Chapter 17
seventeen
CALLAN
The ties were the best idea I’ve had in my entire life.
I’m watching her confidence grow with every passing second, every small shift, and every glance.
She’s unlocking a new layer of herself right in front of me, and I can’t look away.
There’s a fire in her eyes, and I’ve got a front-row seat to the show.
She’s swallowing my cock like it’s her last meal, and I’m about to shoot my load down her pretty little throat if she doesn’t quit.
“Bree,” I manage to croak out between gritted teeth. “You’re killing me.”
She eases back slightly, looking up at me like an angel with her perfect lips wrapped around my cock. I have to shut my eyes. This image alone would be enough to do it for me.
She won’t be getting any further direction from me. She needs this control. She’s calling the shots, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
She releases me slowly, her eyes sparkling with desire. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
She shifts, straddling my hips and teasing me. I want nothing more than to thrust into her tight heat, but I won’t move. I need to let her take what she wants.
She leans down, her hair cascading around us like a curtain, and captures my lips in a searing kiss. I can taste myself on her tongue, and it only fuels the fire burning inside me.
“Callan,” she breathes, my name a prayer on her lips. “I need you.”
Those three little words nearly undo me.
There’s no more doubt in her touch, no hesitation in the way she moves with me. She’s not asking for permission anymore; she’s telling me what she wants, and she’s damn sure of it.
“Are you sure?” I whisper, my voice rough with the need to hear her say it one more time, to see it in her eyes.
Even as I ask, I know the answer. She’s ready. I’m going to make sure she knows that I’ll never rush her, but that she can take whatever she needs from me, whenever she wants.
She responds by reaching for the ties binding my wrists, her fingers deftly working the knots loose. As the restraints fall away, I flex my hands, relishing the freedom. I don’t move. Not yet.
I’m waiting for her to tell me, in her own way, that this is the moment. When she looks at me, her lips parted, I know. She’s taking control in a way that I’ve never seen before.
Bree takes my hands in hers, guiding them to her hips as she positions herself over me. The heat of her core hovers tantalizingly close. Anticipation thrums through every nerve in my body.
She’s teasing me, dragging out every second as she sinks down onto me, gripping me tight. A guttural moan tears from my throat as I’m consumed by her, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.
She begins to move in a slow, sensual rhythm that’s both torturous and divine. Her hands splay across my chest as she rises and falls, taking me deeper with each downward motion. I’m lost in the sight of her above me, a goddess in her own right.
“Bree,” I groan, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. “You feel so fucking perfect.”
A smile plays at the corners of her lips. She knows the effect she has on me and the power she wields right now. And god, does she wield it well.
Her pace quickens, hips rolling and circling, driving me closer to the edge with every stroke. The tension coils tighter in my core, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.
“That’s a good fucking girl. Taking my cock like it was made for you.”
Her eyes fly open, a raging inferno of need beneath them. This sweet lass has a thing for praise, it seems.
My hands map every curve and dip of her body, committing it all to memory. I want to savor every second of this, every gasp and moan that falls from her lips. She’s a vision above me, her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, her eyes half lidded with pleasure.
“Callan,” she pants, her nails digging into my skin. “I’m close.”
Those words spur me into action. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her flush against me. The change in angle draws a sharp cry from her throat, her head falling back in ecstasy.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my lips skimming the sensitive skin there. “You’ve got me so deep, love. Take what you need. Use me.”
Her back arches, pushing her perky tits forward. I can’t resist leaning down to capture a nipple between my lips, sucking and teasing with my tongue.
She whimpers, her rhythm faltering, and with a breathless cry, she shatters in my arms, clenching around me like a vise. The sensation is almost too much and threatens to pull me over the edge with her.
I hold her tight as she rides out the waves of her release, whispering praises into her skin. “That’s it, love. You’re so beautiful like this.”
She locks eyes with me, pure ecstasy written across her face, and whatever restraint I had left shatters.
There’s no holding back. Not when she looks at me like that.
With one final thrust, I spill myself inside her, my release hitting me like a tidal wave.
I bury my face in her neck, muffling my groans against her sweat-slicked skin as the aftershocks course through me.
Bree clings to me, her body still trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
For a long moment, we stay tangled together in a way that feels too perfect. Her body presses against mine, warm and soft, and I swear, I could stay here forever, just breathing her in.
Then slowly, almost reluctantly, Bree lifts her head from my shoulder. Her eyes find mine, and for a heartbeat, everything goes still. She’s stripped bare before me, but it’s not just her body. It’s her heart. And that takes my breath away.
She’s trusting me. Completely. And the importance of that settles with a fierce protective instinct. Her trust is a precious gift, and I vow that I’ll never betray it.
Her fingers trail lightly over my chest, and I lift a hand, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my thumb brushing the curve of her jaw.
“You okay?”
She nods, but the look in her eyes says more than words ever could. This isn’t about what just happened. It’s about us. What we are. What we could be.
I cup her face, letting my forehead rest against hers. “I’ve got you, Bree,” I whisper.
Gently, I shift us, guiding her down until we’re lying side by side, limbs tangled in the sheets. Bree moves with me easily, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
After a minute, she props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in waves around her face. She looks down at me with a shy smile. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I study her, trying to catch a glimpse of the thoughts swirling behind her eyes. “For what, love?”
She hesitates for just a second before answering, her voice barely above a whisper. “For this.” She pauses, then adds with a softness that makes my heart ache, “For knowing what I needed, even when I didn’t.”
And just like that, I’m gone.
That one sentence hits harder than anything. Cracks right through the steel trap I keep bolted around my feelings.
She’s right. I did know. And it’s not because I’m some emotionally intuitive saint. I’m not. Hell, I’m probably the last guy anyone expects to be composed, or patient, or tuned in.
But I’ve been paying attention. Every single day.
We’ve been a world apart, in different continents, time zones, and still, she became the one person I couldn’t go a day without hearing from. Sometimes it was ten minutes. Sometimes an hour. Sometimes just a text that made me laugh in the middle of a brutal day.
Those calls and texts became the best part of my day. I didn’t realize until just now, hearing those words slip from her lips, how much I’ve come to need them. To need her.
I’m in love with her.
It’s not just affection or loyalty or the protective instinct that kicks in when she’s hurting. It’s all of it. The way she sees the world, and herself—so damn brave, even when she’s doubting everything.
It’s love, and it’s wrecking me.
The thing about me is, I don’t just say those kinds of words. Not unless I know they won’t unravel everything. This is something I don’t want to mess up.
So instead of saying everything that’s climbing up my throat, I just look at her.
She’s not doing anything spectacular. No grand gesture, no big smile. She’s just there, being honest, being her. I want to take her face in my hands and tell her she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That I’d tear apart the damn planet if it meant keeping her safe.
But I don’t. Instead, I let my hand brush against her cheek, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “You don’t have to thank me for that, love,” I whisper, my heart pounding. “I’ll always give you what you need.”
Her lips part slightly, a question hanging in the air, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she watches me with an unreadable expression. Then, after a beat, she leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of my mouth.
I tilt my head, not wanting to leave it at that. I catch her lips fully, deepening the kiss just enough to make sure she knows that this isn’t only about tonight or the way she fits against me like she was always meant to be here.
It’s about her.
Always has been.