24. Callum
Callum
I’ve never kissed anyone the way I kiss Winifred.
It’s not just physical—it’s like an addiction that gets its hooks into you from the first taste.
Her mouth is warm, sweet, and intoxicating, and I could stand here until the sun comes up doing nothing but drinking her in and still never feel like I’ve had enough.
My hands grip her waist, guiding her backward until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress.
We tumble down onto the unmade sheets together, my weight settling over her, not breaking the kiss for a single second.
I shift, my lips trailing down the soft line of her jaw to the sensitive dip beneath her ear, making her let out a breathy sigh.
My palm slides up the side of her ribbed dress, my fingers cupping her breast through the knit fabric. I knead her gently, my thumb tracing over the distinct, firm bump of her nipple piercing, and she lets out a sharp, ragged gasp that hitches in her throat.
“How much time do you think we have?” I murmur into the warm skin of her neck.
“Enough,” she pants, her fingers digging into the shoulders of my sweater.
I take my other hand and cup her cheek, tilting her face up as I lick and suck a slow path down her throat, listening to the small, soft sounds she makes in the quiet room. “Tell me what you want, Win. Where do you want me?”
I drag my lips back up to her ear, my voice dropping to a low rasp. “In your mouth? Between your legs? Inside you?”
“In my mouth,” she breathes without a second of hesitation.
I groan, her words shooting straight to my gut. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Before I can take her mouth again, her hands press against my chest, pushing me up just enough to create an inch of space between us. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her lips flushed a deep berry red.
“Hold that thought,” she says, her voice thick and raspy. “I need to go lock the door. As much as Delphi loves me, it’d be a little awkward if housekeeping walked in on me giving you a blowjob.”
I huff out a disbelieving laugh and let her up. “Fair point.”
“Pants off, McKinley,” she instructs, sliding off the mattress and scurrying toward the oak door.
“Yes, ma’am,” I mutter, the clank of my belt buckle echoing through the room as I strip off my boots, unbutton my denim, and push my jeans and briefs down my legs in one fluid motion.
I hear the heavy deadbolt click into place.
When Winifred turns around, her hands are busy unzipping her beige snakeskin boots, kicking them off near the entryway.
But the second her eyes land on me lying back on the bed, completely bare from the waist down, her breath hitches.
Her eyes widen, taking in how hard and ready I am for her, before a wicked smirk curves her lips.
She saunters back toward the bed. “Everything off,” she commands softly.
I smirk back at her, reaching back to pull my sweater over my head and tossing it onto the floor, leaving myself completely bare to her gaze.
“Good boy,” she purrs.
She doesn’t waste another second, dropping gracefully to her knees right in front of me on the rug.
She reaches out, her hands gripping my hips as she leans in, pressing her face straight against my lower stomach, trailing her tongue down over my skin to press lingering, warm bites near my hipbones.
Her hand slides down, her warm fingers cupping the base of my sac, massaging gently. The sensation is so intense my hips twitch forward on instinct, a guttural groan tearing out of my chest. My hands fly out to grip the wooden bedpost behind me, my knuckles turning white.
“Jesus, Win,” I growl, my head falling back toward the ceiling.
She lets out a quiet chuckle against my skin, her long, manicured nails lightly scraping up the insides of my thighs, making my whole body twitch in response.
I look down at her through heavy eyelids. Kneeling at my feet, with her dark hair spilling over her bare back and the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp reflecting in her eyes, she looks so fucking beautiful it takes the air right out of my lungs.
“You like that?” she asks softly, looking up at me through her lashes while her hand wraps around the base of my shaft, her thumb rubbing a slow, perfect stroke up to the head.
“You know I fucking do,” I rasp out, my voice completely shot. “Don’t tease me, Rowley.”
“Who’s teasing?” she murmurs, her thumb swirling right over the crown, spreading the clear bead of pre-cum resting at the tip before she leans forward and greedily licks it away with the flat of her tongue.
I throw my head back again, letting out a loud groan. “Fuck…do that again.”
“Do what again?” she asks, her hand starting a slow stroke down my length, twisting her wrist just slightly at the top to hit every nerve ending.
“Don’t play dumb,” I growl, looking back down to glare at her with no real heat in it, my chest heaving. “More.”
