“How do you feel?” he asked, his thumb moving in a slow circle over my bare skin.
“Sore.”
His eyes darkened. “Good sore or bad sore?”
“The kind of sore that makes me want you inside me again.”
His expression shifted from sleepy softness to pure hunger. A look that said I was going to get exactly what I wanted.
“Then what are you waiting for?” His voice was a low challenge, wrapped in an invitation.
He rolled to his back, taking me with him, my legs falling so that I was straddling him. The pale morning light left nothing to the imagination, and for a second, the urge to cover myself flickered through me.
“Don’t you dare hide from me.” His hands clamped down on my thighs. “I want to see every inch of you while you ride me.”
“Cal…”
“Come here.” He pulled me down for a kiss, claiming my mouth with a sweep of his tongue. His fingers slid into my hair, gripping in a way that bordered on pain but was oh so fucking right.
My hips rocked back and his cock slid through my wetness, dragging a groan out of both of us. Then his other hand was on my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples in a way that had me writhing over him.
“I think I could come just like this,” I told him, all filters gone.
“Not this time.” He moved his hand down between us, bringing his hard length to my entrance. “You’re going to come on my cock.”
I gasped as he started to push up into me, his fingers bruising my thighs. And I gave in, sinking onto him slowly—inch by gloriously thick inch.
The look on his face nearly finished me. Jaw clenched, throat working, eyes fighting to stay open. When I’d taken all of him, I held still and let us both feel the way my pussy pulsed around him.
“Jesus, Zadie. You’re close.”
“So are you,” I breathed, loving that he already knew my body so well.
“You have no fucking idea.” His voice was raw. “Move. Please.”
Please. That single word gave me more power than any position ever could.
I moved. Slowly at first, finding the angle, the rhythm. His hands stayed on my hips, guiding without controlling, letting me set the pace, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then I planted my hands on his chest and rode him harder. The sound that tore out of him was guttural, animal, and it lit me up from the inside out. His hips drove up to meet me, his grip possessive, and the slap of skin against skin filled the quiet room.
“Touch me,” I panted.
His hand slid between us and his thumb found my clit with a precision that should have been impossible for a man who’d lost his virginity eight hours ago. But this was Caleb. Patient, obsessive, and paying attention from the very first time he’d touched me.
He circled slowly, his eyes locked on my face, reading every reaction.
“Cal,” I gasped, my rhythm faltering as my limbs locked, the orgasm ripping through me.
“Fuck, yes.” He pulled me back down to him, one arm locked around my waist, his mouth at my ear. “Your pussy’s so tight when you come.”
The aftershocks were still rolling through me when he shifted, putting me on my back and slamming even deeper into me, triggering another powerful wave. The sound that left me might have been a sob or a scream. Whatever it was, I was so far gone, there was no holding it back.
He drove into me, each stroke more desperate than the last. Then he was coming, his entire body shuddering as he groaned above me.
The weight of him crushed to my side as he collapsed, his face buried in my neck. Our breathing was ragged, our skin slick, and neither of us moved.
When he finally lifted his head, I brushed the damp hair from his forehead and laughed softly. “We didn’t use a condom. Again.”
