That’s what it means to be mine.”

And I do.

Every inch of me feels like his now.

He doesn’t leave me. Not even for a breath. In seconds, he has me pushed back against the pillows. He’s over me, around me. He settles his weight, bracing his arms on either side of my shoulders, like I’m something he just won—but can’t let go of yet.

His lips brush my cheek, the corner of my mouth, my jaw.

“You okay, baby?”

I nod. Still panting. Barely able to speak.

He kisses the tip of my nose.

Then my eyelids.

Then the soft line of my throat.

“You took that so fucking well,” he murmurs. “Daddy’s so proud of you.”

My chest tightens at the praise. I melt into it, letting myself feel the weight of it.

One hand strokes gently up my side, thumb brushing the curve of my breast.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “I’ll never stop taking care of you. You never have to hold anything back. Not with me.”

And then—

I reach for him.

My hand trails down, past his abdomen, and finds him still hard. Thick and straining against the front of his jeans.

That’s all it takes.

Cal snaps.

He groans low, grabs my wrist—not to stop me, but to anchor himself—and then he’s moving. Fast. Urgent.

“Hands above your head,” he commands, voice torn and dark. “Now.”

I obey, trembling.

“Keep them there.”

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