17 - Callum
Callum
I was relieved to see the smile on her face.
I knew that I was taking a risk by using her kitchen without asking her first. For any woman as independent as Miss Lauren, that was a huge gamble on my part and I understood perfectly that she was completely capable of throwing me out if she wasn’t happy about it.
But instead, all she did was put her hair up in a bun and lifted her camera from around her neck. “Mind if I help?”
“It’s your house and your kitchen, ma’am,” I said, half jokingly and she giggled at the formality.
But my throat was dry as sandpaper. Pieces of her hair fell out of the bun, brushing against a slender, soft neck I longed to kiss again.
She set the camera to the side and made her way to the sink to wash her hands.
She looked so perfect. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt but somehow, I preferred it to the beautiful dress she’d worn at Clara’s party.
It was more casual and relaxed, and just being with her, here in her kitchen like this, with her hair in a messy bun and her body language content and at ease, it made my heart stop in my chest.
“So,” she turned to face me, those beautiful big blue eyes filled with mischief. “What are we making?”
“Pizza,” I said almost apologetically. “I would’ve done something a bit fancier but I didn’t have much time. Even less than I thought I had, apparently.”
“Pizza is perfect,” she said reassuringly. Then her eyes went wide at the sight of the saucepan’s contents. “You make your own sauce?”
“My dad would kill me if I didn’t,” I confided, dragging a spoon through the silky tomato goodness and held it up for her to taste. “Try it,”
She pursed her lips playfully, raising an eyebrow as she considered it. Then she leaned forward and took the spoon in her mouth. I felt my body go rigid as she held eye contact with me, my fingers tightening on the spoon’s handle. I swallowed hard.
“Hmm,” she moaned, looking surprised, the seductive glint in her eyes disappearing temporarily. “That’s actually amazing! You really made this?”
“From scratch,” I said proudly.
“You’ll have to show me how to make that,” she said, looking so enthusiastic it made me chuckle.
“I will. But we do have to finish the second base first,” I said.
“You make your own pizza dough?” she said in further amazement.
“Uh, yeah,” I answered. “But it’s less impressive than the sauce. A hack, really. Just Greek yogurt and flour.”
“It’ll probably come out better than store-bought dough anyway,” she said. “Well, guide me. What do you need me to do?”
I explained the process and had her start on the second batch of dough while I sliced up the vegetables and meat for the toppings. We worked side-by-side, our arms occasionally brushing against each other and lingering there for longer than they had to. At one point, Lauren groaned in frustration.
“It’s way too sticky,” she complained, frowning at the mess of gooey dough on her hands. “I think I messed it up.”
“It’s not a problem,” I said, tipping some more flour over her hands and the soggy ball mixture. “It just needs more flour. There’s a bit of a trick to kneading, you see.”
“Can you show me?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, my pulse already picking up as I stood behind her and covered her hands with my own. “Don’t fight the dough. Use the heels of your hands like you’re tucking it in and roll it away from you.”
I went through the motions with her, working the flour into her hands so it would remove some of the stickier parts as we worked the mixture.
It was a more intimate experience than I expected, the way our fingers flexed around and between each other.
The faded scent of her perfume dragged my attention from the dough to the back of her neck.
My hands grew clumsy, and she giggled a bit.
That sound shot through me like a whiskey neat.
It didn’t take a long time for the added flour to fix the dough ball, and in all honesty we were probably overkneading it but I didn’t care.
Not when Lauren was this close to me that I could feel drunk off her scent and heat.
I leaned forward, just a little, just enough to rest my lips on the back of her neck. Just to taste.
She arched into that small touch, a small sigh escaping her as though she’d been waiting for this. My arms tightened around her, my hands staying away despite the overwhelming urge I had to use them. I pressed a gentle kiss to her skin, savoring all the tiny reactions she gave me.
I wanted them all.
“I missed you,” I breathed into her skin. She leaned back against me, a hand going up to touch the side of my face until she realized they were still dirty.
“I missed you too,” she replied, turning her head slightly so I could kiss more of her neck. I followed the elegant line down to her collarbone, eventually resting my mouth on her shoulder. I was dying for more. “I missed this, too.”
