Page 12 of Spooking the Mountain Man
"Beautiful," Callum murmurs, working me through the aftershocks with gentle strokes. "So beautiful when you come for me. Did so well, baby."
I'm still catching my breath when I hear the rustle of fabric. I open my eyes to see Callum pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a chest and arms corded with muscle from years ofphysical labor. There are scars scattered across his skin, each one a story.
"Your turn," I say, reaching for the button of his jeans, but Callum catches my hands gently.
"Not yet," he says. "This is about you tonight. About making you feel safe and taken care of."
"But I want to make you feel good too—"
"You are making me feel good." Callum brings my hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Watching you come apart, hearing those sweet sounds you make, knowing you trust me enough to let go? That makes me feel incredible, sweetheart."
"But—"
"No buts." His voice drops to that commanding tone that makes my stomach flutter. "You're going to let me take care of you. You need this, baby. Need someone to make the decisions, to tell you it's okay to just feel."
The words resonate deep in my chest. This is what I've been craving – someone who knows what I need better than I do, someone who will take control when I'm too overwhelmed to think straight.
"Good girl," Callum says, watching the realization dawn on my face. "My perfect girl. Now, I'm going to taste you."
He settles between my legs, and when I realize what he's planning to do, I instinctively try to close them.
"Callum, you don't have to—"
"Open your legs," he says, and it's definitely a command now. His hands on my thighs are gentle but firm. "Let me taste my girl."
The authority in his voice makes me obey without thinking, and Callum makes a sound of approval deep in his throat.
"That's better. Keep them open for me, baby."
The first touch of his tongue against my most sensitive spot makes me cry out, my hands fisting in the sheets. Callum licksand sucks with methodical precision, like he's determined to learn exactly what makes me fall apart.
"Please," I gasp, not even sure what I'm begging for.
"Please what?" Callum asks against my skin, his breath making me shiver. "Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you need."
"Please don't stop," I manage. "Please make me come again."
"Since you asked so nicely." I can hear the smile in his voice. "Because you're being such a good girl."
He redoubles his efforts, adding his fingers back into the mix, and the combination is overwhelming. The pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter in my belly.
"That's it, baby," Callum encourages, his voice rough. "Let go for me. Come for Daddy."
The word sends a shock through my system. Daddy. Something about it feels right, natural, like a key turning in a lock I didn't know existed.
"Say it," Callum demands, curling his fingers and sucking hard on my clit. "Tell Daddy what you need."
"Please, Daddy," the words tumble out before I can think. "Please make me come. Need it so bad, Daddy, please—"
I come apart completely, screaming his name—or is it Daddy?—as my body convulses with pleasure. It's even more intense than the first time, making me arch clean off the bed as wave after wave crashes over me.
Callum works me through it gently, pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs, murmuring "good girl, such a good girl for Daddy" as I shake and tremble. Then he moves up my body to gather me against his chest. I'm boneless, floating, completely wrung out in the best possible way.
"How do you feel?" he asks, pressing a kiss to my temple while his hand strokes soothing patterns on my back.
"Amazing," I whisper. Then, testing the word on my tongue: "Daddy."
His arms tighten around me. "Say it again."
