Chapter 12
twelve
JAY
Punching my pillow, I clench my teeth. All I can think about is how stunning Calla looks and how we're supposed to just sleep now.
Who in the world thought that having just one room was a good idea?
I can hear her breathing, slow and steady. She’s probably asleep now. Lucky girl.
I, on the other hand, am a mess. I’m all wound up from the kiss we shared on the Ferris wheel earlier. That, plus seeing her in that ridiculously sexy teddy, has made sleep an impossibility. All the blood has left my brain and rushed to my dick, which is throbbing like a second heartbeat.
I toss and turn, trying not to disturb her. After what feels like an eternity, I realize there's only one way I'm going to get any relief. I need to take care of this, or I’ll be up all night thinking about her.
About the way Calla’s lips felt against mine. About her soft body so close to me in bed.
I get up as quietly as I can and tiptoe to the bathroom. The last thing I want is for her to wake up and see me like this. I’m a walking cliché, the horny dude who can't keep his dick in line. But I’m desperate.
The bathroom is a shrine to kitschy romance, with rose-patterned wallpaper and a massive glass shower. I turn the water on and let it heat up, hoping the sound doesn't wake her. My cock is still painfully erect as I strip off my pajamas and step into the shower. The hot water cascades over me. I take a deep breath, letting the steam fill my lungs.
I soap up my body. My cock is demanding attention, and I don’t try to resist for long. I close my eyes and imagine Calla in her teddy, her hands running over my chest, her lips teasing mine. I groan and start to stroke, slowly at first, then with more urgency.
In my mind, she’s on her knees, taking me into her mouth with a hunger that matches mine. I bite my lip, trying to keep quiet, but the pleasure is too intense. I imagine what her perfect pussy would feel like, how it would grip me.
In two minutes, I’m already dangerously close to the edge. That suits me just fine. The sooner that I come, the sooner I can crawl back in bed beside her and… well, probably still be horny.
The bathroom door opens. My eyes snap open in horror. Calla pokes her head in, her hair tousled and her eyes sleepy. She sees me jerking off and goes maroon, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“I— I thought I heard you calling me,” she stammers. “Are you… uh… okay?”
Was I calling her? Maybe. I’m not even sure at this point. My cock is still hard, even with her standing there. I’m proud of my body and not opposed to anyone looking as much as they want. But I’ve just been caught holding my dick while moaning her name .
Right now, there’s a degree of mortification that even I feel.
“Calla,” I say, my voice rough. “I was thinking about you. Maybe I did call your name.” I take a breath, then plunge ahead, figuring I’m already as deep in as I can get. “Not to be crude, but if you want to join...”
To my amazement, she doesn’t run. She bites her lip and just stares, considering. Then, after what feels like an eternity, she steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind her.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Is this really about to happen?
The steam swirls around us and creates an almost dreamlike haze. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, each more frantic than the last. What will this mean for us? Will it ruin everything or make it all more real?
All I know for sure is that I’ll die if she backs away now. Before I can second-guess myself, I crook a finger. Beckoning her closer. Daring her to take the next step.
Calla hesitates for a split second, her hand lingering on the doorknob. I prepare myself for the crushing disappointment of her walking away. But then she lets go and moves deeper into the bathroom, her bare feet silent on the tiled floor. My breath hitches.
She’s all in? God, so am I.
I step out of the shower, water dripping from my body, and seize her, my lips crashing against hers with a desperate hunger. Her skin is cool against my wet, heated flesh. I can taste the remnants of her lip balm, sweet and intoxicating. My hands travel down her sides, feeling the slippery silk of her teddy. I tug it down over her hips. It pools around her ankles. Then she stands before me, vulnerable and breathtaking .
"You're so beautiful," I murmur. My voice sounds so strange, tense and thick with longing. I cup her breasts, feeling their weight, their softness. Her lips part and she lets out a small, needy whimper. Her nipples are hard against my palms. I brush them with my thumbs, eliciting a gasp from her.
There's no time to savor her like I want to. The train has left the station, and we're hurtling forward at breakneck speed. I kiss her again, more urgently, and she responds with a fierce passion that takes me by surprise. I back her into the shower. The hot water cascades over us, turning her hair into a dark, glistening mess.
