Chapter 29
ALIA
Isay it as much as a reminder to myself as it is to him.
“We’re. . . fuck-buddies,” I reiterate, cringing at both the curse and the term itself. Neither feels right, but Cal is used to sharing his body without sharing his mind or heart. I’ve yet to learn that.
“So, being friends who sleep together means I shouldn’t speak with you after kissing you?” he asks, brows arched superciliously.
I pull myself off him to settle against the headboard, holding the sheets up to my chest, as if it’ll strengthen the walls I need to build.
“I only mean that I don’t need all the pretty words. The compliments and the post-coital cuddles.”
“Right. Because it’ll be so much better if I fuck you silently and leave.” Still sitting at the foot of the bed, he hunches over to rest his elbows on his knees. I can’t see his face, but his voice is terse, his words clipped when he says, “Is that what you truly want?”
My stomach turns, the ache in my chest growing at the thought of being left alone now.
When he puts it like that, it sounds so.
. . cold. I look up to find mossy eyes locked on me, glimmering with something which—to my immense confusion—looks like hurt.
No, that makes no sense. Cal’s history with women is prolific.
Why would an offer to keep emotions out of this hurt him?
“Wouldn’t that be better?”
“Fuck, no. I’m a man who likes to talk in bed. And I promise you, you won’t be quiet with me either.”
Just like that, my pulse fires up again and my core clenches around the glaring emptiness within. He’s silent, as am I, neither able to look away. The moment between us stretches so taut, it’ll snap if either of us blinks.
I concede.
“I’m sorry.”
The tightness in his stance doesn’t lessen.
“I’m not good at this, Cal. I’m trying to be who I think I should be in a friends-with-benefits arrangement. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
The side of his jaw visible to me twitches, like he’s digesting what I’ve confessed.
He stands up, reaches over his neck, and rips his shirt off, displaying all his glorious back muscles.
My gaze snags on the spirals of ink covering his shoulder, a glowing sun with its rays snaking down his upper arm.
At the bottom, a group of birds fly in formation.
I’m so distracted by his tattoo that I don’t realize him reaching for me until he tugs me to lie under him. Gentle fingers stroke my cheek, gripping my chin and nudging my face up.
“I’m not mad at you,” he gruffs. “I’m mad at the asshole who made you believe you don’t deserve to hear you’re stunning or be cuddled and pampered after sex. I’m fucking pissed you’re afraid of trusting a compliment. That’s what I’m angry about.”
I reach up to touch his chest, but he traps my wrist, pinning it on the bed beside my head.
“Let’s fix your misapprehensions, Tots.”
One fist bunches the fabric pooled at my waist, a gentle tug requesting permission.
Wordlessly, I raise my hips, letting him drag the rest of my dress off along with my thong.
I have no time to adjust to the fact that I’m naked because I find myself flipped sideways, my back to his chest. He shifts behind me and within moments, a gentle light suffuses the room.
“Cal,” I protest, but he shushes me.
“Just a little light, baby. Please. Enough for you to see,” he hums, sliding one arm under my neck to pillow it, the other resting possessively on my hip. Maybe it’s because he called me ‘baby’ or that he’s holding me like I’m precious, but I start to relax.
“See what?” I ask, trembling when his breath tickles the side of my neck.
“That,” he whispers, pointing to the window where a blurry image of us on the bed greets me. I can’t contain my sharp gasp at the view.
“We’re too high for anyone to see. But, if you want me to stop, I will. You’ll always have a choice with me, Alia.”
My fear urges me to draw the curtains and shut myself away.
But something about Cal’s gentle insistence gives me the courage to step into the light.
I want to know myself without the shackles of restraint and confusion.
I don’t want to self-sabotage and assume I don’t deserve attention or encouragement.
So, despite my misgivings, I stutter, “D-don’t stop. ”
His hum of pleasure at my acceptance is so heady, I close my eyes to savor the sound.
“Then watch, because I’m going to show you every part of you I find attractive,” he rasps. “Everything I’ve obsessed over since we met.”
Sparks blossom beneath my skin, my breasts growing heavy, aching for his touch.
“Your hair,” he murmurs, twisting a lock of it around his finger. “I’ve imagined wrapping it around my fist as I fuck you.”
Oh my. . .
“Your eyes,” he continues, tugging my hair ’til I’m forced to twist my neck to look at him. “I’ve never seen eyes as brown and innocent as yours. But when you’re turned on,” he adds, his palm cupping one breast, “they’re black. I could drown in them without a single regret.”
I struggle to steady each breath when his finger finds the tip of my breast, rolling the aroused bud until I’m shifting restlessly against him. “Your tits. Perfect fucking handful. Like they were made for me. Look.”
I turn to the window and watch, hypnotized by the slow glide of his open palm over the length of my body, his skin pale against my sun-kissed tan. Like an artist crafting a delicate piece of pottery, he molds my shape. His touch is reverent and thorough, an invisible brand I’ll wear henceforth.
His hand slides between my legs to hook my upper thigh over his.
“Open your legs for me, gorgeous. That’s it.”
His soothing tone matches the warmth blooming inside my chest when he cups me where I’m bare, massaging me softly. The heel of his palm presses against my pubic bone, but it does nothing to ease the overwhelming ache pulsing and swelling under his caress. My clit hurts with how badly I need relief.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes,” I beg, stilling when the blunt tip of his thick finger searches through the seam of my pussy. With a wiggle, he swiftly sinks the entire length of his finger into me, making me choke on a gasp.
“Fuck, Tots, you’re so tight and hot. You’ll have to learn to take my fingers before you take my cock.”
In and out, slow and steady, he plays with my body, his thumb flicking my clit until I’m wet enough for him to slide a second finger in. The miniscule burn of stretching is so pleasurable, I moan out loud. Dear lord, is this what I’ve been missing all this time?
