Chapter 24 #3
I peeked one eye open. “Well, look at the logistics, Cal. Have you seen the size difference? Do I look like I’m built to do the heavy lifting?”
Cal snorted, a genuine laugh that shook the bed.
“Besides,” I added, rolling onto my back and looking up at him, “I do all the highflying work in the ring. I carry the match. When I come to bed? I want to just lay there and let you handle it.”
Cal laughed harder, shaking his head. “Did Lena teach you what a ‘pillow princess’ is?”
“Absolutely,” I deadpanned. “And that’s the role I’m claiming in this relationship. My cardio is reserved for Pay Per Views.”
Cal’s laughter faded into a warm, affectionate smile. He leaned over me, boxing me in with his arms.
“I can handle that,” he whispered. “I like having you under me. I like knowing I’m the one making you feel good.”
“Then make me feel good,” I whispered, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his hair. “I need it. I need to feel you. Ground me.”
The playfulness vanished. Cal kissed me, deep and slow. It wasn’t frantic like the texts suggested. It was heavy. It was affirming.
He moved over me, his weight settling between my legs, pressing me into the mattress. It was exactly what I needed, the pressure, the presence, the undeniable reality of him.
“I’ve got you,” he growled against my lips. “I’m right here.”
Cal placed kisses down my body, trailing from my neck down to my waist. His lips lingered, making sure to kiss every bruise, cut, and scrape left from the aftermath of the cage match. It wasn’t about sex yet; it was about worship. It was about putting me back together.
“Are you sore?” he murmured against a particularly dark bruise on my ribs. “From your match.”
I nodded, my breath hitching as his stubble grazed my skin. “I’m okay though. I don’t think I expected to be as sore as I am honestly. Guess we aren’t as young as we used to be.”
Cal smirked against my skin, the vibration buzzing through me. “Think I can fix that.”
He nudged my legs apart, settling between my thighs. We hadn’t bothered putting clothes on last night, and right now I was thankful for it. The skin on skin contact was electric, grounding me to the mattress, to him.
Cal took quick notice of my cock starting to twitch just from that sensation alone. He hummed, a low sound of approval.
“You know something you don’t let me do nearly enough?” Cal said. He planted a wet, openmouthed kiss on my inner thigh, his hand snaking up to wrap around my cock. He began to lazily stroke it, his thumb dragging over the head, spreading the precum that was already leaking.
I whimpered, the sensation of his rough, calloused hand being so gentle was sensory overload in the best fucking way possible. “What?”
“Suck your cock,” he said, his voice dropping to a filthy growl.
I shuddered on the words. “I didn’t know you liked to.”
Cal raised an eyebrow, looking up at me from between my legs. “You really didn’t think I liked it?”
I shrugged helplessly, his stroking getting more intense, creating a friction that made my hips buck involuntarily.
“No—I just—figured you felt like it was my job to do that to you—” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.
Cal’s hand stopped. He looked genuinely offended. “You mean to tell me the reason you haven’t mentioned me sucking your dick or telling me you wanted it is because you thought I had some stupid connotation that because I top I don’t want to do that?”
Embarrassment took over and my cheeks flushed a bright red. Now that he said it out loud, it did sound absolutely stupid. Jesus, had I really deprived myself of Cal blowing me because I didn’t think he was into it?
“You have no fucking idea how much I love when you let me do it,” Cal said, his eyes darkening. “Or how often I think about it.”
“Tell me,” I demanded, throwing the line he always used on me back at him. “Tell me how you think about it.”
Cal leaned forward, his breath hot on my stomach.
“I think about choking on you,” he whispered, the words explicit and dirty.
“I think about how you taste after a match, I think about looking up and seeing you unravel while I take every inch of you down my throat. I want to feel you hit the back of my throat, Si. I want to be used by you.”
The admission stunned me. It was a sliver of submission from the man who was always in control, always the heavy anchor.
“Fuck—” I shuddered, more fluid leaking from the tip of my cock.
Cal made a low, vibrating groan at the sight of it. He pressed his thumb to my slit, swirling the slickness, and the sensation made my eyes roll back in my head.
