Chapter 46 Cal #3
I strip faster, almost impatiently, eager to feel her warmth, her softness, against the violence still echoing in my bones.
I turn her, my hands on her hips, bending her over the counter.
Her forearms brace against the cool marble, and the faint nightlight glow traces the line of her spine, like a golden thread guiding me home.
Dropping to my knees, her thighs part for me instantly, recognizing my touch before her mind can catch up.
I grip her hips, slide my hands upward, and spread her open with my thumbs.
She glistens in the dim light, soft, swollen, already wet.
The sight of her hits me like a punch to the gut, and I groan against her inner thigh, feeling her tremble.
“Cal…” Her voice is a shaky breath, already undone, sweet and raw.
I lower my mouth to her, licking her slow—one long, deliberate stroke from the base of her cunt all the way to her clit.
She gasps, hips jerking, and I hold her steady, sucking gently, my tongue circling that sweet bundle of nerves.
She melts forward against the counter, her body boneless, completely at my mercy.
I lick her deeper, thicker pressure, firmer strokes, letting her warmth gather on my tongue.
She’s trembling already, her body humming with tension.
I spit softly against her pussy, warm and wet, and then my fingers slide into her.
Two at first, slow, then deeper, curling just right.
She clenches around me, tight as a fist, as if her body was made to hold us.
“Jesus, Parker…” I mutter against her skin, my voice vibrating against her clit. “Always so fucking perfect.”
Her breath breaks, thighs starting to shake, hips rocking in small, desperate movements. She’s right on the edge, begging for more. And then I stop.
I pull my fingers out slowly, savoring her whine of protest, the soft, helpless sound that shoots straight through me. She tries to push her hips back toward my mouth, but I palm her ass, giving it a firm smack that makes her gasp.
“Not yet,” I murmur, rising to my feet. Her knees give a little as I line myself up behind her, gripping her hips. And then I thrust into her, one driving stroke that buries me to the base, punching a cry out of her throat.
She’s so tight around me I have to brace both hands on her hips to keep from coming immediately.
I sink into her slowly at first—deep, steady thrusts that let me feel the full, hot slide of her body gripping mine.
Her tightness drags along every inch of me, slow and molten, like she’s trying to pull me deeper with nothing but the strength of her cunt.
Her breath stumbles, catching on a soft, broken sound that shoots straight down my spine. Her fingers stretch across the marble, nails scraping faint lines into the polished surface as her body arches, offering me more. Opening for me. Reaching for me.
Her back curves like a bowstring pulled taut, the faint glow from the nightlight sketching light across the dip of her spine. I fist a handful of her hair, feeling the silk of it against my knuckles, and guide her gaze upward—toward the blurred reflection in the dark shower glass.
“Look at yourself,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, my voice a low, rough drag of heat. “Look at how beautifully you take me.”
Her reflection trembles. Her mouth falls open, lips looking kiss-bruised, wet, inviting.
Her cheeks flush a glowing pink that spreads down her throat.
Her eyes—half-lidded, heavy with lust—watch herself come undone on my cock.
And fuck, the sight of her like this… ruined, wanting, clinging to the counter just to stay upright…
it hits me so hard I have to breathe through it.
She is devastating. She is mine. She is everything.
I let go of her hair long enough to spread her open with my palm, thumbs gliding along the crease of her ass. I lean in, slow and deliberate, letting her feel my breath before the wet heat of my spit drops directly onto her tight rim.
She shudders—sharp, violent, whole-body shudders that shake her from shoulders to knees.
The sound she makes is almost a whimper, vibrating through me, settling somewhere primal and incandescent in my chest. I circle my thumb through the slick warmth, spreading it gently at first, massaging it in slow, coaxing motions.
Her muscles tense, then loosen—her body recognizing the touch, yielding to it, seeking more pressure instead of shying away.
She pushes back against me without hesitation.
“Good girl…” I breathe, letting the praise roll out of me unfiltered, low and deep in my throat.
When she softens fully—when I feel that moment her body invites the stretch—I ease my thumb inside her. Slow. Controlled. No shock, no pain, just a deep, filling glide that makes her breath splinter apart into ragged pieces.
Her entire body goes rigid for a heartbeat. Then she melts around me—her ass gripping my thumb, her pussy clamping so hard on my cock I have to grit my teeth to keep from losing it right then.
“Fuck…” I hiss, my voice shaking with restraint.
I find a rhythm—thrusting my cock and working my thumb in slow, perfect sync.
Deep strokes, smooth and relentless, gliding through the slickness I’ve coaxed from both places.
Every movement draws new sounds from her—gasping whimpers, choked moans that echo off the tile, the kind of sounds she never makes unless she’s right on that line between too much and not enough.
Her knees start to shake. Her hips tremble. Her thighs clench and release with every thrust. And then she begins to move with me—meeting my pace, grinding back, taking me deeper, harder, like her body suddenly remembers exactly how much of me it can handle.
“Cal—please—I’m—” Her voice fractures, thin and needy.
“I know, angel,” I whisper, sliding my free hand between her thighs until my fingers find her slippery, swollen clit. “I’ve got you.”
Her whole body jolts. Her breath breaks on a sob. I pull my thumb out of her slowly, savoring the way she tightens in protest, then press the thick head of my cock to her ass. She clenches instinctively, her body trying to brace, trying to hold on.
I ease the fingers on her clit into slow, soft circles. “There you go…” I murmur, feeling the tension shift under my hand. “Just breathe. You’re perfect. I’ve got you.”
Her resistance melts—dissolving under pleasure, not force—and she exhales a shaky, surrendering sound that goes straight to my fucking soul. I push into her ass slowly. Deeply. Letting her feel every millimeter of the stretch, every throb of my cock, every shift of my hips.
She trembles violently, hands clutching the counter so tight her knuckles pale. Her head drops forward as her body adjusts around the fullness—my cock claiming her from behind while my fingers circle her clit, coaxing her open, guiding her through it.
When I’m fully inside—buried to the hilt, surrounded by every trembling inch of her—I wrap my arm around her front and take her throat gently in my hand.
I pull her back against me, her spine flush to my chest, her hips held in place by my grip.
My other hand keeps working her clit in slow, mesmerizing circles.
Her entire body becomes a single trembling line of pleasure—tense, shaking, overwhelmed in the most perfect way. “Cal… Cal—oh my God—”
I start to move—deep thrusts that rock through both of us, my fingers matching every snap of my hips in a rhythm that drives her higher and higher. Her breath breaks first. Then her voice. Then her body.
She comes undone violently—her orgasm hitting so hard it rips a cry out of her that fills the room.
Her entire body convulses, her ass squeezing me tight, her thighs trembling uncontrollably, her pussy fluttering wildly against my fingers.
In the reflection—barely visible but unmistakable—I see her arch, see her legs buckle, see her entire body surrender to pleasure that looks like it’s tearing her apart.
And that sight… That sight destroys me. My spine tingles.
My cock throbs deep inside her. My balls tighten hard, the pressure hot and primal.
I groan into her shoulder as I come—thick pulses spilling deep into her ass, my grip tightening around her throat just enough to keep her upright as pleasure drags through me in a slow, consuming wave.
Her body milks me, trembling around me even as her aftershocks ripple through her.
We stay like that for a few minutes longer—joined everywhere, breath tangled, hearts racing in the same bruised rhythm—while the world outside us goes still.
She tilts her head back, seeking my mouth, and I kiss her—deep, slow, reverent.
I keep myself inside her, holding her close, giving us both this moment before reality pulls her away tomorrow.
Just a few more minutes. Just us. Just like this.