21. Freddie #3
As he maintains his punishing rhythm, his free hand slides down between my thighs, his thumb finding my swollen clit and rubbing fast, slick circles against it.
Then his hand dips further back, one long finger trailing straight down into the curve of my ass crack.
He doesn’t go any further, just drags the calloused pad of his finger up and down along the sensitive, tight seam of skin, pressing firm lines that trace the valley between my cheeks.
The friction against my bare skin paired with the heavy thrusts of his dick makes my whole body shake.
“I’m close,” I choke out, my heels digging into the floorboards as my body moves in lockstep with every punishing thrust. “Callum, I’m so close.”
“What do you need?” he pants against my ear, his broad chest slick with sweat as he pounds into me. “Tell me what to do, Win.”
I shake my head, keeping my eyes glued to his in the glass. “Just talk to me,” I gasp, my sweaty hands slipping slightly against the mirror. “Tell me…tell me all the things you like about me.”
A breathless chuckle vibrates against my shoulder. “That’s easy,” he grunts, his hands tightening on my hips.
He pulls almost all the way out before driving deep inside me again, making me gasp.
“You’re bloody gorgeous, Win,” he rasps.
“You’re so fucking smart. And funny. And something about you makes me feel a little more alive and a lot less lost. You make everything you touch better…
” He thrusts harder, the sound of slick skin slapping against skin echoing obscenely in the quiet room alongside the crackle of the hearth. “…including me. You make me better.”
His words make my throat tight. The sounds we’re making are filthy—wet, heavy, uninhibited friction filling the cold air—and it only pushes me closer to the edge.
Callum wraps one broad arm flat across my lower abdomen, spreading his fingers wide over my skin. He presses inward and lifts upward, angling my pelvis back against his dick.
“Can you feel that?” he groans into my hair. “Can you feel how fucking deep I am inside you?”
My knees buckle forward. My eyelids flutter, threatening to shut, but I force them open. I want to see him. I want to watch his eyes track every shift in my face as I completely come apart for him.
“Fuck,” I pant out, my chest heaving against the glass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
The orgasm hits like a blinding, white-hot explosion.
It starts in the core of my magic and rips outward through my nerves, sending a tremor down my legs.
My inner walls contract around him, clamping tight as a loud, breathless scream tears from my throat.
I collapse forward against the cool glass, my forehead resting against the mirror as the aftershocks roll through me in heavy waves.
In the reflection, my eyes are blown wide, my chest flushed pink, my lips parted in pure, undone bliss.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Callum rasps, his voice full of reverent praise as he feels me milk him. “Look at you. So fucking beautiful.”
Then, he loses control completely. He groans, a guttural sound from deep in his chest, his hands gripping my waist. He drives into me with hard, desperate thrusts, his balls slapping against my ass as he chases his own release.
I can still feel my body pulsing around him when he finally snaps. He buries himself as deep as he can go, his hips pinned hard against my ass, his whole body locking up as a ragged growl tears from his throat.
Then I feel it—a sudden, hot, pulsing flood deep inside me.
Having never done this without a condom before, the warmth and weight of him filling me completely is shocking.
It’s intimate, and impossibly heavy, a slick internal heat that sends a tiny, lingering shudder straight through me as he rests his forehead against the back of my shoulder, both of us struggling just to breathe.
My chest heaves against the mirror, my forehead still resting on the cool glass as the quiet settles back over the room.
“That was…” I pant out, my voice spent. I search my brain, but I can’t even come up with a real word to describe what just happened. My vocabulary has completely abandoned me.
Callum slowly eases himself back out of me with a low, unsteady exhale. The sudden emptiness stings, and almost immediately, a warm, slick stream begins to slip down the inside of my thigh.
He catches my waist to steady my shaking legs. He looks at me in the glass, his eyes soft and completely wrecked.
“Transcendent,” he whispers, his rough voice cutting through the crackle of the fireplace.
Before I can process that, he turns me around in his arms and captures my mouth in a hard, salty kiss.
When he breaks away, he doesn’t pull far.
His thumb gently hooks under my bottom lip, tugging it down just enough to open my mouth while his other hand tilts my head back.
He tilts his chin down and spits directly into my mouth, shocking me to my core.
A wicked heat flares straight down between my legs, and it terrifies me how much I actually like that.
Callum presses his lips to my throat, right over my hammered pulse, as I swallow. He pulls back to look down at me, his auburn hair messy, a slow, lazy smirk finally touching his mouth.
I look up at him, letting out a quiet laugh. “Well. I guess you’re stuck with me now, McKinley.”
Callum smiles—a real, beautiful smile—and presses one last lingering kiss to the corner of my lips.
“Win,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against mine as the firelight dances over us. “That’s more than fine by me.”