Page 106 of Thin Lives

He wanted to fuck her longer—deeper and harder. Fuck her until every single one of her sounds were forever imprinted on his memories. Until the feel of her skin was painted on his own flesh. Until the sights of her under him, over him, beside him, were the only things he could see when he closed his eyes. He wanted to taste her on his tongue every time he took a drink. He wanted to smell her in the air all around him.

He never wanted to forget her again.

He shouldn’t have forgotten her in the first place.

So, he did.

Fucked her harder, to the point that his own muscles ached and protested.

Fucked her until her cries came out hoarse and broken.

Fucked her with his hands on her throat, buried in her hair, and raking down her skin.

He sucked her fingers clean after she toyed with her clit while he fucked her from behind and she was bent over the footboard. He buried two of his fingers knuckle deep into her ass when she begged for more, just to make her scream louder when she came the first time.

And when she came that first time, Calisto swore he saw fucking God in her face.

It was heaven for him.

A blissfully sinful, familiar heaven.

Breathless, soft, needy sounds crawled from her throat with every stroke of his cock inside her clenching, wet pussy. Every drag made his muscles tighten a little more, and his breaths came out feeling thicker.

Her whispers were everything that haunted his dreams when she wasn’t there.

There, Cal and Like that, just like that.

Make it hurt and Fuck me raw.

Calisto almost wished their first time together after so long was a little slower, a bit softer between them. He wondered if taking his time would have made a difference, but he doubted it.

He couldn’t control the need burrowing deep into his very soul to fill her full, hold her down, and make her scream. Because that’s what Emma liked—that’s what he needed.

They could do soft and slow another time.

There would be more—he’d make sure of it.

Calisto released the hold he had on Emma’s hair, instead grabbing the back of her neck and keeping her pinned down to the bed. He knew every punishing thrust was sending her thighs straight into the hard metal of the footboard, but her profile was a mask of pleasure. His other hand palmed her ass, and he grabbed tight, spreading her open a little more.

He loved the sight beneath him.

Her pink folds—wet and hot.

His cock—bare and slick.

She twisted and shuddered under him when he teased the tight hole of her ass with the tip of his finger again.

“This is all mine,” he told her, a tremor rocking through his words. “Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, and your body. I fuck you like this—nobody else. You shake for me, baby. You get wet for me. You beg me. It is mine, Emma. It has always been mine.”

“Y-yours,” she breathed.

Calisto sucked in a hard breath when Emma glanced over her shoulder at him, and he felt the tremors of her second orgasm begin to hug his shaft with every thrust. Usually he slowed their fucking down a bit when she came, wanting to savor every last sensation of her walls contracting around his cock. But this time … this time he picked up the pace, making sure to keep that steady, hard rhythm going as she grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets and shouted his name.

He let the constricting waves of her orgasm milk him harder and deeper into her heat.

That was all he felt.

He only heard them, and her.