Page 168 of Neap & Spring

I reach down and hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. He lifts his hips to help me, then he’s finally bare, and I wrap my hand around him.

He’s hot and hard and thick in my palm, and when I stroke him once, experimentally, he drops his forehead to my shoulder with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck, Vivi.”

“Yes,” I breathe against his mouth, stroking him again, feeling him pulse in my hand. “Please, yes.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine one more time, giving me a chance to change my mind. “You’re sure?”

“Callum, I’m begging you. Stop asking me that and fuck me already.”

“Such a dirty mouth.” He smirk and shifts his hips. The head of his cock is pressing against me, hot and blunt, and I’m already so wet for him it’s almost embarrassing.

Then I freeze.

“What?” His eyes find mine immediately, his whole body going still. “What’s wrong?”

“I —” My voice comes out small. “It’s been a long time. Since Paris. Since you. I haven’t — there hasn’t been anyone else.”

His expression shifts through several emotions at once. Surprise, relief, and then a tenderness so profound it makes my eyes sting.

“Vivi.” He cups my face with one hand, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “There hasn’t been anyone for me either.”

I blink up at him. “What? But you were engaged?”

“No.” He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “We never — I couldn’t. Every time she tried, I just …” He takes a shaky breath. “It was always you. In my head, in my heart. It was always you and I couldn’t —” His voice cracks slightly. “You were the last person I was with. And you’re going to be the last person I’m ever with.”

“Cal.”

“I mean it.” His forehead comes to rest against mine. “This is it for me. You’re it for me. You always have been.”

Tears spill over, running down into my hair. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He kisses me so gently. “And I’ve got you. I promise. I’ve got you.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”

“Tell me if anything hurts. If you need me to stop. If —”

“Callum.” I pull his face down to kiss him. “I need you. Please.”

He nods, and then he’s there again, pressing into me, and I breathe through it, my body opening for him, accepting him.

“Vivienne,” he breathes, and then he’s pushing in, slow and careful and perfect, watching my face the entire time.

I gasp at the stretch of him, at the fullness. It’s been so long, and he’s so thick, the sensation is overwhelming, pleasure edged with the slightest burn as my body adjusts to accommodate him.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice strained, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding still.

“So okay. Move. Please move.”

He does, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in, setting a rhythm that’s deep and teasing and absolutely devastating.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, opening myself wider, and he groans into my neck.

“Vivi. God, Vivi, baby. So perfect. So fucking perfect.”

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”