Page 108 of Grimoire Girls Expulsion

She's hot and tight and slick around my fingers. I curl them slowly and press up, and her whole body tenses. Once I find the spot that makes her gasp, I stay on it, rocking my fingers inside her and working her clit with my thumb, while with my other hand I lift her chin off my shoulder so I can see her.

"Look at me," I tell her. "Don't you dare close your eyes. I want to see all of it."

Her mouth is open, her eyes half closed and fixed on mine. I can see it building in her face—her brows drawing together, her breath going short and catching—and I've never in my life wanted to watch anything as much as I want to watch this.

My cock is so hard it hurts, trapped against my zip and leaking into my shorts, and every sound she makes pulls it tighter. The bond is too quiet to carry her pleasure into me tonight, and it doesn't matter. Watching her is enough to undo me.

She comes on my hand with her eyes open, looking right at me. Her pussy clenches around my fingers in long, hard pulses while her thighs clamp around my wrist, and she cries out, a broken sound, grabbing my forearm with both hands to keep me there. I keep my fingers moving inside her through all of it, slow and steady, until she's shaking and pushing at my wrist, gasping. Only then do I ease off.

She sags against me, and I hold her up.

"Okay," she says into my neck, once she can talk. "Okay. Your turn. Pants off, please, immediately."

I laugh. It surprises both of us—she leans back to look at me, and I can tell from her face that she hasn't heard me laugh like that in a while, maybe ever.

She gets my belt open herself and shoves my trousers and shorts down my hips. My cock springs free, and when she wraps her cool fingers around it, I hiss through my teeth. Watching my face now, the same way I watched hers, she strokes me once from root to tip, slow, then drags her thumb through the wet at the tip and spreads it down my shaft.

"Look at you," she says softly. "All that composure, and you're leaking all over my hand."

I can't say anything. When she strokes me again my hips jerk into her hand, and I have to put both hands flat on the desk on either side of her to keep my balance. She watches every bit of it, and I let her. I don't turn my face away. There's nothing in this study to hide behind, and no shadows to hide in.

"Lie back," I tell her. "I want you spread out on my desk where I can see every inch of you."

She lies back on the desk, her hair spilling across the blotter. I pull her hips to the edge. She lifts her knees, opening for me, and I line myself up and push into her, slow, all the way, while she looks right at me. Her mouth falls open. Her pussy takes me inch by inch, hot and wet and so tight around my cock that my vision goes white at the edges. I hold still inside her and make myself breathe.

"Fuck," she breathes. "Callum."

"Give me a second." It comes out rough. "You're so tight I can't think. If you move, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast."

"Can't have that." She squeezes around me on purpose.

I make a sound I've never heard myself make. She grins up at me, flushed and wicked, and doesn't look away. Neither do I.

I move in her slowly, drawing back until I'm barely inside her and then pushing in deep, watching what it does to her face. No shadow holds her wrists down this time. She holds on to my shoulders herself, wraps her legs around my waist herself, and pulls me in deeper with her heels.

"Harder," she demands. "I'm not made of glass. Fuck me like you mean it."

I give it to her harder. The desk shifts under us and something falls off the far end of it, but neither of us looks. Her breasts move with every thrust. Bracing my forearm beside her head, I get my other hand between us and rub her clit in tight circles while I fuck her, and she cries out, digging her nails into my back.

"You take me so well." My voice has gone to gravel. "So fucking well, Everly."

"Callum. Callum, don't stop⁠—"

I don't stop. I see it in her face before I feel her tighten around me: her eyes gone wide and dark, her lips parted, the flush spreading down her throat to her chest. I've never been this exposed in my life. She can see everything I'm feeling on my face, and I can't do a thing about it—and I don't want to.

She comes with her eyes open, looking at me. Her back arches off the desk, and her pussy clamps down on my cock until I groan out loud. She says my name. I see it go through her, all of it, and I don't miss any of it.

It takes me with her. My balls draw up tight, and I come with my forehead pressed against hers, buried as deep as I can get, spilling into her in long hard pulses that shake me from the spine out. I don't close my eyes either.

Afterward, I sit down in the desk chair and pull her into my lap. She curls against my chest with her knees drawn up and her head on my shoulder, both of us breathing hard and sweating, the lamp humming on the corner of the desk.

My trousers are around my ankles, her hair is wet against my neck, and the thing that fell turns out to be my black notebook, splayed open on its face on the floor at the far end of the desk.

"You knocked over your notebook."

"You knocked over my notebook."

"I think it was kind of a joint effort." She lifts one hand and touches the edge of the bandage on my cheek with one finger, very lightly. "Does it hurt?"