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He steps backwards, and I immediately miss his proximity.

“Hell no, babe. But if you're not ready for this, there's no way I'm going to force you.” Moonlight floods in from the window next to him, illuminating his face. He looks worried, vulnerable, and his hesitation is enough to give me strength.

“I don't want to stop,” I tell him, taking a deep breath. “But I'm...I'm embarrassed to let you see my body. I'm not perfect and you're going to see that.”

He frowns, eyes scanning from my face right down to my legs. “What do you mean 'not perfect'? You're fucking gorgeous.”

“I've got a curved spine. I lean to the left a bit. I'm not symmetrical.”

The smallest of smiles shapes his mouth. “Not symmetrical?”

“One side of me is curvier than the other.”

He reaches out and traces my side, running from the edge of my breast to my waist. “Symmetrical is pretty fucking overrated.”

He kisses me again, his hands pushing into my hair as he angles my head, his tongue dipping and sliding into my mouth. Then he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down the hallway. If he wasn't so big and I wasn't so light, it might be a disaster. But as it is, his strength is a turn on, and I kiss him back just as hard.

He kicks open the door to his bedroom before walking across the cream rug and laying me down on his bed. The covers are fresh and soft, and they fluff around me as I hit the mattress.

“Nobody's perfect, sweetheart.” He pulls his tie off, then deftly unbuttons his shirt, pulling it open to expose his chest. He shrugs it off and he's naked from the waist up. He has the strength of an athlete, his pale skin defined by the thick muscles beneath. His chest is covered by a smattering of light brown hair that leads down to his navel, before sharpening into a line. He stands there, exposed and vulnerable, and all I want to do is touch him. So I scramble to my knees and crawl across the mattress until I reach the edge, then get down and stand next to him.

“Sit down,” I say, my voice thick with need. I push him down, his shoulder flexing beneath my palm. Reaching behind me, I pull the zip the rest of the way until my dress is gaping open at the back. Then I slide it down, past my hips, past my thighs, and step out of it.

I'm naked save for my bra and panties. Callum stares at me from the edge of the bed, his eyes sweeping every inch of my body. The tip of his tongue pokes out to moisten his dry lips, his breath ragged. My need for him escapes from every pore.

“I lied. You are perfect.” He doesn't take his eyes off me.

I shake my head. “That's not what Luke says.”

He swallows, the action making his throat bob. “There are two things you need to know about me, sweetheart. The first is I don't lie.” He reaches out and runs his finger across my hip. “And the second is you really shouldn't mention your ex-boyfriend when you're half naked in my bedroom.” He smiles at the last part, making me giggle. I move forward and straddle him on the bed, my bare legs on either side of his suit-clad thighs.

Callum wraps his hands around my hips, pulling me down until my panties slide against his cock. He's hot and hard and makes my toes curl in delight, my body grinding against his. He reaches behind me to unclasp my bra and my breasts spill out, the cool air making my nipples pebble before he cups them.

“Exquisite.” He rubs his thumbs across them, making pleasure spit and spark in my belly. “Flawless, beautiful.” Callum captures my nipple between his lips, teeth grazing, tongue bathing.

The air catches in my throat, straining my voice. “Did you eat a dictionary?”

His lips curl around me, and I can feel his smile. “It's not a dictionary I want to eat.”

“No?”

“No.”

He leans back until he's flat on the bed, and I follow him, my body on top of his. He tugs me up until we're aligned, his chest pressed to mine, his dick hard against me. Just a gentle roll of his hips is enough to make me gasp, and I realise how excited I am. Every cell in my body is buzzing with desire, and the need to really feel him is tugging at me.

He kisses me, grabbing my arse as he grinds against me again. Then his fingers slip inside my panties, trailing down until they reach the hot, ready part of me that's begging for his touch.

“You're wet,” he whispers. “So fucking wet.” He slides a finger inside me, and I nearly jump with how good it feels.

Desperate, I fumble at his belt, sliding it open and unbuttoning his trousers. I press my hand inside, beneath his boxers.

His hips buck at my touch. He's hot in my palm, soft skin stretched across his hard thickness, and it throbs against me. I drag my hand along him, making him gasp, the sound making the pulse between my legs crescendo.

Callum shuffles out of his trousers and shorts, lying naked beneath me, and I can't tear my eyes away. Taut, toned and masculine, he makes me feel tiny and petite.

“Beautiful.” I press my lips to his chest, my fingers still wrapped around him. Dragging my teeth against his nipple, I smile as I feel him react, his heart hammering against his chest.

“These need to come off,” he mutters, pulling at my panties. They catch on my hips and he lets out a frustrated growl, before I get to my knees and shimmy out of them.

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