Chapter 6 #3
The game was far from over. Lifting the butt plug, he coated it with lubrication, then slowly pressed it into her ass.
Jennifer’s eyes drifted closed as she whispered his name.
He didn’t chastise her for speaking without permission.
She was drifting into subspace—he could read it in her face, in her responses.
He wondered if his next action would drag her back or push her further into her state of bliss. He hoped the latter.
Once the plug was in place, he leaned forward and reached for a clamp. He briefly considered warning her about the pain to come, but didn’t want to ruin the moment with words. She was floating and if his suspicions about her need for pain proved true, this would only add to the experience.
He removed the clamp.
Jennifer jerked. “Oh my God.”
Caliph had anticipated the response, her shock when she felt that initial jolt of pain. He was there, waiting for her. He put his lips over her sore nipple, caressing it with soft strokes of his tongue and gentle sucks until she calmed down.
She stiffened in preparation when he moved to tug the second clamp free. He repeated the same ministrations, helping to turn the pain into something more pleasurable. He took his time, acknowledging how easy it would be to spend hours playing with her breasts. They were full and sensitive.
Then he felt her stir. He lifted his head and found her eyes on his. He knew what she wanted, but the selfish man inside wanted to hear it from her lips.
“Say it,” he prompted.
“Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Heaven to his ears. He didn’t bother to look at the clock. It was close enough. Reaching above her head, he released her ankles, then her hands. He removed the bullet, tossing it aside.
“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on, love.”
She followed his command, gasping when he placed his cock at her opening. The plug was still in her ass, but he didn’t plan to remove it. It would only heighten the pleasure. Then he paused.
“Shit. Condom.”
He started to reach for the nightstand, but she halted him. “Do you have to use one?”
He frowned. “I’m clean, Jen, but—”
“So am I. And I’m on birth control.”
He blew out a long, hard breath. He’d never taken a woman without a condom. Not once. In his entire life. Neither one of his previous long-term girlfriends had been able to take the Pill without getting sick, so he had been in charge of taking the necessary precautions.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “Come inside me.”
There was a double meaning to her request. And both offers were too good to pass up.
Caliph pushed in slowly, his chest constricting as he forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything so powerful, so freaking amazing.
As much as he tried to savor the moment, to prolong the beauty of it, his measured pace didn’t help.
Jennifer had been riding the razor’s edge too long.
She shook beneath him and he realized she was still trying to hold off.
He pressed in to the hilt, leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Come for me, Jen.”
He started to move, just a slight withdrawal before pushing deeper.
It was all she needed. Her body stiffened as she released a loud, keening cry.
Her inner muscles clamped down on his aching cock and she dragged her fingernails down his bare back—leaving some serious artwork of her own on his skin.
Caliph closed his eyes and fought to regulate his breathing. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He rode out the storm of her powerful orgasm, then—when calmness began to descend once more—he thrust harder, choosing his favorite rhythm, speed.
Jennifer wrapped her legs tighter around him, spurring him on, accepting his rough claiming. When her pussy clenched again, he realized she was on the verge of yet another orgasm. He’d never be able to resist coming this time.
Jennifer trembled with the second orgasm and Caliph joined her, giving in to his own pleasure. The impact of his climax would have knocked him down had he been standing. Jet after jet of come exploded from him, each pulse sending electricity up and down his spine.
What a weekend.
As soon as he was able to move—his strength had deserted him—he fell to her side, pleased when Jennifer rolled, curling against his chest, soft and warm as a newborn kitten.
She was asleep within seconds. He wouldn’t be far behind.
Caliph tucked her closer with an arm around her shoulders, enjoying the feel of her next to him.
For the first time, it felt like someone belonged here. With him. In his bed.
Jennifer fit.
He’d told her she was a blank canvas, that her future was hers to design, to color.
But now he wondered if he hadn’t been a bit blank himself.
The colorful life he thought he’d been living suddenly felt bland, a whole lot of off-white and gray.
In a few short days, Jennifer had added shocking reds, cool blues and vivid purples, opening his eyes to opportunities he’d never considered.
His eyes drifted closed, a heavy warmth coursing through him.
Then he contemplated what happened when the weekend came to a close and the contentment started to wane as reality crashed around him.
The next move wasn’t his to make.
It was hers.