Chapter Twenty-Six
Callum
I shouldn’t be bringing her back to my place.
She’s trouble.
Not the kind I’m used to, the wide-eyed, flirty kind that throws herself at a bad man for the thrill of it. Nah. She’s something else entirely.
Something I should probably be running the fuck away from.
Instead, I’m gripping the wheel with one hand, the other on her knee, driving her straight to my fucking doorstep.
Because this girl is going to ruin me.
And I’ve never been the type to turn down a good fucking downfall.
She’s watching me. I can feel it. Has been the whole ride.
Sizing me up.
Like she’s trying to decide exactly how she wants to devour me.
It’s fucking cute.
She thinks she’s in control.
We’ll see about that.
I pull into my lot, kill the engine. The trailer’s dark, quiet. Just the way I like it.
She twists in her seat, tucking one leg under her like she’s making herself comfortable.
Like she’s staying a while.
“You sure you want this, sweetie?” I ask, watching her.
She cocks her head, eyes all big and sweet, like I just said the dumbest fucking thing in the world.
“Oh, Callum,” she sighs, voice dripping honey. “I’m going to keep you.”
My cock throbs.
Jesus.
This girl.
I step out of the car, round the hood, and by the time I open her door, she’s already looking up at me like she’s ready to be devoured.
I offer my hand.
She doesn’t just take it, she laces her fingers through mine like she’s already claiming me.
Yeah. I’m fucked.
I take her inside.
It’s a trailer, not a palace, but it’s mine.
Dim light, a whiskey bottle on the counter, and a bed that I’m about to wreck her on.
I kick the door shut.
She stands there, all soft curves and pink fucking lace, watching me like she already knows what’s coming.
“What now?” she purrs.
Oh, baby. Now I break you.
I don’t even answer.
I grab her.
Crash my mouth to hers.
She gasps, sweet little sound, but her hands are already on my belt, fingers working the buckle like she’s starving.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me harder.
I shove my hand into her hair, tilt her head back, and take my time.
She tastes like sugar and something dangerous.
Something addictive.
Something that’s gonna be my downfall.
I bite her lip. Suck her tongue into my mouth. Drag my teeth down her jaw, to her throat, where her pulse is pounding like she already fucking knows.
She’s not leaving this bed without screaming my name.
“Take off your clothes,” I rasp.
She shivers. Then she smiles. Slow. Knowing. “Make me.”
Oh, sweetheart.
She says make me like she thinks I won’t.
Like I won’t tear her apart and put her back together the way I want.
My fingers hook into the soft pink straps of her dress.
It’s fucking delicate.
Too delicate for the way I’m about to take her.
So I rip it.
A little gasp, half shock, half something filthy, slips from her lips, and fuck me, she’s not even mad.
If anything, she’s delighted.
Her eyes flash, lips parting like she’s about to say something sharp, some sweet, dangerous little quip, but I don’t give her the chance.
I grab her throat.
Not hard. Just enough to feel her swallow. Just enough to let her know who she belongs to right now.
She melts, fucking melts, into my grip.
I lean in, voice all low and rough. “That what you wanted, baby?”
A shaky breath. Then a smile. “You could have just asked me to take it off.”
Oh, fuck me.
Her tone punches through my gut straight to my cock.
I push her back, step, step, step, until the backs of her knees hit the bed.
She drops, sprawled across my sheets, bare except for those soft pink thigh highs and those dangerous fucking eyes.
“You don’t follow rules, do you?” I mutter, dragging my hands up her thighs.
She grins, slow and sweet. “Only if they’re worth following.”
I fucking growl.
Then I yank her legs apart and drop to my knees.
Because I need to taste her.
Need to know exactly how bad she wants this.
Her breath catches.
I drag my tongue over the inside of her thigh, slow. Teasing.
Her hips twitch so sensitive already. I grin against her skin.
She whimpers.
And fuck, I love that sound.
I press a kiss to her thigh, then another, then I bite.
Not hard. Just enough.
Just to see how she reacts.
She gasps, moans, squirms.
And when I glance up?
She’s watching me, wide-eyed, flushed, panting.
Like I might just fucking wreck her.
And oh, sweetheart.
I will.
She’s fucking dripping.
