“Are you going to come?” I know the answer, but I want to hear her say it.
To my shock, she shakes her head. “I-I had my…oh, orgasm for the night. I probably won’t…ah!” She gasps. “Not again. But it feels…”
“Like you’re going to come?” I root my fingers deeper inside her and concentrate my effort on her clit. “You are, angel. You may think you won’t, but I know better.”
“Does anything about this feel like the usual to you?”
“No,” she admits with a little cry.
“Me, either.” I suck her breast into my mouth again and toy with her nipple. “In the elevator, you came when I told you to. Want to bet you’ll do it for me again?”
Her lashes flutter open, and she looks at me with big, dilated eyes above the pink blooms of her cheeks. “Maybe you’re right.”
I know I am. For some reason, she thinks she’s only capable of one orgasm a night. That’s somewhere between laughable and ridiculous. And it will be my distinct pleasure to prove otherwise.
Regretfully, I release her breast, then hook my palm around her nape to haul her down to me. Her mouth is right there, and I can’t not taste it.
The moment I slant my lips over hers, I push in, shove deep, and take control. Bless her, she lets me. She gives way entirely, allowing me to pillage at will as I continue to stroke her clit. And all the while, she rewards me with more breathy, needy little noises that drive me fucking wild.
Finally, her tense body and erratic breathing tell me she’s on the edge. I ease back just enough to delve into her eyes and I press where her moans and gasps have told me her pussy is most sensitive. “Calla?”
“Yes,” she pants, staring at me as if I control her world.
Right now, I do.
“Come for me, angel. Come hard.”
Another drag of my thumb, another scrape of my fingertips over her G-spot, and another deep suckle of her nipple—and she releases her pleasure. The clamp of her cunt on my fingers and the steely hardening of her clit tell me so just before she wails out in low-throated bliss.
Her body jerks. She struggles to stay upright, digging her nails into my shoulders in the most delicious little sting. But the best part is the way she looks at me helplessly as if she doesn’t understand my mastery over her body and silently surrenders herself to me.
It’s beyond delicious.
When her womb stops clenching and the tension leaves her, I smile and pull her onto my lap. She melts against me, cheeks hot, and closes her eyes.
“I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“I enjoy making you feel good.” I nuzzle her neck and press a kiss to her nose. “I want to do it again.”
“If you were anyone else, I would say you’re crazy. But our chemistry…”
It’s fucking strong. I’ve never felt anything like it. “I know.”
She cups my jaw and presses her lips to mine for a lingering kiss. “Why aren’t you inside me yet?”
“I will be soon,” I promise because I intend to fuck her like she’s never been fucked before. That doesn’t sound romantic, but when I’m done, I’m determined she’ll feel thoroughly adored and possessed. “I haven’t finished exploring you yet.”
Calla frowns. “But you’ve had your hands all over me.”
“And my mouth is jealous.” I slide her off my lap and ease her onto the mattress beside me. “I’m going to fix that now. Lie back.”
Is he crazy? I can’t stop wondering.
With my last boyfriend, orgasm was something between a duty and a trial. I often faked it because the time it took to reach the real thing was exhausting. But with this man? I still don’t even know his name, but that doesn’t matter. Everything inside me tells me he’s important. Maybe that’s only true tonight; I don’t know. But he’s already undone me twice, and just looking at him now makes me feel as if a third climax isn’t impossible.
Coming upstairs with him may have been the best decision ever. Not just for the pleasure, though that’s amazing. But he’s setting the gold standard for future boyfriends. If someone I’m seeing can’t make me feel this way, maybe that’s my clue I don’t belong with them.
At the thought of not seeing him again tomorrow, everything inside me rebels. I don’t want to let him go. I called this pull between us chemistry, but somehow it feels like more.
“Calla?” He raises a brow at me.
There’s a hint of displeasure on his face I immediately want to soothe. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I asked you to lie back. Is that a problem?”
So he can make me feel amazing again? I shake my head and quickly comply, looking up at him with what I’m sure is a loopy, lovesick stare.