Chapter 14 #3
I don’t decide to move. My body just does it—turns my face into the side of his throat, right up under his jaw where it’s strongest, and I drag in a breath so deep it hurts.
Oh.
Oh.
The heat comes back like someone opened a valve.
One lungful of him and it floods me all at once, worse than the first time—the ache twisting up hard and deep between my legs, my whole going slick again in the space of a breath, my whole body clenching down around nothing at all.
I whimper against his throat as every nerve in my body lights up.
Calder goes completely still. "Again?" he says.
I can’t answer with words. I just press my face harder into his throat and breathe him in like I’m starving for it.
The second lungful is worse—better—than the first. Heat rolls through me in a thick, heavy wave, and my body answers before my brain can catch up.
Slick spills between my thighs. My cock hardens against his hip.
A small, desperate sound slips out of me.
His arm tightens. “Okay.” The word is quiet, almost careful. “Okay. I’ve got you.”
He rolls us so I’m on my back again. This time there’s less hesitation in the way he settles over me. His mouth finds mine, deeper than before, and I open for him without thinking. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker.
“Tell me what you need.”
The question lands somewhere soft and unprotected. I feel my face heat. The words stick for a second, then come out small and embarrassed.
“Um, h–harder,” I whisper. “Please. And—your hand. On… me.”
He doesn’t make me say it twice. His hand wraps around my cock, firm and sure, and the first stroke pulls a broken noise out of my throat.
At the same time he pushes back inside me in one long, smooth thrust. I’m still open from before, still slick, and the stretch is different this time—fuller, easier, and so much better it makes my eyes sting.
“That’s it,” he says against my mouth, dragging me into another deep kiss.
My head goes dizzy as I taste him and my whole body relaxes onto his cock.
“Just like that,” Calder coos. “You’re doing so good for me.”
The praise hits harder than the thrust. Something in my chest cracks open. I turn my face into his neck so he won’t see whatever expression just crossed it.
He notices anyway.
“Look at me.”
I do. Reluctantly.
“You’re perfect,” he says, quiet and certain. “Taking me so well. Look at you.”
I make a helpless sound and rock up to meet the next thrust. The rhythm he sets is deeper than the first time, hungrier, the wet sound of it loud in his quiet room. Every time he bottoms out he grinds just a little, and every time he does it he tells me something that makes my throat close.
“Good. God, that’s… fucking good, Sonny.”
He traps his bottom lips between his teeth as he thrusts into me all the way.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”
He finds a rhythm, fucking into me just as his fist strokes down my cock and I cry out, louder than I expect.
“That sound…Christ.”
I shouldn’t like it this much. I should be mortified. Instead I keep asking for more in small, shame-laced pieces.
“Deeper—please—”
He slams into me, punching the words right out of my mouth.
“Don’t stop talking, Cal.”
He sits back on his heels, pulling my hips up and his cock finds a new angle that makes me scream out again. “Don’t stop talking? You wanna hear my voice?”
I nod. “Mmhmm…”
Calder grinds as he’s deep inside me and then gives me exactly what I want. “You want it harder, huh?”
I nod, my mouth wide open as I stare up at him in a trance.
“Can you take it?”
I like my bottom lip and roll my hips so he sinks in even further. My cock bounces and slaps back on my belly.
“Fuck—look at you.” His voice has gone rough, almost strained. “Taking every inch like you were made for it. You’re so fucking good like this, Sonny.”
The praise lands hot and sharp under my skin. I make a small, broken sound and try to push back onto him, chasing more.
He watches me for a second, breathing hard, then suddenly pulls out. The loss is immediate and awful—I whimper at the empty stretch, hips lifting off the bed like I can follow him.
“Easy.” His hands are already on me, turning me. “On your knees. I’ve got you.”
I go where he puts me, clumsy and shaking, ending up on all fours with my face pressed into the pillow.
The new position feels more exposed, more deliberate.
Cool air hits the slick coating my ass and dripping down my thighs.
Embarrassment flickers—then vanishes the second I feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against my hole again.
“Still with me?” he asks, voice low.
“Yes. Please—put it back.”
