Chapter 35
chapter
thirty-five
SHAY
Calder dragged his hand between my shoulder blades, up and down, and I drew circles on his pectoral.
“Am I…” I bit my bottom lip. “Did I taste okay?”
Once again, I hated my insecurity. Hated that I couldn’t just be cool.
“Okay?” Calder groaned. “Baby, you’re perfect. You taste so fucking good. Especially right here.” His hand slipped to my pussy, fingering a spot near the top. “You taste really fucking good right here.”
I swallowed a breath. Oh.
Calder resumed rubbing my back, and my thoughts drifted. I traced the outlines of a swirling, spiky black tattoo that stretched across the corded muscles of abs—more of an eight-pack than a six-pack.
“Was it really sanitized?” I asked.
It took a moment for him to realize what I meant, and then he laughed. The force of it shook my head up and down. And…wow. It was rough, like weathered stone, as if he didn’t laugh often.
“Yes,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “It was brand new, and I cleaned it.”
“And the coffin? How did you find the coffin?”
“My sister is a coroner. She was telling me about her day and let it slip about an error the funeral home had made.”
Huh. Interesting. I wanted to learn more about his family, but I still had pressing questions.
“What about the bone?”
“It wasn’t real.”
My fingers froze on his tattoo.
“Are you disappointed?” he asked, humor etching his words.
“Maybe,” I admitted, resuming my tracing.
Calder yawned, tapping my shoulder as he moved to get up. My gut plummeted as he left the bed, stretching his arms above his head in a way that delineated every groove and iron ridge of the muscles on his back, the dimples in his ass.
They could yawn and say, ‘I’m sleepy.’ It’s important you know they’re lying assholes and are trying to get you to leave.
Lithie’s words echoed in my head. I loathed the idea of Calder asking me to leave.
I didn’t want to leave.
But I’d known the deal from the start: no attachments.
I slowly sat up before he could ask me to leave, reaching for something to cover myself—his shirt. Fuck. That hurt.
“Okay…well, this was nice.”
Calder spun, arms still above his head like he’d been pulled. He looked from me to the shirt then back to me. He grabbed my hand, stopping me as I was about to put on his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving? You finished. We…finished.”
His eyes narrowed. Then, still standing, he tucked me into him. He was so tall, my head reached his stomach.
“Do you want to go?” he asked after a minute, voice gravelly, rumbling against my crown.
No. No, I want to stay.
“I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted,” I said instead.
He pulled back, brows caved in genuine fear. His knuckle came beneath my chin, tilting my head up to look into his eyes. “Did I make you feel unwanted?”
I wanted to look away, but it was like he knew. His grip on my chin tightened, but it was the look in his eyes that made me stop. The icy striations throbbed. Sincere. Concerned.
So I shook my head.
Calder didn’t let me go, his stare ripping into mine, as if making sure I was telling the truth. His thumb gently swiped my bottom lip, eyes darting between mine.
Then he exhaled.
“Please stay. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded, but it took him another long second to release me before he turned and went into the en suite bathroom.
I settled back into the bed, warm and nervous.
I ran my touch along the duvet. It was a deep, earthy color somewhere between clay and red rock.
His sheets matched. They were soft and luxurious, and smelled like him.
Calder came back a moment later, holding something in his hand, and my eyes dropped to his cock. Thicker than my wrist, slightly curved at the tip, veins in stark relief.
I couldn’t believe that had been inside me.
“Shay.” I tore my gaze back to his, finding an amused lilt to his red lips. “Get on your stomach.”
“What is that?” I asked, but did as I was told.
“For the bruising.” I felt the weight of him dip the mattress, and then his hands were on me. All over me. Rubbing whatever was in the tub onto my arms, my back, my thighs.
I groaned into the sheets.
It felt so good.
His hands dipped between my thighs, rubbing the inner skin. Then my ass, back down to my thighs, and back inside. That warm, cottony sensation transformed into something sharp and taut.
I lifted my head. “Calder?”
He gripped the back of my neck, gently pushing me into the covers. “You need to rest.”
I squirmed, trying to relieve some of the pressure as he continued to rub everywhere but where I needed.
I spread my thighs.
I heard a low, dark laugh.
Then Calder was on top of me, his weight heavy at my back, but not suffocating, as he was on his elbows. I felt his cock at my entrance, just as his lips warmed my ear.
“Aren’t you sore, little Maniac?”
“I don’t care.” I pressed up so he slid a little inside me. His hand came to my hip, keeping me still.
“Be good.”
“Just one more,” I practically begged. “I want to feel you.”
He slid inside me on a groan, this time gentler. His hand slid around the front of me, to my neck, lifting me in an arch off the bed. My back pressed against his chest as he drove slow and languid inside me.
The angle was deeper and I was a little sore, but Calder was being slow and gentle. He kissed the back of my neck and between my shoulder blades, biting the thin skin between them.
Calder was the biggest I’d ever had, but also the gentlest. Anytime it started to hurt, he already sensed it and slowed down. Waited for my body to adjust to him.
The orgasm rose faster than I expected. His hot, dirty words against my ear pushing me to the edge.
Fuck, you feel so good.
Your pussy is fucking perfect.
My little Maniac, you’re so fucking hot when you take my cock.
“I’m, oh god—” I broke off on a groan, reaching for the sheets. He grabbed my hand and put it to his neck.
“Don’t fight it, baby. Breathe.” Calder’s voice was rougher. Ragged. Like he was on the edge with me, barely held back from toppling over. “Come on, Shay, be a good girl and shatter on my cock.”
And that did it. I plummeted off the edge.
“Fuck,” Calder rasped, and I felt him twitch inside me.
After a moment Calder slowly slid out of me and off the bed. I flipped to my back, arms stretched above my head. Feeling like warm pudding. Jell-O. The room had gone soft again.
He pulled the condom off his cock, tossing it into a wastebasket, and then rubbed his jaw, looking down at me with a furrow in his brow.
“What?” I asked.
“Was that too much? Did we overdo it?”
“Would you be mad if we did?” I sat up, dragging the blanket back across my naked body. “If I was sick?”
“Mad at myself, little Maniac.” Calder bent over, gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I would never be upset at you.”
Another moment of deep tension passed.
This was getting serious.
Too serious.
Then he thumbed my chin and shook his head, like there was something about this he couldn’t quite believe.
“Don’t fucking move,” he commanded, grip tightening just a little.