I haven’t even touched her yet, not where she needs it, and she’s already soaked.
Jesus Christ.
I drag my fingers up the inside of her thigh, slow, teasing, until they graze her slick heat.
She shudders.
I grin. “You’re making a mess, baby.”
Her breath hitches, back arching. “Then clean me up.”
Oh, fuck.
She wants to be ruined.
Needs it.
I grip her hips and yank her to the edge of the bed, throwing her legs over my shoulders.
She squeaks, adorable.
Then I dive in.
A long, slow lick.
She cries out.
I do it again, deeper, filthier, sloppier.
Her hips jerk against my mouth, thighs trembling.
Perfect.
I suck, tongue flicking against her clit, fast, relentless, dirty.
She whimpers.
Moans.
Fucking writhes.
I grip her hips, pinning her down. “Stay still, baby.”
She tries.
Fails.
So I slap her thigh.
Hard enough to sting.
Her whole body jerks.
She fucking moans.
Oh, she likes that.
I chuckle, dark and low. “You like being handled, huh?”
She nods frantically, breathless.
I sink a finger inside her.
She gasps, clenches.
“More,” she pleads.
I give her two.
Twisting. Stroking. Fucking her open.
She bucks.
I curl my fingers, pressing right against that sweet spot inside her.
She screams.
“Come for me, baby,” I growl, sucking her clit hard.
And she fucking breaks.
Shaking, crying out, grinding against my tongue.
I keep going, lapping up every last drop, even as she trembles through it.
She whimpers, shudders, trying to catch her breath.
But I’m not done.
Not even close.
I stand, shove her further up the bed.
She looks up at me, dazed, ruined.
I unbuckle my belt, watching her watch me.
She licks her lips.
Little tease.
“You ready for my cock, baby?” I murmur, stroking myself.
She moans at the sight. “Yes.”
Fuck.
I climb onto the bed, grab her thighs, and line myself up.
I rub the thick head against her, slow, teasing, stretching.
She whimpers.
Begging, wordless.
I push in, inch by inch.
Her lips part. “F-Fuck.”
I slam in.
She screams.
And I lose my goddamn mind.
She claws at me. Writhes beneath me.
My name spills from her sweet, wrecked mouth like a goddamn prayer.
And I’m barely getting started.
I drag out slow just to hear her whimper, just to make her feel it.
Then I slam back in.
She shatters. Hands clutching my shoulders, thighs trembling around my waist.
“More,” she gasps, desperate.
I give her more.
My pace brutal. Relentless.
She’s so tight, so wet.
I grip her hips, hold her right where I want her, and fuck her deep.
Hard.
Her back arches.
Her head tips back.
Fucking gorgeous.
She’s whimpering, moaning, shaking.
I grab her jaw, force her to look at me.
“Who’s fucking you, baby?” I growl, slamming deeper.
She shudders.
“You,” she whispers.
I grip her throat, squeeze just right. “Who owns this tight little pussy?”
She moans so fucking loud. “You, Callum.”
I nearly lose it.
Fuck.
I flip her over, yank her up to her knees.
Her ass is perfect.
I grab her hips, slam into her again.
She cries out.
Pushes back against me.
Fucking taking it.
I fist her hair, pull her head back. Bite her shoulder.
She whimpers.
Fucking loves it.
“You like being fucked like this, don’t you?” I growl.
“Yes,” she whispers, wrecked.
I slide a hand between her thighs, rub her clit.
Her whole body jerks.
She’s so close.
I feel her tighten, tremble.
I slam harder, deeper, filthier.
“Come for me,” I demand.
She fucking cries out my name.
And that’s it.
I lose control.
I thrust once, twice and fucking explode.
Growling against her neck, holding her tight, pumping deep as I fill her.
We collapse onto the bed, breathless, ruined.
I drag her against me, wrapping my arm tight around her waist.
She’s shaking.
I kiss her shoulder, her jaw, her cheek.
“You good, baby?” I murmur, voice rough.
She sighs, melting into me. Satisfied. Owned. “Mmm. More than good.” Her fingers trace lazy circles on my chest. “Think I’ll keep you.”
I chuckle, biting her lip.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I pull her against me. “You don’t have a fucking choice.”