“Y-yes,” I cry, my back arching when his fingers play with my clit. The cord of pleasure winds tighter within me, driving me to the brink. Tears mark a messy trail down the sides of my face while I hold onto him, my breasts crushed against his chest. Eager palms chartthe landscape of his firm body, all the way down his spine to the taut curvature of his butt. His hiss shocks me into realizing that I’m clawing at him like an animal, my nails digging into hard muscle.
“That’s it, baby. Mark me as yours,” he grunts, pistoning into me fast and sure. “Squeeze that tight pussy around my cock and take what I’m giving you.”
I’m on the verge of exploding, reduced to babbling Cal’s name in breathy, tormented chants, when his palm rests low on my abdomen. He presses down just as he thrusts in and the fraying thread of reserve holding back my orgasm snaps. I surrender to the wave of pleasure drowning me, my body twisting from the fierceness of my release.
Cal poundsinto me like a man possessed, filling me to the hilt, shuddering as he reaches completion.
With his palm reverently framing my face, his lips stealing my breath and his eyes reflecting everything I feel, he makes me his.
50
ALIA
Ipad across the kitchen, humming softly as I pour steaming water into my mug. All my ancestors are probably rolling over in their graves as I dunk a tea bag instead of making proper chai on the stove. The thought makes me chuckle as I sip gingerly, allowing the brew to warm me from within.
Meh.I scrunch my nose at the subpar flavor. Beggars can’t be choosers. Making a mental note to stock some loose-leaf tea in Cal’s pantry, I amble out the sliding doors and onto the deck. Morning air greets me as I lift my face up to the sun, a gentle shiver washing over me as the slight chill sinks in. I should’ve worn something more than Cal’s jersey, but I didn’t want to risk waking him up by rifling through his closet.
It’s not much longer before I hear Cal hollering my name.
“Here,” I reply, turning when I hear him barreling down the stairs like an excited little boy on Christmas morning. Shirtless, withimmaculate muscles fully on display and hair sticking up at all angles, he looks delectably mussed. And mine.
His gaze lands on me and instantly, the anxiety on his face is replaced with pure relief. His strides are urgent, and I have just enough time to put my mug down before he grabs me in a hug which squeezes the breath from my lungs.
“Callum,” I wheeze, my feet kicking in the air when he lifts me off the ground and buries his face in my neck. “Too tight.”
“I woke up alone. I didn’t like it.”
“I’m right here,” I assure him, cupping his stubble-roughened jaw. “Not going anywhere.”
“Yet.”
One word, and my stomach twists in knots.
With a sigh, I slide my hand down his arm to lace my fingers with his. “Guess we should have that chat now.”
Cal drops into his patio sofa with a thump, widening his knees to make space for me to sit between them. He grabs the blanket tossed over the arm and covers us with it.
I shimmy into his chest, my eyes settling on the massive Cypress on the edge of his backyard. His woodsy scent calms me, his touch anchoring me emotionally.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, his body warming mine. “I’m embarrassed and ashamed of how I spoke to you the other night. I was angry you were leaving me, but what I said was not okay.”
I run my fingers along his forearm, trying to soothe him. His tone is so full of a guilt I don’t want him to feel. “I’m sorry I walked away instead of talking it out with you.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I do,” I insist. “I never planned on not telling you, but I can see why you felt excluded.”
“Forgive me?” he rumbles, dropping a kiss on the exposed skin of my shoulder.
“Nothing to forgive.”
I twist in his arms and arch up for a quick smooch. Maybe it’s because of last night, or maybe it’s because I can finally admit to myself the depth of my feelings for him, but I want to show him so much affection he never doubts what he means to me.
“Baby, as much as I hate that I made you feel shitty, I’m so fucking proud of you for standing up to me.”
My smile grows against his mouth as he pecks me once, twice, thrice before pulling away.
“Really,” he insists. “It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to a person you lo. . . I mean. . .”