I’m going to have fun with that.
“I don’t know. What am I, bossy man?”
I grin and pull her loose blond hair back into a tail, tilt her head to the right, and lick, in one long motion, from her ear to the tip of her shoulder, then drag my lips back up the same path.
“You’re sexy,” I breathe. God, I love her neck. I scoop the hair that has escaped my hands out of my way and kiss and nibble the back of her neck, then over to the opposite side and pull the sweatshirt aside so I can taste her shoulder. “You’re delicious.”
She moans, and when she would tilt her head forward, I fist her hair and pull her head back, my grip firm, and kiss her cheek, then bite her earlobe.
“You’re every fantasy I’ve ever had.”
She fucking purrs as I push my hand into the neck of her sweatshirt and cup her firm breast in my palm. My cock pulses as her nipple puckers between my fingers.
I know she wants me to bend her over and fuck her here in the kitchen, but that’s not the plan. Not right now.
Instead, I continue to nibble and suck her shoulder, her neck, more forcefully now. Both of her breasts are tight with lust. Her left hand slips back to grab my ass, but I catch it and press it against the counter. “Hands off.”
“You’re doing all the work,” she whines, and only makes me smile against her shoulder where it meets her neck.
“Are you complaining?”
“No.”
I bite her now, hard, and gasp as she pushes her ass against my cock in surprise. She’s told me before that her neck is sensitive, and she wasn’t lying. She’s close to coming, and all I’ve done is touch her tits and ravage her shoulder and neck.
I drag my nose up her cheek, and then with my fist in her hair once again, I turn her head so my lips can reach hers and I kiss her like a starved man. Tongues tangle, bodies heave, breath is ragged, and finally I feel her whole body tense and she moans against my mouth as she comes.
I slow down, soften my touch as she comes down from the high, and when her breath has calmed, I right her sweatshirt and simply walk away.
“Oh hell no,” she says, her voice hoarse but determined. “You’re not going to give me neck sex, make me come, and then walk away.”
I turn to look at her and tilt my head. “I’m not?”
“No. You’re not.”
And there she is, the woman in control who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. She turns me on every fucking time.
She marches to me, completely naked from the waist down because, God bless her, she doesn’t wear panties, and proceeds to push her hands against my chest and push me to a nearby chair, giving me no choice but to sit in it.
“I’ve been wanting to suck your cock for months,” she announces, making me almost swallow my tongue. “And you keep distracting me with your damn mouth and cock and your hands, and you’re not going to distract me today.”
“I think I just did a fairly decent job of distracting you,” I inform her and then hold my hands up in surrender when she simply glares daggers at me. “But I’m all yours. Do as you will.”
She licks her lips and unzips my jeans, frees my cock, and without any hesitation, takes me all the way into her mouth, sinking down until her nose hits my pubis.
“Jesus, Callie!” My hips come up off the chair, but she holds me firmly, adds her hand to her mouth, and works my cock expertly, moving up and down, alternating between firm and soft. Just when I think I’m going to explode, she lightens her touch, both frustrating the hell out of me and making me want to yank her up and fuck the hell out of her.
She hums and cups my balls, licks me from root to tip, rubs her tongue in the slit in the head, and then sinks over me again, repeating the whole damn process over again.
“I’m not going to survive this.”
She chuckles, and I notice that her shoulder is moving. Before my eyes cross, I glance down and see that she’s not only getting me off, she’s getting herself off at the same time.
“Mother fucker,” I groan, unable to hold my orgasm back. Between her magic mouth and seeing her pleasure herself, I’m done for. “Callie, I’m gonna come.”
Rather than back away, she hums her approval, and when I come in her mouth, she swallows, then leans back, a satisfied and proud smile on her face.
She moves to stand, but I stop her. “Don’t quit touching yourself.”
She tilts her head to the side, and with that smile still in place, she simply sits on her ass, spreads her legs right here on the hardwood, and runs her perfectly manicured fingers through her lips, pushes two inside her, then drags them up to her clit. It’s a circle that she keeps following, slowly.
She’s magnificent. Her face is flushed and goosebumps cover her arms. Her fingers are soaking wet from her pussy.
To my surprise, I’m already hard again, and I’m stroking myself while she watches, teasing her pussy, her lips, her clit. She puts her wet fingers in her mouth, licks them clean, then bites her lip as she puts on the show of a lifetime, and suddenly, she’s coming again. Watching the way her muscles tighten is fascinating. Her body quivers. She cries out, and I’m coming with her, not even caring about the mess I’m making.
We’re not touching, but this might be the most intimate moment of our relationship so far. Her blue eyes are lazy now as she catches her breath, watching me, and a slow, Cheshire cat smile spreads over her lips.
It’s in this moment that I know I’m lost to her, forever. She doesn’t just own my heart, she is my heart.
I love her.
***
“It’s early,” Callie pouts beside me the next morning as we walk from the hotel to the waterfront and Pike’s Market. “We’re usually going to bed right about now.”
“That’s an exaggeration, but it is early.”
“So why are we out of bed? We had room service and sleep and sex back at the hotel.”
“Because you’ve never been to Seattle, and I want you to experience it.”
She frowns. “Okay. Can I experience it with coffee?”
“That’s the first thing on my list,” I assure her and take her hand, link our fingers, and squeeze reassuringly. Three squeezes, to be exact.
I love you.
Our first stop is the original Starbucks where we load up on probably way too much caffeine, then I lead her through the market. It’s a little early yet, but vendors are already setting up their tables full of seafood, flowers, jewelry, just about anything you can think of. Callie is happy to slowly browse, stopping to taste some local honey, or accept a slice of apple.
A pair of earrings catch her eye. “We’ll take them,” I tell the man behind the table, who smiles and reaches for a box.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Callie shakes her head and the man pauses with the box in his hand.
“Do you like them?”
“Of course, they’re beautiful.”
“Perfect.” I nod to the man and he continues boxing her earrings. I pay him and she takes the bag with a thank you, and fifteen minutes later, when she still hasn’t said a word, I decide to break the silence. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Thank you for the earrings.”
“You’re welcome.” We walk further, tasting oils and vinegars with cut-up bread, and then finally stand and watch the guys who throw the fish put on a show. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, but she doesn’t lean into me the way she usually does. “Spill it, sweetheart,” I murmur into her ear.
“You’re just a very take-charge kind of person,” she says, her eyes pinned to the fish flying through the air. “And that’s something I have to get used to.”
“It’s not a big deal. You like the earrings, so I bought them.”
“And I like the Seahawks so you brought me to Seattle,” she says with a nod. “You just—”
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” I say and drop my arm. Am I coming on too strong? I don’t see it that way. I love her, so I do nice things for her. It’s really that simple.
“I’ve never been taken care of,” she says softly and finally turns to look up at me. She takes my hand in hers and holds on tightly. “This is just new for me, and I’m not complaining, I’m just—”