Calla's hand slides down my torso. Her touch sends electric shocks through my body. She wraps her fingers around my cock. I suck in a breath, my entire being focused on that single point of contact.
"Fuck," I mutter, my forehead resting against hers. "Don't be gentle. I want to feel your touch."
She strokes me with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. Meanwhile we kiss wildly, our tongues battling for dominance. The water creates a slick, slippery surface for my hands to wander over. Her body glistens like she's been coated in oil. Her breasts, her ass… the shadowed crease between her thighs calls to me. I want it all . I want to take her right here, right now, but I force myself to let her set the pace.
Easy boy. No need to act like you’ve never been to the damn rodeo before.
Under her sure strokes, I can barely stay still. The tension in my body is unbearable as I start to thrust against her wet fingers. Each movement sends a jolt of pleasure through me, making my knees weak.
Calla’s eyes are locked on mine. I see a mix of desire and admiration as she whispers that my body is amazing. Her words nearly push me over the edge. I grit my teeth, trying to hold on just a little longer.
“Don’t judge me too harshly,” I manage to say, my voice strained. “I’m so close to coming already.”
She looks up at me with a teasing smile, her lips curving seductively. “Let go,” she commands, her voice soft but unwavering. That smile… fuck , it’s my undoing.
I go wild, fucking her hand with a desperate intensity. My hips drive forward with a mind of their own. Our mouths collide in a frantic kiss. I can feel her slick, hot body pressed against mine, every curve and contour fitting together like we were made for this. The sensation is overwhelming. My skin is hypersensitive from the water and her touch.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. The pleasure is so intense that it borders on pain. It’s the best, longest release of my damn life, each spasm wringing me out completely. I groan deep in my throat. My body convulses as it empties itself. It just keeps going and going, an unending stream of ecstasy that leaves me dizzy and breathless.
When I finally finish, she continues to stroke me, milking every last drop until I’m too sensitive to bear it. I grab her hand, pulling it away gently, and kiss her with all the gratitude and affection I can muster. My legs are like jelly, but I manage to stand as I push her back against the glass wall, pinning her there with my weight.
She tries to speak, pushing against my chest weakly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to?—”
“Shhh. You’re crazy if you think I’m not doing exactly what I need to be doing right now.”
Her eyes widen slightly and her cheeks go a bewitching shade of hot pink. She darts her tongue over her lips, wetting them. Excited, I growl, determined to give her the same pleasure she’s just given me. I kiss her lips, her gorgeous breasts, savoring the taste of her skin. Everywhere my lips fall, her body is so soft and sweet.
I part her thighs. She opens them for me, her body trembling with anticipation. For a moment, it feels like we’re in another world, a place where only our desires exist.
When I touch the slit between her legs, she moans loudly. “God, Jay. That feels so good.”
I have the feverish thought that this is exactly what the Honeymoon Suite should be used for.
I use my hand to lift her leg, then slide my fingers into her, feeling the hot, wet clutch of her body. I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her neck. I savor the taste of her skin as I whisper in her ear.
“I love hearing you lose control, Calla.”
Her breathing is ragged, her chest heaving. She lets out a series of small, helpless whimpers. She kisses me back with a desperate hunger, like she’s been starving for this, for me. It’s been a while since my little wife has been touched like this , I muse. The thought sends a possessive thrill through me.
She tries to close her thighs, to trap my hand and intensify the pressure, but I’m not done teasing her yet. I trace my hand up to find her clit, swollen and aching. I rub it slowly, deliberately, my wet fingers shaping the tender bud with gentle precision.
The look on her face is rapturous. I want to take a picture of her just like this to be able to remember just how amazing I feel right now. She closes her eyes and bites her lip, her face a mask of pure need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice cracking with longing. “Please, touch me more. Make me come, Jay.”
Her plea sends a jolt of arousal through me. I have to fight the urge to take her right now, to bury myself in her and make her scream my name.
“Patience, honey. Patience.”
I keep my pace agonizingly slow. I want to draw out her pleasure, to make this last. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. She starts to writhe against me, her body moving with a will of its own.
