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He doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t move, which I supposeisan answer.
We watch the lightning dance across the mountains and the sheets of rain whisper over the water. It’s spellbinding. I’ve always witnessed a storm from the inside. Beinginit, feeling the rain on my skin, has always been something I wanted to do.
I stand against his body, leaning my head against his chest. My hand fists the thin cotton fabric of his casual button-up. His fingertips skim across my shoulders, down my arms, then back up to the thin strap of my dress. He hooks his finger under the strap and pulls it down. He kisses one shoulder, then the other, igniting a deep ache in my core. An ache only he can soothe.
The steady rain is now a raging storm. Even though we’re under the thatched awning, our bodies are soaked. There’s something about being out here, in the rain, hoisted above the water between the beach and the mountains with this man, that drives my body wild.
The water soaks through my thin slip dress, making it stick to my body. My nipples push through the fabric. He swallows hard, throat rippling, when his eyes fall to my breasts.
Thunder rumbles against the mountaintops.
“I’m not a reckless man, Makenna,” he says with a hint of regret in his eyes. “I can’t afford to be.”
I don’t know what he means when he says things like that. Iwantto know. I want to know everything about him. But there’s a time and place for conversations like that, and this is not it.
Lightning crackles in the distance, matching the electricity coursing through me at his closeness. Drops of water kiss his cheeks and fall from his nose onto his mouth as he speaks. A twinge of jealousy shoots through my chest. I want to taste those lips.
He moves a wet strand of hair from my face, then leans in. His breath is a hot contrast on my skin against the cool rain. “But I need to fuck you. Right here. Right now. And I don’t care who sees.”
I don’t care either. I want the world to know he’s mine.
I close my eyes and exhale the breath I’ve been holding since the moment he opened his mouth. When I open them, I find him looking back at me, dark and hungry. My fingers fly through the buttons on his shirt, unfastening them one by one. I slip the wet fabric off his shoulders, then lick the raindrops from his chest. I can’t help it.
It’s coming at us in sheets now, but we don’t care. The thunder rolls again, adding to the tremble my body is already feeling inside. My hands work their way down to his zipper, and he helps me guide the tan linen shorts over his hips.
Lightning flashes as he grabs my ass, lifting me up and spinning me around. My back is against the glass door, holding me in place. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his back. He pulls my dress up around my waist and shoves my panties to the side. He hasn’t even really touched me yet, and I already feel him everywhere.
My tongue sneaks out and traces his bottom lip, drawing a quiet hum from deep in his throat. My hips writhe between the glass and his hard body, searching for his cock.
“I fucking love seeing you like this. Wanting. Needing. Knowing it’s me who does that to you,” he says against my ear.
His words send a shudder from my belly to my core. He bends his head and licks my nipple through the wet, silky fabric. The shudder becomes a blazing fire. I am aching for him. My thighs squeeze tight against his wet body as my heels work to push him into me. He peers up at me with those calm, steady eyes and slowly lowers me onto his cock. He slams into me, pinching my nipple between his teeth at the same time.
“Ah, fuck,” I cry out, more in pleasure than pain.
Another rumble of thunder, and he plunges into me. Hard. I moan, and he bites my nipple harder. With every stroke of his cock, the fire burns hotter. Until it’s licking up my thighs and threatening to burn me alive.
I close my eyes and let the water pour over our bodies as he thrusts deeper. And deeper. Pushing me against the glass so hard I worry it might break.
He wraps my wet hair around his hand and pulls, the sting of pain forcing my eyes open. “Look at me when you come. Let me see what I do to you.”
My pussy clenches. I hold onto his shoulders and say his name as if it’s a prayer. “Callisto.”
His strokes are hard. Possessive. Driven by feral grunts as his fingers dig into my hip and his other hand pulls my hair. A surge of pleasure shoots through my body, powerful and fierce. It’s building. Tingling. Explosive. My body breaks, shuddering and whimpering and squeezing around him. One look in his eyes, and I see him right there with me, pulsing, throbbing, releasing inside me.
He throws his head back and lets the rain fall over us, between us, touching every inch of our skin. This is euphoria. It’s freedom, it’s healing, it’s a mind-blistering, soul-shattering connection blessed by the heavens. We stay like this, him inside of me, holding me, until I start to shiver.
“Shit. You’re cold,” he says as he slides the door open and carries me inside.
He takes me to the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footsteps along the way. Then, he sets me on the counter while he runs a hot bath.
17
Callisto
Some people drink to ease their nerves. Some people take pills to calm the storm raging inside themselves. Some look for other ways to escape the thoughts that run wild in their minds.
I watch Makenna sleep.
