47. Dakota
47
DAKOTA
Have mercy.
I’m about to expose my inner tramp with the way his words make my pussy weep.
He wants me to show him my tits. Sure thing, babe.
I’ve been waiting for this moment.
Without responding, I let go of Callaway’s neck and lift the hem of my t-shirt, bringing it over my head. I can tease him or rush to it; I think I’ll go with the latter.
My restraint for him is wearing thin.
My shirt comes off in one swift motion, leaving me in nothing but a pair of red lace panties, and my sensitive breasts ready to be explored. I let my gaze run up the length of Cal before reaching his eyes, finding them directly where I thought.
Put them in your mouth, Callaway.
His stare is feral like a vampire fighting against its blood lust.
There’s an unspoken carnal need between us, and it’s about to explode. Heat blazes my skin from his intensity.
I need him to touch me .
But I’m gonna play with his restraint a little first.
“Like what you see, Ocean Eyes?” My breathing is coming out in heavy pants, doing a terrible job at disguising how turned on I am.
His eyes are unwavering. Fuck me, please.
“I want to do bad things with you.”
Please do.
“And what’s that?” I’m taunting him, and it's working.
His hungry chuckle almost makes my arms give out behind me. My body is on high alert.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? But fuck me, Dakota. These tits.” His eyes have yet to halt the raking of my body as he grabs my love handles and squeezes them tight.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” The feel of his hands on me is incredible.
Licking his lips, Cal contemplates his next move. I feel him everywhere. I need my willing heart rate to calm down.
“Mhmm, we’ll get there. But not until I taste every inch of you.”
A loud groan erupts from Callaway’s mouth as my body is held firmly against his, and he lowers me onto the countertop. The coldness does nothing to deter the heat coursing through me.
“You got a thing for countertops, Callaway?” I need to shut up, but I can’t help myself. This is our thing.
“I have a thing for you.” Same, babe, same. “And for the color red it seems.”
He’s ghosting his thumb across the top line of my panties, making me quake with want.
I’m teetering on a fine line of instability; his words rile me up just thinking about the thick veins on his cock. I’m greedy for his touch.
How the tables have turned. I was never the one in control; he has always held my independence in the palm of his hand.
Hands that I’m hoping will head south soon.
As soon as I think he might give in, he circles around the kitchen island so his body stands directly at my head, looking down at me full of tension.
I love the view—time to make my move.
I waste no time in reaching my hands into his jeans and attempting to make quick work of his zipper. I want his cock in my mouth, and I want it now. The idea of bringing him debilitating pleasure makes my thighs clench with anticipation. Yet, Callaway seems to have other plans as he quickly grabs my hands and locks them together in front of me.
“What did I say about me being in control? Does it look like I’m even close to being satisfied by you?”
All I can do is shake my head. His domination is sexy as hell. This might be better than his cock in my mouth. Not likely, but I’m invested enough to find out. He could chain me to these cabinets, and I’d still ask to taste him.
“By all means, have your way with me. I was waiting for you to catch up.” I throw him a devious wink, my meaning behind it clear as day, and I’m not sure what emotion I’d say his reaction comes from, but I’d like to think he’s feeling ravenous .
In seconds, Callaway pulls my arms above my head and takes a step back, giving them the space they need to straighten out in front of me. He’s studying my body, eyes still homed in on my needy tits as he pulls the purple silky scrunchie from my bun and uses it to tie my wrists together. I’m restrained, arms up, tits out, naked all but my lace panties on display, and I’ve never felt sexier or more desired by a man in my life .
“Stay like that. Don’t move, or I’ll make you wait longer.”
His steady steps take him back to where he started at the spot in between where my legs are dangling off the counter. Cal taps my knee once, and it's as if my body answers to him because I’m lifting my legs and letting my knees fall apart without hesitation.
I know my panties are soaked, and he can see the evidence of that—smell the proof too.
“Fuck. Look at this pink and swollen pussy. You look like you're aching, baby. Doing your hardest to keep these beautiful legs from closing and relieving some of that tension. Let me take care of it for you.” He’s circling the tip of his finger over the fabric of my panties, teasing me with his touch.
I’ll never get used to his dirty mouth. It makes me wild for him.
“Please.”
A whimper of a moan leaves my lips, and that’s all it takes before he snaps. Callaway grabs the top of my panties and pulls, tightening upwards, causing the friction of the lace to rub against my clit.
I’m crying out in pleasure before my mind can catch up as he rubs the fabric up and down. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, and my nipples pebble to peaks, ready to be abused by his mouth.
The desire is maddening.
I can barely keep my wrists from fighting the restraints. He bites his bottom lip into his mouth, watching my panties pull into my soaked cunt, and slowly releases. I can barely catch my breath before he’s swiping my pussy lips with his finger as he hooks onto the lace to move them to the side.
Just his finger alone ghosting my entrance has me spiraling .
“Callaway, please. Eat my pussy.” He’s growling, undoubtedly feeling rash from the craving we’ve been battling for so long, finally coming to the surface.
“That’s my girl. Take what you want.”
His tongue sliding through my opening sends me into oblivion so deep, I could cry from the feeling of it. Cal spears his tongue in and out, mimicking the motion I know his cock will soon be doing, and I feel myself staggering to the edge of ecstasy.
He’s moaning and grunting loudly, and I know he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Ever the selfless giver.
He reaches upwards, trailing his large, calloused hands up the length of my stomach, headed to the place my body has been waiting for him to show attention to, and he grabs ahold of my full breasts before squeezing them tight.
“You taste incredible. But these tits. Christ, I want my cock to get lost in them. Gonna do that soon.” He’s stammering his words, lost in his haze of desire over me. He pinches my nipples between his thumbs, and I swear I see a galaxy of stars drifting me to an elevated peak of pleasure. My arousal coats his lips—a personal form of claiming him. God, I’m close. He’s licking and sucking, dragging my clit into his mouth like he’s been starved for years.
I’ll gladly be his meal.
“Uhh, Cal, I’m about to come. Don’t stop.”
My lust turns to rage as his mouth leaves my pussy as quickly as it came, and he’s back to circling towards my head.
Come back, please.
“What the hell was that?” My attempt at lifting my head to follow him turns out to have a zero percent success rate due to my man-made wrist restraint.
This jackass is edging me .
I’ve had enough of that shit. Months of edging have led me to this moment of weakness. I’ll beg if that’s what he needs from me; it’s clear he’s enjoying his success at my ability to submit to him so willingly.
It looks like a night of romantic lovemaking is not on the agenda for tonight, but cage-fighting out months of pent-up sexual frustration is.
I’ll entertain it. I’ll also, however, make sure the torturous foreplay wreaks havoc on his composure as well.
Two can play at this game, Callaway Hayes.