I imagine what it would be like to do this every night, to come home to her and undress her slowly, to take her into the shower and blow her mind. The thought is almost too much to bear. I push it away, focusing on the here and now, on the way her body responds to my touch.
She’s so close, teetering on the edge. I can feel her trying to hold back, to prolong the exquisite torture. Calla presses her lips together and lets out a groan.
“Jay…” she whispers. “Fuck!”
“That’s what I like to hear, little wife,” I murmur. “Let me hear how badly you need me to play with your clit.”
Her lips part. A high, keening moan escapes her. Her body arches, every muscle tensing. Her orgasm is barreling down on her and she fights against the overwhelming sensation of it. I rub her a little harder, a little faster. I watch with pleasure as her hips start to buck against my hand, seeking more, demanding it.
“Let go,” I whisper. “Isn’t that what you said to me? Let go.”
She screams, her body arching. I keep rubbing her clit, playing her like a violin.
"Good girl. Give me everything you have, Calla. I'm starving for it. "
Her convulsions are intense. I can feel the flutter of her pussy clenching against my fingers. I don’t let up, continuing to rub her clit as the orgasm stretches on. Her moans echo in the steamy bathroom.
When I think she’s finished, I begin to slow. But her body tenses. Suddenly she comes again, the second wave crashing over her with even more force.
“God damn .” It's a revelation for me; I’ve never been with a girl who could have multiple orgasms, much less two in a row like this.
A surge of pride swells within me. How have I lived so long without knowing this incredible feeling of giving such profound pleasure?
I watch her face. Her eyes are screwed shut, her mouth open in a silent cry. She’s absolutely stunning in her raw, unguarded ecstasy. Holy hell, I love this. I love seeing her like this, knowing that I’m the one making her feel so good. Thoughts of what this means for us flit through my mind, but I push them aside. Right now, all that matters is this moment and the way we’re connecting physically.
I kiss her softly, tenderly, and she responds with a weary sweetness.
“Jay… that was incredible.”
“I want to do it again. Give me another one, wife.”
There's a new familiarity in the way we touch. She giggles.
“You’re awfully greedy.”
“Maybe I just like feeling you come on my fingers. I would touch you all night if you’d let me.”
Calla kisses me tenderly. “I think you really would.”
She has to pull my hand away to stop me from going for round three. We kiss, both laughing. As her spasms subside, I rise slowly, my body protesting from the hot water and the intensity of the encounter.
“What now?” I whisper.
She gets up, rises on her tiptoes to kiss me, then takes my hand. “I think we should just go to bed.”
“No talking about what just happened?”
Her lips twitch with humor. Instead of answering, she leans close and turns off the tap behind me.
Guess I got my answer.
We step out of the shower, dripping and flushed, and both grab towels from the rack. The warmth of the fabric against my skin does little to calm the storm inside me. I watch her as she dabs at her hair, her body still glistening, her movements slow and deliberate. There’s a new softness in her eyes. A vulnerability that tugs at something deep within me.
I wrap my towel around my waist and take her in my arms, pulling her close. The dampness of her skin seeps through the towel. I kiss her forehead, her cheek, her lips.
Each kiss is a promise, a confession. We’re treading dangerous waters, and we both know it.
“Jay—” she starts. But I silence her with another kiss, this one lingering, filled with all the things I’m too afraid to say out loud. She was right to suggest not talking. I don’t want to talk anymore.
Talking will make this real. I’m not ready for reality to intrude just yet.
Calla pushes against my chest and gently separates us. I sigh and grab the heap of our clothes from the bathroom. There is a moment of awkward silence as we both pull our sleeping garments back on.
We make our way to the bed. She lies down first, her body stretching out like a cat. I can’t help but admire the way she moves, the easy grace of her. I lie down beside her, propping myself up on one elbow, and trace a finger along her collarbone.
She meets my gaze. Her lips twist and for a second, I swear she’s about to ask me if I want to fuck again. The answer on my lips is absolutely, yes .
“This doesn’t have to change anything,” Calla says quietly. “You know?” I can hear the doubt in her voice. She’s trying to protect herself. To protect us both.
“Calla,” I say. I want to say the right thing, but I don’t know what that is. I settle on, “I know.”
But do I really? Can we go back to the way things were? Have we crossed a line that can never be uncrossed?