“You want me to do all those things, don’t you baby?” Cal said low, as he started to kiss up the underside of my shaft, his tongue flat and wet.
“Please—please,” I choked out, my hands gripping the sheets.
“Please what? Tell me what you want to do to me, Si.”
The embarrassment built inside of me, heat rising in my chest. I was never the one to be this vocal, to take this kind of control, but Cal was changing that right now. He was giving me permission to be selfish.
“I—I want to—face fuck you—” The words left my mouth breathless and a bit uncertain, foreign on my tongue.
Cal didn’t hesitate. He looked up at me with eyes that were black with lust.
“Then do it,” he growled. “Fuck my face, baby.”
He didn’t wait. He lowered his head and swallowed me whole.
“Oh god!” I screamed, my hips snapping forward off the mattress.
It was feral. Cal wasn’t being gentle anymore; he was ravenous. His mouth was hot and incredibly wet, his tongue swirling around the head of my cock before he bobbed his head down, taking me deep. The sound was obscene, wet, sloppy suction that echoed in the quiet room.
He wrapped one hand around the base, pumping in time with his mouth, while his other hand grabbed my hip, anchoring me in place.
I lost my mind. The sight of him, Callum Kincaid, the Heavyweight Champion, the man who had just pulled me out of a panic attack, between my thighs, destroying himself on my cock, was too much.
“Cal, fuck,” I groaned, watching his cheeks hollow out as he sucked.
He pulled off with a wet pop, drool stringing between his lips and my cock. He looked wrecked, his eyes watering, his face flushed red. He coughed, gagging slightly, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.
“You’re so big,” Cal rasped, looking at my erection with genuine awe.
Hearing him praise me, seeing him struggle to take me, stroked an ego I didn’t know I had.
“Take it,” I panted, my hands finding his hair, gripping tight. “Take all of it.”
Cal moaned and dove back down. This time, I didn’t just lie there. I pushed into his mouth, finding a rhythm. I thrust my hips, sliding in and out of his wet heat, fucking his face just like I said I wanted to.
Cal groaned around me, the vibration traveling straight to my groin. He didn’t pull back. He pushed against me, meeting every thrust, taking me deeper than I thought possible. Saliva and precum coated my length, making a mess of his chin, dripping onto his hand.
Pressure built at my entrance. Cal’s finger pressed against my rim, slick with spit.
“Cal!” I gasped.
He pushed his finger inside, curling it immediately to hit my prostate.
The combination of his mouth suctioning the head of my cock, the friction of his hand, and that finger hitting my sweet spot sent white-hot lightning through my nerves.
“I’m gonna—Cal, I’m gonna—”
He sensed it. He clamped his lips down tighter, sucking harder, swirling his tongue while his finger pumped inside me in a cruel, perfect rhythm. He was edging me, dragging out the pleasure until it bordered on pain.
I snapped. My hips bucked wildly, driving deep into his throat one last time.
“Fuck!” I screamed, grabbing his hair, holding him there as I unraveled.
I came hard, pulse after pulse firing into his mouth. Cal didn’t pull away. He took it all, moaning through the inundation, swallowing what he could, but there was so much it spilled out of the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin and neck.
I collapsed back onto the pillows, my entire body trembling, my chest heaving as I tried to remember how to breathe.
Cal slowly pulled back. He made an obscene, wet popping sound as he released me. He sat back on his heels, looking absolutely destroyed. His hair was a mess, his lips were swollen and red, and his chin was coated in spit and cum. His eyes were hazy, blown wide.
“You thought I felt bigger?” he panted, breathless, wiping his mouth with a stray towel left on the bed. “Jesus, Si. I don’t remember giving you head being that… intense.”
I stared at him, my heart still racing, feeling lighter than I had in years. The panic was a distant memory, replaced by this raw, messy, beautiful reality.
“I think you sucked my soul out of my fucking body,” I said, my voice trembling.
Cal laughed, a rough, satisfied sound. “Please, let me do it more.”
I reached out, running my thumb over his wet, swollen lip.
“Anytime you want,” I whispered, smiling. “Anytime.”