Chapter 26 #2
She has one hand braced on my thigh and the other wrapped around the base of me, working both together in a rhythm she's built from months of paying attention.
I brush the hair from her face and gather it in one hand, holding it back so I can see her properly. Her cheeks hollow around me. Her eyes are huge and locked on mine, watching my face the way I watch hers.
"Look at you." My voice is rough, barely holding. "Fucking perfect. You know that?"
She hums around me and the vibration makes my hips jerk forward. She smiles. She actually smiles with my cock in her mouth, that bratty, pleased smile that undoes me every single time.
I grip her hair tighter because the alternative is losing it right there.
"You like being down there on your knees for me, don't you? Sucking my cock like it's your only purpose?"
Her eyes close in pleasure, and mine do the same when I feel more of her mouth, more of her spit slicking around me. She's driving me crazy with her mouth, with her eyes, with her very existence.
I slowly fuck her mouth, careful not to push too hard, careful not to hurt her. I never want to hurt her. But the need to own her, to tether her to me forever, to make her so mine that no city and no distance could ever take her away, is overwhelming.
She works me deep, her tongue pressing flat against the underside, her lips stretching around me while she bobs steadily, taking more with each pass. The heat builds fast, her needy whimpers vibrating through me, making my hips twitch forward.
I reach down and cradle her head as I wrap the strands tight around my fist, feeling her throat relax to swallow me whole.
"Ah, I love it when you get this needy for me, Trouble,” I rasp, my voice rough with the edge of control slipping. "A perfect little slut for my cock, taking it like you crave every inch."
The words spur her on, her whimpers getting more desperate, more pathetic, and my palm cups the back of her head. I need the hold for her sake as much as mine because I want to fuck her mouth rougher than I should, want to take and take and take until there's nothing left of me to give.
She holds my wrists and loosens my hands from her hair, pulling back with wrecked eyes and bruised lips. A string of her spit, or maybe my precum, still connects her to my cock. I have to lean down and lick it into her mouth because that's where it belongs. That's where I belong.
I fuck her mouth with my tongue, her whimpers mixing with mine, and I don't know who sounds more pathetic now. My lips trail down her ear, into her hair, and I am breaking apart just at the thought of ever letting her go.
"Callahan." She moans my name like a prayer. "Come back to me. Please."
She looks ruined, and she has never looked more beautiful. She holds my gaze, and then she nods.
"Do it."
I grab her face, one hand on each side of her head, and thrust forward. Slow. Controlled. She takes it, all of it, her throat working around me. I hold there for one second, two, then pull back and watch her gasp. Then I do it again. And again.
As far as blowjobs go, this is just deep, not enough friction to make me come. But I am too close already, because she is her and gets under every defense I have.
"Want my cum?" I'm panting, my hands still cupping her face. "Me to lose control?"
"Yes." Her voice is raw and eager and stripped bare.
"Then suck it out of me. Nice and slow. Like you mean it."
She leans back in and takes me deep, and there's nothing playful about it anymore. Every pull of her mouth, every drag of her tongue, every filthy sound she makes around me is deliberate and focused. I can feel myself unraveling.
I could stay like this forever. I could live in this moment, slipping in and out of her mouth and never need another thing.
But I'm losing it. The control, the pace, the ability to form sentences. All of it going. All of it hers. I want to fall apart in her hands and let her have every piece of me.
I am done. Done being in charge. Done running this. Done pretending I'm the one with power here when this woman on her knees has all of it and we both know it.
"Stop," I command, but I barely manage the word.
She pulls back, lips swollen and wet, a question in her expression.
There's a fire in my gut twisting sharper, hotter.
The need to bury myself deep inside her crashes over me like a wave I can't fight, all reason dissolving into this need that demands I claim her, fill her, make her mine in every way that matters.
"Please." My hands are shaking. "I need to be inside you. Please." My voice cracks on the second one and I hear it and I don't care. "Please. Please, baby. Lily."
She rises off her knees and pushes me back onto the bed and climbs over me. I pull her down, my mouth finding hers, tasting myself on her tongue and groaning into it. She reaches between us and guides me in. The sound we both make is the same sound, at the same time, and it fills the room.
She sinks down slowly. And then all the way. Her hands flatten on me, her head tips back, her hair falls in a dark curtain behind her. I let her set the pace because I am too far gone to be trusted with it.
She moves, rolling and grinding, finding the angle that makes her moan. I watch her from below, unable to do anything but grip her hips and watch her take her pleasure from me. Feel every second of it like a current running through my whole body.
"Callahan." My name is broken in the middle, the way it always does when she's close.
I sit up, pull her flush against me, one arm locks around her waist and I turn us, needing to fuck her the way we both need it.
I drive into her as deep as I can, and her arms come around my neck, holding on, her face pressed to my temple.
"Right there," she gasps. "Right there, right there, please."
I give her right there. Every time she says it I drive into the same spot, feeling the tremor building in her thighs and her stomach and her arms. I press my lips to her throat and feel her pulse hammering under my lips as she shatters around me.
I grab her face and pull her toward me as I empty myself into her.
“Fuck," I rasp. "What are you doing to me?"
I am delirious, my hips still moving inside her as I spill into her, wave after wave.
"The same thing you're doing to me," she pants as ripple after ripple of her orgasm shakes her body.
Her words hit me like a freight train, shattering what little grip I have left. I crush my mouth to hers, devouring her gasps, my tongue pushing deep as if I could pour every broken piece of my soul into her.
She's milking me, pulling every drop from me. And it's too much. Too intense. Too consuming. I can't think. Can't breathe.
"Fuck, Lily." My voice cracks with the strain. "You're taking it all, aren't you? Every goddamn bit of me."
"I can't stop," I confess, the words torn from somewhere primal. "I can't stop filling you."
My vision blurs, my ears ringing, but I can't stop fucking into her body, needing to spill my cum and my soul into her at the same time.
She doesn't let go for a second, happily taking me and holding me, inside and out, until the storm raging subsides.
Sometimes I think I have actually lost it for real. I must have, what else can explain this need for another person like this?
I feel utterly vulnerable, stripped bare in the aftermath, but with her trembling in my arms, it doesn't scare me. And as our bodies slow, spent and shaking, I hold her closer.
She is mine. Only mine. Only mine.
"Hi," she whispers.
I smile against her neck. "Hi."
She pulls back enough to see my face and pushes my hair off my forehead with gentle fingers. "You never have to hold back with me."
"I'm not." I brush her hair out of her face, my hands tired but determined. "I won't."
"I love how you make me feel." She's still whispering, her voice wondering. "You call me your slut and I feel free."
She keeps caressing my hair as I caress hers, both of us touching each other like we're making sure the other is still real.
"You call me your whore and I feel cherished."
I drink in her face, every freckle and every eyelash, memorizing her the way I've been for months.
"Is that fucked up?" she asks, almost shy.
I kiss her as an answer. I kiss her over and over, anywhere I can reach, her forehead and her cheeks and her eyelids and the corner of her mouth, because I am feeling too much and if I don't shut her up, I will ruin it.
Because she doesn't deserve my ruin. She deserves the world.