That was the final piece I needed. I leaned over and she tilted her head back until I captured her mouth in a soft kiss that had her hum against me, her body singing in my arms. I held both of our dough-sticky hands together and closed my arms around her like a cage, guiding her to the sink.
She still had her back pressed against me, and I opened the faucet, using some dish soap to get rid of the leftover yogurt and flour mixture.
When our hands were adequately clean, we finally let them free to roam each other’s bodies. She turned to face me and I slipped mine around her waist, my thumbs rubbing circles into the soft places where her hips joined her thighs.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, her hands playing with my hair the way she seemed to like doing. The kiss deepened, my tongue finding hers with a cautious sweep until she gasped and pressed herself more firmly against me. Wanting, longing, taking.
“Miss Lauren,” I husked her name like a prayer. “I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I missed you.”
She pressed a kiss to my throat, trailing one hand down my body and I shuddered against her touch. “Then make love to me, Callum. I’m all yours.”
That single line from her set my pulse ratcheting up. I was already hard but hearing her say that…
I knew that Rafe wanted her too. And I knew that it wasn’t one-sided. But I also knew that while both of us were greedy, I was far more patient than he was. I was going to show her that while he could take from her, I was going to give.
When I kissed her again, it was with a renewed sense of ownership of her pleasure, reverence for her body. She was mine, at least for the moment. She was mine and I was going to leave a mark on her so clear that even Rafe would be able to see it.
I backed her up against the fridge, my hands cupping her face as I kissed her deeply. My mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, then her neck. I gently sucked at her skin, breathing in her scent before letting go and soothing my tongue over the reddening bruise.
Lauren moaned and sighed, each little sound from her cranking up my desire until I was bursting with it.
But still, I took my time, wanting her on the brink of sanity.
My fingers worked beneath the hem of her shirt, lifting it up until she shivered in just her bra.
I allowed myself a few moments to take in the beauty of her until I couldn’t bear the distance and returned to the pale silk of her shoulder, my hands now feeling her magnificent breasts through the fabric of her bra.
She moved against my touch, pressing herself into it and I almost cursed out loud.
Instead, a low guttural sound tore itself from my throat.
I slowly moved lower until I was on my knees, my face directly in line with her torso.
I dipped my tongue into her belly button and she whined, rolling her hips forward.
My cock jumped in my jeans. I moaned against her this time, my hands running down her sides and unbuttoning her fly.
I kissed each hip bone, leaving more hickeys in a trail until right above where I wanted to be more than anywhere else.
She was now standing in just her bra and panties, her jeans kicked away in a hurry.
I looked up at her, pressing my mouth against her clothed pussy.
Lauren keened, her hand tightening into a fist in my hair. I groaned, letting my tongue taste her through the fabric.
“Callum,” she gasped. “Please let me touch you.”
“Hmm-hmm,” I said in denial of her request, her natural scent filling my brain with nothing but the undeniable urge to please her, to taste her until she tipped over the edge. “Not this time, Miss Lauren,” I said.
“But I barely got to do anything the last time either,” she complained. When my eyes met hers again, something in me softened at the look of genuine concern on her face. I rose to my feet, my hands still on her hips.
“This is how I take my pleasure,” I said, brushing my nose against hers. “By giving you yours. I want nothing more. Will you let me have that?”
She still looked slightly uncertain. But when I went back down to my knees and buried my face between her legs, she lost all semblance of an argument.
Miss Lauren Wolfhaardt was stunning on a regular day, but in the throes of pleasure she was something divine. I watched her while I worked my tongue against her, using as much pressure as would be useful through the soaking fabric of her panties.
When I finally pulled them down, she was dripping. I groaned low in my throat, dragging her towards my mouth by her hips and let myself feast. Lauren threw her head back, knocking it so hard against the fridge door that for a moment I was concerned she might’ve hurt herself.
But then she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me nearer and I forgot all about concern.
I was lost in the taste and smell and sight of her, and wanted to die here if I could.
Her breathing ran ragged now, her chest heaving as her head rolled from side to side as she rode each wave of pleasure I knew I was giving her.