“Open your eyes,” he orders.
His teeth nip at my ear in a punishment I want him to repeat.
I obey, fighting the haze vignetting my vision so I can focus on the image of my naked body wrapped in his arms. One muscular forearm curves around my hip and his hand disappears between my spread legs.
I look like Eve with the serpent lovingly coiled around her exposed body, enticed into a new age of eroticism with a single succulent bite.
“Do you see what I see, Tots? Do you see how sexy you are? How perfect?”
A low keening sound spills from my throat, my back arching in his hold. I squirm, needing more of him than I can express.
“When you’re ready for me, I’m going to watch your face when I slide into you right here,” he rasps in my ear, punctuating his promise with a determined thrust of his fingers.
I cry out when he taps a spot inside that makes me writhe.
The wet smacking of my arousal joins my whimpers as he drives his fingers into me.
“The room won’t be dark when I finally fuck you, gorgeous.
I’ll make you come with every part of your sexy body on display and watch my cock stretch this tight, little cunt when I make it mine. ”
My eyes roll into my head as my vision blurs, my head filled with lascivious images.
How am I meant to survive this? Maybe this is how I die: with his fingers inside me, one hand massaging my boob and his stiff cock rubbing against my ass as he tells me how deep and hard he’ll fuck me as soon as I’m ready.
His voice is like a siren call, a devilish whisper that seduces me, drawing me out of the cloak of meek respectability I’ve hidden under.
He’s luring me to embrace the heady pleasure of having the power to make him delirious with want.
The mere thought makes my body thrum with need.
My hips push back, my ass tucked into him as his steely erection rubs between my cheeks.
“Oh god, don’t stop.”
He thumbs my clit and I tighten, my moan garbled as his fingers pick up speed.
“Who’s making you feel good, baby?”
“You,” I whimper, reaching out to hold his wrist. I’m not certain if I mean to stop or encourage him, but my grip has no effect on his speed.
“Say my name,” he growls, pinching my clit and making me squeal. A chorus of ‘Cal’, ‘please’ and ‘yes’ spills from my lips as I chant his name like a prayer.
“I—oh, I’m close.”
“Hold it, not yet.”
Another pinch, a tap, and his fingers thrust in again, curling until they’re massaging me in a spot I firmly believed was a myth. Tension coils within me, winding me tighter and tighter. My stomach contracts, my body priming for the rush that beckons me.
“There it is,” Cal croons, his lips brushing my ear as he flicks my clit and scissors into me.
“Cal,” I choke, my face turning into the bicep pillowing my neck. His arm bends to wrap across my collarbone, anchoring my shoulder tightly to his. My legs quake, unable to withstand the wait.
“Come for me baby, let go. I’m here to catch you.”
His permission tips me over the edge. I fall apart with a broken sob I have no hope of muffling.
Tears rush to my scrunched eyes, leaking down the sides of my face as I shake with the intensity of my orgasm.
My body feels like it’s floating and drowning all at once, but I have no energy left in me to thrash to safety.
I drag in deep, desperate breaths, unable to gain control of myself.
I’m helpless, held against the body of a man who’s altered me irrevocably.
Cal continues to work me over, letting me ride the wave fully before rolling me onto my back. His face hovers above me, clearly highlighted by the lights streaming in from the windowpanes on one side and the golden glow of the night-lamp on the other.
“Good tears or bad?” he asks quietly, his fingers dancing down the length of my arm in a soothing stroke.
“Good.” My voice is hushed, my mind still reeling. He closes the gap between us, brushing a kiss over my damp cheek before pressing his lips to mine.
My mouth parts immediately; his tongue dips in, the salt of my tear and a flavor that’s innately him mixing together in a heady combination I could get hooked on.
And, god help me, my nipples harden in response.
He must be some sort of magician who’s bewitched my body to react to every little thing he does.
He breathes; I stand in attention. He touches me; I go up in flames. He kisses me; I am reborn.
We finally break apart but, when our eyes meet, even in the soft light, I feel caught.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
A crack within me fills and I bite down on my lower lip as the burn behind my eyes intensifies.
“Now what?” I clear my throat so I don’t sound like I’m about to cry. One bout of tears per sexual encounter is any sane person’s limit. “Are you going back to your room?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
I shake my head truthfully. “No.”
A pleased grin brightens his expression.
“I don’t want to leave either. Especially since I’d be walking out wearing my cum.”
My mouth pops open.
“You. . . you came in your pants?” Incredulity has my voice pitching high at the last word. Cal huffs out a sheepishly proud chuckle.
“The sexiest woman I’ve ever known was letting me finger fuck her, all while making delicious noises that will get me hard for years. So yeah, I came in my pants grinding against your sweet ass like a fucking teen. You’ve wrecked me.”
I snicker. His words are crude, but his message buoys my confidence more than any compliment could.
“You like hearing that, brat?” He playfully bites the side of my neck with a growl, smacking my ass and making me giggle wildly.
“It’s a compliment. I’m learning to take a compliment,” I tease, wriggling more when his stubble tickles me as he kisses me under my jaw. I bask in the delight of his affection, my fears finally quieter than they were earlier in the evening.
“Damn right, you are. C’mon, gorgeous,” he pats the side of my thigh as he helps me up. “Let’s get cleaned up and you can keep me warm tonight, you lucky girl.”
He’s being obnoxious on purpose to make this easy on me after I cry-maxed.
But he’s right. I am lucky to be with him tonight.
His kindness is like a balm against every jagged edge of my insecurities.
He calmed the fears which propelled this trip to Vegas in the first place.
After a long time, my impulsive decision to pursue something I want yielded positive results.
Callum is my reward for being brave. And I’m determined to earn more of him.