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Then he shoved himself inside me.

Instead of the tender lovemaking we should have had after he first told me he loved me, he fucked me so hard I screamed. I dragged my nails down his back and panted into his ear. I was still angry, but so grateful he was home. “Fuck me harder.”

His eyes locked to mine before he did what I asked. He thrust his hips and pushed me against the wall, making my back thud against the solid material as he moved hard and fast. He gripped me by the ass and the thighs, groping me hard like this was a one-night stand rather than lust between two committed people. “I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow, sweetheart.” He dug one hand into my hair and yanked my head back as he shoved his massive dick inside me, stretching me over and over.

“Fuck…” I felt the explosion between my legs and had no time to prepare for it. It came suddenly and without warning. Calloway made me melt right into the floor, turning me into a puddle of desire.

When he felt my pussy tighten around his length, he released with a grunt, keeping me pinned to the wall. We were a sea of tangled limbs, our bodies wrapped around one another so tightly it didn’t seem like we could ever be free.

He pumped his seed inside me, claiming me as his once again. He rested his face in the crook of my neck as he finished, breathing through the exhilaration. His lips sealed over my skin, and he gave me a sexy kiss before he pulled away from the wall, his cock still inside me. He carried me up the stairs to the bedroom then lay me flat on the bed, his throbbing cock slipping out of me.

He kicked off his jeans and boxers then climbed on top of me, his powerful body making the bed sink under his impressive weight. He looked down at me like he was nowhere near finished. “I know I’m an asshole sometimes. But I don’t know how to be anything else besides an asshole. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

I knew that was as close to an apology as I was going to get.

“I don’t know how to deal with these feelings I have for you. Ever since you walked into my life, it’s been chaos. When you were a virgin, I was patient with you. I’m a virgin too, but in a different way. Please be patient with me.”

That was even better than an apology. All the anger I felt toward him disappeared in that moment. Somehow, I felt deeper in love with him. He was the one, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It might take us a while to get to a place where we were both comfortable, but we would make it there eventually.

We just had to try. “I’ll wait forever for you, Calloway.”

His eyes softened before he leaned in and kissed me. “I knew you were going to say that. But I wanted to hear it anyway.”

Calloway and I didn’t talk much after our fight. He returned to his silent brooding, his face a mask of impenetrable stoicism. He didn’t seem angry with me, but he wasn’t as easy to read as he used to be.

Something seemed different.

Maybe it was his mother. His hostility seemed to come from nowhere, emerging from somewhere deep inside him. Maybe her well-being and lack of memory elicited this change in him. Now he was a bomb that had just gone off, but the aftershocks were still rolling in.

I wanted to ask him about it, but I feared it would only make it worse.

We had dinner together at the table in silence. Calloway wasn’t much of a talker, but he had less to say than usual. His eyes were either on his food or out the window, never on me. His mind was weighed down with thoughts. I could he see the cogs turning deep inside his mind. His mood reflected in his eyes like mirrors.

When we finished, I carried the plates to the sink and started the dishes.

“No.” Calloway came up beside me and scooted me over with his size. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Calloway, you really don’t have to—”

He silenced me with a threatening look. “I said I would take care of it. Now go sit down.”

I dropped the argument because I knew I wouldn’t win. I sat on the couch in the living room and listened to the dishes tap against the sink as the water ran out of the faucet. He rinsed everything before he placed the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. He washed his hands then walked into the living room, looking hot as hell in the black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His tight ass was defined, even in the loose clothing. He wore a black V-neck that showed his chiseled chest and his thick arms. He took the seat beside me then grabbed the book he’d been reading off the end table. He opened it and picked up where he left off.

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