He pushes in slow at first, letting me feel every thick inch, then bottoms out with a deep, satisfied groan. The angle is different here—deeper, heavier. When he starts to move, the thrusts land harder, more purposeful, and the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Push back on me. Just like that. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
I do what he says. My arms tremble. Every time he drives in I rock back to meet him, and every time he tells me how good I am, how well I’m taking him, how beautiful I look stretched around his cock.
The words unravel me faster than the friction.
Nobody has ever talked to me like this. Nobody has ever made me feel like wanting it this badly was anything other than shameful.
“Cal—” My voice cracks. “Harder. I can—I can take it.”
“I know you can.” One big hand settles between my shoulder blades, pressing me gently down into the mattress so my ass is higher. The next thrust makes stars burst behind my eyes. “Listen to you. So fucking responsive. You’re doing beautifully, sweetheart.”
The pet name and the praise almost undoes me on the spot. My cock hangs heavy and neglected between my legs, dripping onto the sheets. I reach for it, but he beats me there—wrapping that calloused hand around me and stroking in time with his hips.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let me feel you. Be good for me and come on my cock.”
It only takes six more strokes before the pressure builds and explodes.
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me hard enough that my arms give out completely. I moan into the pillow as I spill over his fist and the sheets. My body clamps down around him in tight, rhythmic pulses, and the wet sound of him fucking me through it turns filthy and loud.
He doesn’t stop.
Even as I’m still shaking, still clenching around him in the aftershocks, Calder keeps driving into me—harder now, deeper, the careful rhythm from before completely gone.
A low, animal sound rumbles out of his chest with every thrust. His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me back onto his cock like he can’t get deep enough.
“Fuck—look at you,” he growls, voice rough and thick. “Still taking it. Still so fucking wet for me. God, your hole’s greedy.”
The oversensitivity is sharp at first, almost too much, but the heat under my skin twists it into something else.
Every rough snap of his hips punches another broken sound out of me.
I can feel how slick I am, how easy it’s become for him to bury himself to the hilt.
My cock is still twitching against the sheets, spent and sensitive, and somehow that only makes the stretch of him feel more intense.
“Cal—” My voice cracks. “I just— I already—”
“I know.” He leans over me, chest to my back, and the new angle lets him grind even deeper. His breath is hot against the side of my neck. “I know you did. And you’re still gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna let me use this pretty hole until I’m done.”
The crude words should mortify me. Instead they pull a helpless, needy sound out of my throat. I push back to meet the next thrust without meaning to.
“That’s it,” he rumbles, almost approving. “Fuck, yes. Just like that. Take my cock. You’re so fucking good for me.”
His scent has changed completely now—thicker, darker, flooding the room until I’m drowning in it.
Alpha. Pure and undiluted. It sinks into my lungs and makes the heat flare all over again, even though I just came.
My body softens for him, opens wider, like it’s answering something older than either of us.
He fucks me through the overstimulation until the sharp edge blurs into a deep, relentless pleasure.
I’m moaning into the pillow, arms trembling, letting him move me however he wants.
The wet slap of skin on skin is obscene.
Every time he bottoms out he grinds hard, and every time he does it he mutters something filthier.
“So tight. Still so fucking tight around me.”
“Gonna fill you up. Gonna pump you so full you’ll feel me for days.”
“That’s my good boy—taking every inch like you were made for it.”
I don’t even realize I’m crying a little until the pillow under my cheek is damp. Not from pain. From how much it is. From how completely he’s using me and how much some desperate part of me loves it.
His rhythm finally stutters. A deep, guttural groan tears out of him as he drives in one last time and holds. I feel the first hot pulse of him coming inside me—thick, flooding, more than I expected—and then the base of his cock starts to swell.
The stretch is sudden and intense.
“Cal—wait, wait—” Panic flickers bright and sharp. I try to push up onto my hands, instinct screaming that it’s too much, something is locking me in place, that I need space—
His arm comes around my waist like iron, his entire body covering my back. The other hand plants beside my head, caging me in. He doesn’t pull out. He can’t. The knot is already too big, sealing us together with a deep, throbbing pressure that makes my breath hitch.
“Shh.” His voice is still rough, still thick with whatever has taken him over, but the tone has shifted—lower, steadier, protective. “I’ve got you. Easy. You’re safe, Sonny. I’ve got you.”