“Oh, fuck me now,” I cried, suddenly desperate to hold his cock, lick his shaft. I wanted his come inside of me. Fuck, I wanted it all over me.
“You want to fuck me hard?” he said, standing again.
“If you’ll let me,” I said, using the submissive tone that he responded to—hell, that I responded to.
“Oh, yes, you will.” He turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack. Dragging the terry cloth over my body, he rubbed me down, and in turn I dried him off.
After his shoulders were dry, I lowered my reach to his sizable cock and smiled in pleasure. I would get that again.
He lifted me up once more with his strong arms, and carried me to the waiting room. He grabbed a plush blanket from the love seat and spread it on the ground.
I looked down at myself, my body now dry and clean. I felt like the old Callie had been washed away. Now I could be softer, more open. Now I was ready to allow someone in to take care of me in ways I’d never let anyone before.
“I told you I wanted to take care of you, and I meant it,” he said, pulling me to him. He kissed me and it felt like a whisper, like the wings of a newly emerged butterfly. It felt like the promise of something blossoming. Something new, something real.
I whimpered as he pressed his lips against mine, and our mouths met perfectly. As if they had timed themselves for this moment.
Holding my back he lowered me to the ground, and traced my mouth with his fingers.
“You need a lover. You need me.” His words were so true that for a moment I forgot I hadn’t known him longer than a day. I forgot that I was waking up in the morning and packing my bag and driving home, far away from him.
“Stop thinking, Callie, just give in. No regrets.”
No regrets, I thought, not for the first time this weekend. This moment was mine for the taking. I deserved to be in this man’s arms tonight. I deserved a man who wanted to take care of me. Every woman deserved to have tender hands strum her neck, breath purr against her ear.
Every woman deserved to be desired.
He was above me, and as he eased himself into me for the second time, I let myself exhale in delight. Fuck, Liam was hot, he was strong.
He was a man.
It was easier to take him this time; my pussy had already been widened from his pounding from behind, from his fingers that coursed against my clit. Now I was ready. Now I was his.
“Oh, yeah, Callie,” he moaned, pushing into me, his strong arms steadying himself over me—so different from being smashed under Blaine’s narrow frame as he dug into me like an animal.
Liam was different. Together, we found a rhythm that left sweat on my chest, heat in my core. His cock filled me deeply, and my moaning let him know it was just what I wanted.
Earlier he had told me what to do, and it had caused the walls of my world to unfold. This time it was different. This time it felt like we were in it together. As if he needed me like I needed him, and it allowed us to push deeper with each thrust.
My center began to quake as he hit my g-spot over and over with his hard cock. I lifted my ass off the ground, wanting him to make me come as he consumed me. With a crash, we rode the wave that filled us.
We pushed beyond ourselves as we came, together.
“Oh, girl, that was—”
“Everything,” I finished for him.
“Everything,” he repeated, nodding slowly as he licked his lips.
He stood and walked to the bathroom. I watched his tight ass flex as he moved, and I shook my head in disbelief. He came back with a pair of white robes and pulled his on.
“Don’t go,” he said, surprising me. “Tomorrow, don’t leave. Stay and we can keep … exploring.”
“I have to,” I said, as if it were obvious. “I have a job and rent and—”
“And responsibilities, I get it,” he said, holding his hands up. “Sorry, that was too much, too soon.”
“At this point I don’t think there is such thing as too much too soon, not between us.” I cinched the belt of the robe tight and took the bottle of water he offered.
“Would you want to meet again then? If, say, I was ever in the city?”
“I wouldn’t object.”
“Wow, okay,” he said, rubbing his neck.
“No, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, back-tracking.
“Then how did you mean it?”
“I mean my mode of operation is resting bitch face. I’m not soft around the edges. I push people—around, and away.”