Page 239 of Let Me In

“Fuck,” he groans. “You see that? That’s mine. All of that’s mine.”

Then he thrusts up.

Hard.

My hands slam into his chest with a gasped moan, and he grins like a wolf under me. Feral, and totally gone.

“I want to watch you ride it,” he grits. “But I’m not letting you do the work.”

He grabs my hips, plants his feet, and fucks up into me.

Deep. Sharp. Relentless.

I fall forward, hands braced on either side of his head as he pounds up from beneath me, his cock driving deeper now, swollen and already hard again.

“Still so tight,” he pants. “Still so fucking sweet. You gonna come for me again, little one?”

I whimper, nodding.

“You always do. You always give it to Daddy.”

His hands lift me—slam me back down.

And again.

His cum slickens everything, makes each stroke messier, wetter, hotter.

And when he feels my walls start to flutter again, when I gasp and clench and cry out his name—

He grits his teeth and keeps going.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Don’t stop, Cal—please—”

“I won’t,” he vows, voice shaking. “Not until you come again. Not until I feel it all over me.”

He doesn’t stop.

My body trembles above him, legs shaking, hands braced on his chest—but Cal keeps driving up into me with brutal, focused rhythm.

“Good girl,” he grits. “Taking it so fucking well. Look at you—wrecked and dripping and still giving me everything.”

His hands slide up my sides, rough and reverent, until one comes to rest gently at the base of my throat.

He doesn’t squeeze.

Doesn’t push.

He just holds it.

A touch of ownership.

A warning.

A promise.

His thumb brushes the hollow where my pulse hammers.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, gaze locked on mine. “That’s what I do to you.”

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