21. Nadia
21
NADIA
Nothing about this felt real. For years, I’d imagined being with Callum again. I’d dreamed about it and fantasized about it. Now that it was happening, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. But the last place I wanted to be right now was out of my body. Wanting, no, needing , to ground myself in the moment, I ran my hands up and down Callum’s back, desperate to feel something tactile to anchor myself.
Pressure built low in my belly as he surged in and out of me in deep, elicit strokes. My hips bucked, seeking the pleasure that was just out of my reach, but he was having none of it. His hand gripped my thigh, forcing me to be still. I whimpered in frustration and arousal at his strength and control. I loved and hated when he took charge and didn’t allow me to set the pace. It was a sensual torment that both excited and aggravated me.
Being completely at his mercy fulfilled an unspoken desire only he had ever satisfied. I trusted him implicitly, which allowed me to surrender to him completely, something I’d never been capable of doing with another man. His primal energy overwhelmed me, sending a full-bodied shiver rushing through me from my head to my toes.
Even if this lasted all night, which I knew it wouldn’t, it would be over too soon. It was going to be fleeting. Then what would happen?
We weren’t together. We’d barely spent any time with each other since he’d arrived in town. I wasn’t even sure what his relationship status was. I knew he wasn’t cheating. He would never do that, but what if he and Felicity were on a Ross and Rachel break? Or forget the show Friends; it didn’t even have to be a fictional TV reference. What if they were on a Callum and Nadia break, and they were going to be back together next week or month?
No. Stop. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t going to waste even a second of the precious, sacred time I had with him being in my head. I needed to savor every single touch, every breath, every word, every sensation, every emotion, every moment. Not just enjoy it. I needed to savor it, to absorb it into my DNA. I had to be able to recall, relive, and revisit every single second of this night.
The last time we were together before we broke up, I had no idea it was going to be the last time. I took it for granted. I assumed I’d always have an all-access pass to Callum’s heart, his arms, his lips, and his dick. I was wrong.
This could very well be our farewell reunion performance, and I needed to soak up every single second in case there was no encore. That would be impossible if I spent the entire time in my head.
Hoping to shut my brain off from any outside noise or distraction, I focused on each of my five senses separately instead of trying to take them all in at once. It was something I’d learned to do to deal with my anxiety. I needed to be fully immersed in this experience.
I began with touch, running my hands up and down his back, concentrating on the sensation of his smooth skin and the contours of his muscular frame. I absorbed the weight of his body bearing down on me. I luxuriated in the sensation of my ultrasensitive nipples rubbing against his bare chest.
Closing my eyes, I listened to the patterns of our intermingled labored breaths. The sounds were layered over the constant drum of my heart beating wildly in my chest. The inhales and exhales as our bodies became one and the thudding of my heartbeat combined to create the soundtrack of our lovemaking.
I inhaled deeply, breathing in the woodsy, citrus-clean scent of his soap and unique musk, which hadn’t changed in the decade he’d been gone. I’d missed that smell so badly. For months, his trademark aroma had lingered on the shirts and sweatshirts I’d ‘borrowed’ and never returned. When it finally dissipated, I mourned the loss almost as much as I’d grieved not seeing him, speaking to him, touching him, kissing him. It was the final piece of him that was gone.
Opening my eyes, I visually drank in Callum’s muscular chest, chiseled arms, square jaw, and perfect lips, taking note of all the new tattoos he’d gotten during our time apart. I ran my fingers over them, committing to memory where they were and what they were of.
Wanting to indulge in my final sense, I pressed open-mouthed kisses up and down his neck. My tongue slid along his skin before my lips took their place, peppering soft kisses. The salty-sweet flavor that was uniquely him burst on my taste buds, and I lapped it up.
The more I fixated on one single aspect of this experience at a time, instead of being overwhelmed or overstimulated, the more aroused I got. Sensory play was a potent aphrodisiac. Every nerve ending I had was activated. My entire body quivered with anticipation as I got closer and closer to the release I so desperately craved.
“You feel so good, so wet,” Callum growled possessively as his fingers flexed into the flesh on my hips. The pressure of his forceful grip shot a lightning bolt of bliss to my core. My inner walls clamped around his shaft as a burst of pleasure ricocheted through me. “So wet…for me .”
I was his. It didn’t matter if we spent all these years together or not. Time didn’t matter. Our relationship status didn’t matter. Other partners didn’t matter. Nothing changed the fact that I’d given my heart to this man when I was twelve years old on the pier, and he’d never returned it.
His large hand gently ran from my hip down my outer thigh. The sensation of the ridges on his calloused palms grazing my smooth skin sent shivers of pleasure rushing through me like white water rapids. The walls of my body began to flutter around his member as it expanded in my body.
Without warning, Callum tugged my knee up to his chest, pulled out, and drove into me so hard it took my breath away. My eyes shut as the line between pain and pleasure blurred. I had to force myself to relax my body, or else it would be too much, too intense.
“Look at me,” he commanded gruffly.
I forced my lids open, and when I saw him staring down at me, I could see in his eyes and feel in his body that he was close, too. Waves of tension were radiating off of him. Every part of me was alive with anticipation. My mind, body, and soul were stimulated.
Callum rested his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes as he thrust inside of me with a force that had me gasp as my back arched. I could feel him swell once more. With each surge, he stretched my body to its limit. Before I caught my breath, he drove into me again, and again, and again.
He claimed me over and over as he held me in place with his stare. Each time he entered me, he brought me closer to the edge of release, but I wasn’t ready to go over just yet. More than anything, I wasn’t ready for him to be done yet. I knew exactly what to do to drive him crazy. Or at least I used to know. If we were going to do this, there was a look in his eye that I wanted to see, and I hadn’t seen it yet.