Instead of fueling my ego, it humbled me.
I don’t know how long I spent eating her out but I know she came more than once and my tongue had started to hurt.
I kissed the inside of her thigh and slid two fingers inside of her.
She was so wet that there was little resistance.
I sat back on my haunches, watching her ride my fingers with utter fascination.
It was all so perfect—Lauren losing herself in her pleasure, the feel of her body clenching on my fingers, the taste of her fresh in my mouth. I was in heaven.
But it didn’t seem to be enough. She grabbed desperately at my shoulder, yanking me to my feet and pulling me into a kiss.
“Please,” she said, dragging my body against hers by the belt.
I saw red but beat back the surge of arousal that action incited. I didn’t think this little lady knew what she was getting herself into. She began pawing at my jeans, undoing my belt and fly and slipping her hand inside.
We both gasped as her hand found my erection and my hips jerked involuntarily. She cooed in my ear, sounding satisfied. “Let me touch you.”
I ground my teeth but nodded reluctantly and then she spit into her hand and began moving it across me and I swear I saw stars. I was panting in her ear, my eyes squeezed shut against every twist and grip she calculated.
“You’re…you’re so good at that,” I grunted, sighing as she rubbed her thumb across the slit. “Miss…ah.”
“I love the way you sound when you let go,” she whispered, repeating the motion. I hissed, my hand quickly snapping to her wrist to stop her before I came too quickly.
“Not like this,” I said, not sure if she’d understand what I meant.
But when I looked into her eyes, it seemed that she did. And she wanted it too. I brushed my lips against hers, then reached into my pocket to retrieve the condom I’d preemptively brought with me. As I got it ready, she laughed.
“A little presumptuous, no?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me. But her words sounded affectionate. Fond “First you commandeer my kitchen and buy your own groceries, and then you bring a condom to fuck me in said kitchen.”
I felt my face heat up at those words.
“I just…I wanted to be safe. The first time we didn’t take any precautions and I just…” my voice trailed off.
Lauren tangled her hand in my hair again, gently scratched my scalp and I melted in her arms, my head lowering until our noses were touching. “I know. I love you for it.”
“Yeah?” I asked, smiling as her mouth met mine again.
“Yeah,” she answered.
Her hands gripped my shoulders as I slipped inside of her, carefully bracing her up against the fridge. Lauren gasped, her mouth popping open and I felt myself throb inside of her, a tortured moan escaping my throat.
Her tight heat around me was perfect. I buried my face in her neck, getting my bearings as my legs turned to jelly.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” she panted. “Yes. Move, baby. I need you to move.”
Goosebumps broke out across my skin at her calling me baby. There was an ownership to that, an entitlement that I wanted in writing, plastered all over these kitchen walls. I wanted it written in every blueprint, screwed into every light fixture, blasted on the skylight.
I moved like I wanted that.
Lauren held onto me like I was the only anchor that existed in a world of nothing but sea.
Her legs wrapped around me like a vise and I nearly blacked out, my hips stuttering as I stumbled back and hit the counter that I’d spent hours working on.
I blindly shoved the contents off the surface and barely registered the sound as they hit the ground.
All that mattered was that I could lay her down there, climb on top and watch her eyes drink me in as our bodies rejoined. My name had never sounded as beautiful as when she kept reciting it over and over again, and when she came, she dragged me with her.
We tumbled over the edge together, our moans swallowed by a kiss that wiped my mind of everything but the taste of her. We stayed like that for a while, with me still inside her.
I wished I could capture that look on her face forever. It was like—
The bubble of the moment was instantly pierced by an electronic shriek that had both of us quickly move apart and scramble off the counter. I realized in horror that the pizza base I’d left in the oven had triggered the smoke alarm. I didn’t even notice.
Lauren couldn’t contain her amusement as I scrambled to turn off the oven and waved an oven mitt to waft out the heavy smoke.
“I think it’s a little overdone,” she said, a gleam in her eye.
I chuckled, feeling the highest I had in a long time. “Well, Miss Lauren, if we’re going to start a fire, I guess there’s no better place.”