Chapter 17 Callie #2
His lips landed on my jaw which didn’t seem to deter him. His tongue came out, tracing a path down my neck, but he was stopped by my hoodie. I felt his smile against my jaw as my breath hitched.
“I don’t think you’re ready to find out what I’d do if you don’t.” He lifted off me, staring down while I returned his gaze.
I should move—strip like he said—but my limbs were frozen. Being in his bed, smelling that familiar intoxicating scent he always carried, was overwhelming me. It had a hint of leather mixed in now, and I wished I hated it, but I didn’t.
There was a warning in Wes’s eyes as he watched me lie motionless under him.
I knew I’d likely regret what happened next, but there was also a small piece of me that wanted to curl into this moment, like a voyeur just watching from a dark spot in my mind.
There would always be that little girl who found refuge in his treehouse, and that same girl eventually realized the peace wasn’t the space, but the person.
Wes calmed all the storms, so if he wanted to raise a little hell then I’d wanted to be on the receiving end.
His lips returned to my skin, marking me in new ways that felt feverish.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, River.” His voice was rough against my stomach as he shoved my hoodie up.
His touch was a thing I’d been starved for, and I wanted to indulge, even if I knew it wasn’t smart. Even if this would tear at the scar along my heart. Which is why when my leggings were tugged down, I didn’t protest.
Hot breath washed over my mound as Wes slipped the silky underwear down my hips, stopping at my thighs.
My sex was completely exposed to him, and with my fists clenching the sheets, I didn’t care.
I wanted all barriers gone so I could lift my leg, toss it over his shoulder, and grind into him.
His hands slid under my ass, pulling me until his nose was hovering over my slit.
With those eyes on me, his tongue slowly traced down my center.
I was already wet, and as soon as he pried me open, he moaned as if he'd just tasted the proof.
His teeth scraped against my clit, forcing my breathing to become labored, my chest heaving.
I needed more, but I knew if I asked, or begged, he’d get exactly what he wanted.
This was him delivering a punishment for not obeying him.
He knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him if he did this, so I kept my fingers out of that thick hair and gripped the sheets instead.
Flattening his tongue, he lapped at my clit in slow strokes, which had my thighs clenching the sides of his face, and a whimper cascading up through my chest. Smiling against my thigh, he repeated the movement, torturing me with the tip of his tongue.
He swirled and circled, drawing out gasps and moans from me.
I was nearly there when Wes suddenly stopped and removed his mouth from me completely.
I opened my eyes to see where he’d gone, but all I caught was sculpted muscle, shadows vying for space along his torso as he stood and stared down at me with a predatory gaze.
I should take the opportunity and stop him, but my tongue was tied with need, nearly about to combust if he didn’t finish what he’d started.
So, when he grinned wickedly at me and then gripped me roughly by the hips to turn me face down, I didn’t object.
The roughness of the sheet against my face somehow added to the hollow need aching between my legs.
I was desperate for his touch in whatever form it might come.
A light slap landed on my ass, followed by a soothing stroke and a low sound from his throat.
“How are you still so perfect?”
I tried to look over my shoulder, but his hand came out and held my face firm against the mattress.
“Hands above your head, Callie.”
I did as he said, too desperate for his touch to argue. My fingers dug into the sheets above me, and then my knees were guided up.
I could only track him in my periphery now that my hands were in front of me, but it must not have been enough for him because he pushed my hoodie down until it was over my arms and covering my face.
I could still breathe, but I couldn’t see anything.
The thrill of not being able to visualize what he was doing shot straight to my core, making my hips move backward.
Another slap landed on my ass as he chided me.
“No moving, just sit there with your ass up. Let me play.”
I tried to hold still, but the space between my thighs was wet, my core ached, and I needed him to touch me.
With a firm grip, he spread me wide and made a groaning sound before dragging his finger along the sensitive hole there. Teasing the tightness, he played for moments before slipping lower. I cut out a sharp breath at how intrusive his fingers were, but the friction was divine.
“Soaked, Callie. Fucking soaked,” he rasped quietly before pressing a kiss there.
My hips rocked against his mouth, desperate for contact, when his mouth left me again.
