“Oh yeah, God—Seb!”
“Ask for it,” I ordered before pulling back and giving one hard thrust forward.
“Take my ass! Oh God! Please, make a mess on me?”
I maneuvered down low and kissed Calvin’s mouth. “Good boy,” I whispered.
“Fuck. Sebastian,” he moaned, then kissed me back hard.
I pressed my forehead to Calvin’s and sped up my motions when I felt that telltale prickle start along my spine. I took as much pleasure as I could stand in that moment, savoring the last few thrusts into that perfect heat that slid around me like a glove, but I was ready to bust, and the thought of jacking off over Calvin’s chest was driving me insane.
I pulled out, quickly tugged the condom off, and tossed it somewhere I’d later regret. I put a knee between Calvin’s legs and got closer before pumping myself hard. “You’re so good,” I said, looking down at him.
Calvin’s body was splayed out. His skin had taken on a darker shade that I knew was a flush against his usually pale complexion, his lips were swollen from kisses, and in general looking gorgeously fucked and happy about it.
“Can I touch myself?” he asked quietly.
“Not until I finish,” I answered.
Calvin made a sound that was very much arousal and not frustration. He reached up and grabbed my hips, holding me above him. “Come on,” he purred. “Paint my chest.”
And I couldn’t hold back another second. I came hard, left breathless in the aftermath. I looked down to see ropes of my own cum glistening in Calvin’s chest hair, and damn if it wasn’t the hottest image I’d seen in a long time.
“I need to finish,” Calvin begged.
“Go ahead,” I managed to say between pants.
Calvin reached down and quickly jerked himself off, coming after just a few tugs. If he could have gotten any more limp and sated-looking afterward, he managed it. “My toes curled,” he finally stated.
I got down and gently kissed his lips. “That good?”
He chuckled airily. “Yes.” Calvin tilted his head and smiled as he reached up to comb hair back from my forehead. “Thank you. You’re absolutely perfect.”
My chest tightened. Instead of making a stupid joke or sarcastic remark, I simply said, “I love you, Cal.”
CALVIN KISSEDthe top of my head.
I grumbled and turned away, hugging my pillow. If he was awake, that meant it was morning, and I was having none of that right now.
“Rise and shine.”
“No,” I muttered.
I heard Calvin laugh as he got up from the bed. He moved around the room, steps muffled by the plush carpet. The sound of plastic crinkled, and when I opened my eyes, there was something huge, blurry, and pretty-smelling being thrust at me.
“What… the hell?” I grumbled, sitting up.
“Sorry.” Calvin handed over my glasses with his other hand. “You’ll need these.”
I put them on and blinked the sleep from my eyes. Then I saw what Calvin had been holding in front of him: a huge bouquet of flowers. I must have looked confused.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he stated. “I realized I don’t know your favorite flower—but I remembered the first night we talked about the Andrews case together, you had a bouquet of carnations… so….” He glanced down at the flowers in his hand and shrugged lightly.
It was at least two dozen carnations, all wrapped carefully in heavy plastic to hold them in place and tied with a big bow. The shades of gray varied, so I assumed they were quite colorful.
“When did you get these?” I asked.
“This morning, while you were asleep.”
