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The last thing I wanted to do was rest, what with my thoughts running around like hyperactive hamsters on a wheel, but I also felt exhausted. I let Cal lead me to his bedroom—a place I had never been before, despite daydreaming about it plenty as a teenager—and we all but collapsed onto the bed. I clung to him like he was a buoy in a raging sea, like if I let go, I’d drown.
But Cal would never let me drown.
He pulled my clothes off slowly, even as I tried to speed it up. “Shh,” he told me. He kissed me again and again, until I began to relax in spite of myself. “We have time, darling.”
I had never imagined someone calling me something like darling. In all honesty, I’d thought it a nickname that was a little… over the top. A bit sappy. But when Cal said it, it sounded so natural.
He kissed me slowly all over, like he didn’t want to leave a single inch of my skin untouched by his mouth. Little by little, I began to relax, and yet it didn’t feel any less intense for it. I was feeling… worshipped, honestly, and it was like being swept in by the ocean, overwhelmed, drowning. But I welcomed it. I had never imagined that I could ever feel this way, that anyone could ever want to be this way for me—but Cal did. At every turn, he was surprising me with new ways to make me feel his love and devotion.
He pulled my breasts into his mouth, nipped at my stomach, and licked into the core of me, until my thighs were draped over his shoulders and I was gripping the bedsheets tightly, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hot tongue and fingers inside of me. “I’m coming,” I warned him, but he didn’t stop, he just kept going—and kept going. It was like he was determined to make me come as many times as possible, like he had some kind of point to prove about how much he wanted me to be pleasured.
After the second time I came, shaking and sobbing, my eyesight completely blurry, he retreated a bit, kissing up and down my thighs, soothing me. His fingers stroked my stomach, and I felt incredibly held. Cherished.
“You look so beautiful when you come,” he admitted, his voice a bit hoarse. He massaged my thighs and I sighed into his touch. I was so relaxed after coming twice, he could’ve slid right into me without any more prep. I hoped that he would. I wanted him to. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I replied, breathless.
Cal chuckled, still massaging my thighs. “What do you want?” he asked. As if he wanted nothing more than to keep making me feel good. It made my heart melt.
Well, I had only one answer to that question. “You.”
25
Cal
Maggie’s expression when she sighed, you, made my heart stutter. God, she was so fucking beautiful. I could hardly believe, in some moments, that this entire thing was real. It felt like it had to be a damn dream, some fantasy that I’d conjured up. How could one person be so damn perfect for me? How could I be so addicted to her?
I was enamored with her. Lovestruck. All those stupid, ridiculous phrases that I’d scoffed at when I was younger. Younger and foolish, I now knew. I wanted to forget about the rest of the world and just spend days in bed, worshipping her body, fucking her every way that I could think of and then only stopping to sleep with her beside me.
But we didn’t have all the time in the world, unfortunately, and Maggie had asked for me to fuck her. I wasn’t about to leave her hanging, so to speak.
I moved up her body, kissing as I went, addicted to the feel of her skin against my lips. I had marked her up, covered her in hickeys and red spots from my stubble, and it satisfied a possessive side to me that I hadn’t known existed. I wanted to go around to everyone that we met and tell them that she was mine and I was hers. I wanted to bring her to every dinner, every gallery show, every museum or get-together that I attended. I wanted the world to see that we were together.
Maggie wrapped her arms around me, sighing happily into my mouth as I finally kissed her there. Our tongues tangled, slid together, then apart, and for a few moments I just got lost in the joy of kissing her. Making out was kind of something you did as a teenager, before you knew what else you could do, and then you got to the whole sex stuff and you sort of forgot how nice it was just to kiss someone for the sake of kissing them, over and over.