“You’re not listening very well.” Another slap landed, followed by another, certain to turn my ass red. But I was so turned on that all I could do was moan.
He laughed before returning his mouth to my pussy. He was sloppy, licking and sucking, making a mess of my crack while his thumb found a place over my tight hole and three of his fingers sank into my cunt.
“Oh fuck.” My voice was muffled by the bed, and out of desperation my hand left the space above me and went to hold my cheek, so he had more room to pleasure me.
But of course, he stopped completely when I did.
Frustrated, I argued, “I’m just trying to help!”
With a slap to my ass, he replied, “I don’t need your help. What I need is you to come on my fingers, but since you can’t follow instructions, maybe I should just let you stay like this while I go shower, and maybe by the time I’m out, you’ll have forgotten about your need for release.”
If he didn’t make me come, I was going to die. This much, I knew. I was shaking from how badly I needed it.
“Please,” I begged, hopelessly.
This dominant side of Wes had always flirted with coming out when we were together, but seeing it in full force was such a rush.
“Let me make you come first.”
He paused, but his fingers swiped at my wetness, wiping the mess over the red marks he’d created with his punishing slaps.
“You want to make me come first?” he asked, curiously.
I tried to lift my face, but his hand was there holding me down.
“Yes, I’ll make you come first, then you can finish me.”
He laughed, tracing a line down my spine.
“Fine, sure, come make me come, Callie.”
I hated that it suddenly rubbed me wrong that he wasn’t calling me River, but I pushed it down as he adjusted himself, sitting on the edge of the bed. He finally let me up, and I saw that his jeans were down, his cock pulled out.
My mouth went dry as I crawled off the bed and fell to the floor in front of him.
I’d forgotten how massive he was. He wasn’t insanely long, but he was thick, so fucking thick.
Kneeling in front of him, I wrapped my fist around his base, my fingers barely touching as I leaned forward and took the tip of his smooth head into my mouth. Wes hissed, shoving my hair off my face. I went down far enough that I gagged and then released him, only to lick the head once more.
“Take this off,” Wes ordered, tugging on my hood.
I did as he said, pulling the sweatshirt over my head. I was about to go back down on him, but he stopped me again.
“Let me look at you.”
I froze, my glistening mouth parted as I sat back on my heels. My underwear had slid down my legs when I got up, so I was just in my tank top, which was skintight and boosted my boobs, so there was ample cleavage.
With a needy whisper, Wes had another demand. “Take it all off.”
It was so quiet in his room that part of me wished he’d turn on the television or some music, anything to make it less obvious that this was our first time together since our breakup.
I did as he said, slowly tugging the tank up and freeing my breasts. I sat there while pinching my nipples between my fingers, letting him see me.
Without looking into my eyes, he gripped his shaft and began jerking his wrist, his hand sliding up and down his length.
He was touching himself while watching me, and it was a thrill, but I wanted more.
I wanted to taste him as he’d tasted me.
My hair tickled my heels as I tilted my head back and moaned with pleasure as I rolled my nipples between my fingers.
With something deep rumbling in his chest, he pulled me forward. “Now wrap those lips around me.”
I did with a moan, hot from being naked with him and having him hard and already dripping for me.
I gripped the sides of his thighs as I bobbed up and down on his hardness, the taste of him coating my mouth but not filling it.
I wanted him to combust, lose himself, and more than anything, I needed him to watch as I sucked every drop down.
Right as he began to buck his hips, meeting me move for move, he suddenly gripped my jaw, his thumb pushing down on my bottom lip.
“That’s enough,” he rasped with a heaving chest.
I popped free of him, watching as he clenched his jaw, staring over at his closet, almost as if he couldn’t stand to look at me.
I sat with my hands on his thighs, confused.
“But you didn’t—”
He abruptly stood, tucking his hard-on back into his jeans, cutting me off.
“Realized I didn’t need to after all.”
Heat began to creep up my neck. I was naked, on the floor, while my ex literally stopped his blowjob simply because he couldn’t stand my mouth on him. Frustration burned under my skin. Why go this far with me, only to reject me at the last minute?
“Is this part of me not liking what you’d do if I didn’t obey your rules about sleeping in your bed?”
It didn’t feel like that. His threat from earlier felt playful, sexual…this was different.