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The air hits me like a slap, chilling me but Callan’s eyes are pure heat as they move from the hollow of my throat, my breasts, down my waist and hips before lingering on the bronze colored ringlets between my legs.
A sharp throbbing bursts in my core, almost making me cry out but I bite my lip, trying to meet his gaze and his eyes slowly move up to mine. The scars shine in the light of the bathroom but the hallway is dark, making him look more menacing and I swallow.
“Do you even know how fucking beautiful you are?” he rasps in such a hard tone, that I start shaking before him. “Do you have any idea what your pretty face does to me?”
I don’t answer. Because I can’t speak.
He lifts his hand, removing one of my locks that is covering my nipple and I breathe in when he callously rubs his thumb over it. “The first time I saw your face, I wanted to save you, then I wanted to fuck you and then I wanted to keep you.”
My lips part to let out a needy sound and he grabs a fistful of my hair, shoving my face against his and his mouth is so recklessly ruthless that I get pushed against the wall, forced to tug my head back to gasp for air.
With eyes dripping with lust, Callan pulls his fingers to my mouth and I give them a tentative lick but he’s not satisfied. I put them deeper into my mouth, down to the knuckles, sucking a little and he lets out a low, praiseful purr before taking his hand back.
I jerk when I feel him, probing my folds and he touches me, spreading around the wetness of my slit and I’m too aroused to be embarrassed about the sloppy sounds that fill the air. They tell-tale about how much I want this, how impious I am for being willing to do this after having my own will taken away just a couple of days ago.
But I want to surrender to Callan, I want to be tied down byhishands and feelhishard body be so heavy on top of mine that I can’t move. I don’t want to have a choice and I don’t want to be able to get free because I don’t want him to ever let me go.
I want to be under his control, don’t care how helpless I feel or how powerless. All I care about is being his. I want my innocence to be penetrated by him. I feel like an idolatrous and Callan is what I worship and I let out a sharp, outdrawn whimper when he penetrates me with his fingers.
He curls them inside of me, pulling his face down and he sucks on my neck, rasping, “So fucking wet, you’re leaking all over my hand.” He groans. “Can feel your sweet cunt pulsing like a wee drum.”
“C...Callan,” I stutter, leaning my faint head on his shoulder, “are you going to make me...”
“Come? Aye, I will have you coming all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you until the neighbors start thinking you’re screaming bloody murder.”
Panting at his words, my face swells with heat, the area between my legs starting to feel torn up, like it needs to be filled and I reach for Callan’s belt, my eyes dazed and my mind swimming as I try to unbuckle it.
His fingers play tricks on me, his thumb, flicking my clit until my senses go numb and there’s only pleasure. I close my eyes, scared I’ll break but he doesn’t stop. He’s intent on breaking me, pulverizing me and my orgasm crashes into me like an enemy that destroys me from the inside. I harshly pant, squeezing my eyes and rub my face against Callan’s shoulder until I accidentally leave a trail of saliva on his shirt.
I follow with stunned footsteps as he drags us into his bedroom, removing his clothes so fast that I barely register, not until his shaft springs forth and my heart speeds up in my chest. It’s thick and veiny and of a killer size, making desire and worry that I might not be able to handle it flare in me but I still reach for him.
He shoves the both of us down the bed, his hand automatically shooting to turn on the light but I grab his thick bicep. “No,” I blurt, “leave it.” I want us to be like this, be reckless and dangerous in the dark that feels just as dangerous to me.
When he starts kissing my breast, I grip his head, unable to stop wrong thoughts from twirling in my mind. Thoughts so wrong, they should never have crossed my mind but maybe it’s because of everything that happened today or maybe it’s because of the dark.
What if Callan is Romeo?
I twitch when rue and anguish washes over me and I pull at his head. “Kiss me.”
“Where?” he rasps with innuendo in his voice and I go blistering hot, licking my lips and I whisper,
“On my wet pussy.”
Growling, he positions his face between my thighs but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead he masterfully eats and laves, using teeth, tongue and lips until it feels like I’m going to be sucked into him and never come out alive. Letting out a groan, he growls,
“Your wee cunt tastes like bubble bath but you need to give me more, love.”
I moan, moving on him, tugging and setting my hips to get more of his hot mouth. Gripping the sheets, I wrap my thighs around him, his slight stubble tickling my skin and I’m clasping so hard that the sheets almost rip up from the mattress.
Sweat is trickling down in between my breasts, pooling in my navel and I feel a tugging in my whole body that causes me to arch. Groaning, Callan plunges his whole tongue inside and it’s enough for me to splay my legs wide for him, creaming then screaming behind my palm and the after shakes are forceful, causing me to droop on the bed.
Licking his mouth, he presses a kiss against my pubic bone and in my stupor, I think I hear him tell me that he loves me. I smile because I must be stunned but I raise my head when I realize he’s actually saying it.
“I love you, Melody,” he rasps, in that underground, bottomless, the end of a well type of voice of his. “I love you and I will never allow anything to come between us.”
16
Callan