Winifred stops her hand mid-stroke, a pure, mischievous grin spreading across her face. “More what?”
“Win…”
“I want to hear you beg, Callum.”
I look down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her sparkling eyes, and her fingers hovering just a millimeter over my skin while she kneels between my legs.
“More, please,” I rasp out, holding her gaze. “More of you, Freddie.”
That satisfies her. A victorious smile touches her lips, and she happily obliges. She leans forward, opening her mouth and sliding the heavy head of my dick past her lips, taking me in bit by bit.
Standing over her like this, the heat of her mouth is absolute torture in the best possible way.
Her tongue swirls around the underside of the shaft while her hand stays anchored at the base, working in a steady, synchronized rhythm that has my hips rolling forward to chase the feeling.
I reach down, my hand lacing into the silky thick waves of her hair—not to push her, but just to steady myself, completely mesmerized by the view of her taking me so effortlessly.
“Fuck, Win,” I pant out, my breath coming in short, ragged hitches as I look down at her. “You look so fucking beautiful like this. My mouth is stuffed full of you, and you look…a little evil, to be honest. And so gorgeous.”
She pulls back just enough for the wet crown of my shaft to pop past her lips, eyes beaming up at me with delight. “I feel prettiest when I look a little evil.”
Before I can even reply, she flicks the tip of her tongue in a circle right over the head, sending a white-hot spark straight down my spine. Then she opens wide and takes me right back into the heat of her mouth.
I can’t hold back anymore. My hands tighten in her hair, and I start to thrust. The wet, slick sound of her mouth paired with her muffled moans fills the room, ricocheting off the floral wallpaper and brass lamps. I hope to God no one’s checked out the rooms on either side of us.
“Fuck, just like that,” I pant as my hips move into her. “Take it, Win. Good girl. Look at you…taking every fucking inch of me so pretty.”
My hips push forward a fraction too far, hitting the back of her throat, and she lets out a tight little yelp around me. I pause for half a second, my thumb softly stroking the side of her jaw.
“You’re okay,” I growl softly. “You’re doing so fucking well, pretty girl.”
She responds by humming around my length, her hands wrapping tighter around the backs of my thighs, pulling me in deeper. I give her a few more hard thrusts, the pleasure coiling so tight in my lower belly that my vision starts to blur around the edges.
“Win…fuck, I’m gonna come,” I warn, my voice starting to go to shit. I start to pull back, not wanting to mess up her dress or catch her off guard, but her hands slide up to lock around my hips, shaking her head against me as she pulls me right back in.
“Fuck,” I choke out. The dam breaks. I spill into her mouth, my fingers knotting tightly into her hair to hold myself upright as my body rides out the intense, rolling waves of it. “Fuck, Win…fuck…”
She doesn’t pull away for a single second. I watch through heavily dazed eyes as her throat works, swallowing as much as she can, her eyes locked onto mine the entire time.
When she finally lets me slide free from her lips, a proud, satisfied smile spreads across her flushed face. There’s a small glistening bead of cum resting at the corner of her lower lip, looking so impossibly hot it snaps my brain right back into high gear.
My chest is heaving, my heart trying to soar right out of my chest. Watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, I realize kissing her isn’t going to cut it anymore.
I need to be inside her, right now. I need to feel her wrapped around me until neither of us can tell where she ends and I begin.
I reach down, hooking my fingers under her arms to pull her up from the floor. She comes up easily, her face flushed and her eyes filled with the same wrecked hunger I know is written all over mine.
My fingers fumble with the delicate fabric of her dress at her hip, trying to find a zipper, a clasp, anything. “How do I get this fucking dress off?”
Winifred giggles, the soft sound vibrating against my jaw as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Careful. You can’t rip this one. I kind of need to be clothed for dinner.”
“Fuck it,” I say, abandoning the search for a zipper entirely. I reach down, grab the hem from the bottom, and haul the whole thing up over her head in one smooth, impatient pull, tossing the dress somewhere toward the armchair.
When the dress clears, my breath catches hard in my throat. My mouth nearly salivates at the sight of her standing there in just a tiny, creamy lace thong that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.
“Christ, Win,” I growl, pulling her tight against me.