Without warning, I put my hands on his chest and pushed up. He stilled and looked down at me. He was trying to catch his breath, and I could see by his strained expression that it was torture for him to stop. His cock began throbbing heavily inside of me, and I knew I was on the right track.
For a split second, concern clouded his face, but when I continued pushing, that concern morphed into remembering exactly what I had in store for him. He allowed me to roll him over so he was lying flat on his back, and I was beside him.
He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, which was something he did when he was frustrated. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“But it will be such a nice way to go,” I teased.
I moved so I was kneeling between his legs. His erection was standing up proud from his body, but I ignored it, which took a lot of self-control. Instead, I directed my attention farther north, pressing soft kisses to his chest. I paid special attention to his For now, For always tattoo, then continued lower to his abs. When I reached his thick, straining member, it was covered with the cloudy evidence of my arousal. It had always turned him on when I tasted myself on him. With my eyes locked with his, I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, sealed my lips around his engorged head, and sucked him into my mouth.
A deep, guttural moan ripped from his chest as he reached down and brushed aside the hair that had fallen in my face, so his view wasn’t obscured. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he guided me as I moved up and down his shaft.
“Fuck,” he hissed as his dick expanded in my mouth.
I licked the underside of his shaft, keeping the suction of my lips tight and squeezing my fingers around the base of his girth. Within seconds, spurts of his release began shooting up through his cock.
“Nadia,” he said my name with a warning tone, but I ignored it.
No, that’s not true. I didn’t ignore it; I rebelled against it. He wanted me to stop. Instead, I increased the pressure of my lips and the speed of my strokes while tightening the grip of my fingers at his base as I took him so deep he hit the back of my throat. My efforts were rewarded when I felt him swell in my mouth so fast and so thick that I gagged on him.
My rebellion was short-lived. Just when I thought I had him right where I wanted him, which was in my mouth, he pulled some crazy MMA move, and I was flat on my back again. This time, however, there was no way I was going to be able to push him over. He had my arms trapped above my head.
When I opened my eyes, Callum was staring down at me, and I saw it—the look in his eye that I’d wanted to see. It was a look that made me feel like he needed me more than air to breathe—more than water, or food, or sunlight. It made me feel like I was all he needed to survive, and he was going to devour me, claim me, possess me.
With one hand pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head, the other lined the broad head of his steel length up to my sex and drove into me with one forceful plunge. I gasped at the intrusion as my body was stretched to its absolute limit. The sting and pressure only increased the pleasure. The first thrust had me close to going up and over the edge. He pulled out and then drove inside of me again. Tingles and tension built up in me. My back arched, and I tugged my arms down, but Callum’s hold tightened.
His dominance served to turn me on even more. When his fingers flexed, not allowing me to move, my inner walls contracted, then released, and a burst of tingles exploded in my core. I continued tensing and relaxing my tight sheath around Callum’s thick shaft, chasing another sweet shock of bliss.
A moan vibrated from his chest as he rasped against my ear, “I love it when you squeeze my cock. Just like that.”
The heat of his breath fanning down my neck and the brush of lips grazing the cusp of my ear all enhanced the sensations flowing through me. With one hand keeping my body firmly in place and the other caging my arms above my head, I was at Callum’s mercy, totally powerless, and I loved it.
Pressure coiled low in my belly as my inner walls continued pulsing around Callum’s rigid length, causing him to expand. The sting of his weighty girth stole the breath from my lungs.
“Yes,” I gasped. “You feel so good. You feel so good inside me.”
My thighs began to tremble as he drove into me once more, and his entire body tensed. Finally, the pressure crested, and wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me. Each time I thought it had passed, another wave would come and drag me back out to the sea of pleasure.
Finally, after the last aftershock claimed me, my arms and legs went limp. Every ounce of energy I had was gone; I was depleted, drained, totally empty. I was so satisfied I felt drugged. My thoughts were foggy. When I finally managed to open my eyes, Callum was resting his forehead against mine. We were both attempting to catch our breath.
“I didn’t use any protection,” he panted.
“I’m on the pill.”
I had been since we were teenagers, and I still was.
He released my hands and started to push off of me, but I quickly flung my arms around his neck and held onto him. “Don’t, not yet.”
“Afterplay,” he whispered and kissed my nose.
It had been a running joke between us that I wasn’t a foreplay girl; I loved afterplay, which we claimed was a term we made up, but I’m sure it was around before us. The truth was, I loved the weight of Callum’s body on top of me, the scent of him surrounding me, the feeling of our skin on skin with no barriers between us.
This was when I felt the closest to Callum. This was when I felt the most intimate. This was when I felt the most connected to him.
“Afterplay.” I nodded, and I managed to tilt the corner of my tired lips up into a grin. “Only with you. Just you.”
The look in his eyes changed as he rested on his forearms. It went from playful to serious. He brushed the few strands of hair that were stuck to my cheek. “Only me.”
It felt like a lot more was being said in those two words, but there was no way I was going to say them. There was one thing I was going to ask. “Do you have to go soon?”
He shook his head. “I can stay for a while. Matty’s at the movies, and Chloe’s at a sleepover.”
“Ariana was going to ask you in for a drink,” I blurted out.
His brow knitted. “What?”
“That was the school mom I was talking about earlier. She was going to ask you to come in and have a drink when you dropped Chloe off.”
He stared down at me for a few beats with what I could only describe as an amused grin before asking, “You’re telling me another woman was going to ask me to have a drink with her while I’m inside of you?”
Well, when he put it like that, it sounded crazy.
My nose scrunched, and I lifted my left shoulder in a tiny shrug. “I want you to know you have options.”
“No.” His expression grew serious once again as he rested his forehead against mine and rasped, “No. I don’t.”