He opened his eyes and watched her head drop back. “Calum.”
He sucked one of her smooth outer lips, using very little pressure. When he parted her with his hands, he lapped a circle around her clit. It was swollen and obviously sensitive, because she jumped when he flicked it. He loved eliciting responses from her, discovering what she liked, what made her gasp.
With his lips, Cal brushed light, feathery strokes up and down her slit. He fought hard not to lose himself in her taste, her silky texture, but he made sure he kept in tune with her, measuring her reaction, her breathing. She was panting now and close to coming, so he backed off a bit, applied less pressure.
“Cal. Calum. Please.”
His tongue darted inside her, fluttering up and down. She liked that too, and her breasts rose and fell rapidly.
“Don’t stop doing that,” she said.
He continued, reveling in her response, making her mindless with need. She yelled as she came a moment later.
Cal didn’t stop his movements, but kept up the pace, licking inside her. Another wave wracked her body, and she groaned, pulling at his hair. As that second orgasm rippled through her, Cal felt more powerful than he ever had.
After a long minute, Monica’s body went slack. She released her hold on him, and he eased away from her.
“Seriously fucking awesome,” she said, her eyes closed.
Cal stroked the side of her hip with one hand. “Don’t fall asleep. We’re not through.”
Her eyes drifted open, and she grinned. “Can I take my bra off yet?”
“No.” Cal moved off her, but came back a moment later. He held a condom in one hand as he pinched her nipple, then kissed the side of her neck and worked his way to her earlobe. He bit down, and Monica sighed with pleasure.
Cal positioned himself on top of her once more. Her body fidgeted under his. “Want me to put it on for you?”
Cal kissed her temple. “No, you’ll only torture me. And you’ll enjoy it.”
“Only a little, and you’ll enjoy it too.” Monica laughed, grabbed the foil packet out of his hand, and ripped it open.
Cal stole the condom back and rolled it on himself. She was still grinning as his gaze traveled over her face. “Where did those freckles come from?” Cal smoothed a finger above her eyebrow. “You’re never out in the sun.”
“I hate them.”
“They’re adorable.”
Monica framed his jaw with both hands, her smile becoming more wistful. She stroked her thumb over his lips and placed a tiny kiss on his chin. “What’s your middle name?”
His brows dipped as he stared at her. “Why?”
“Because I want to know.”
“George. Terribly sexy, I know.”
“Please fuck me, Calum George Hughes,” she said.
“So formal.” Cal adjusted his hips and slid inside her, but he didn’t thrust immediately. They stared at each other for a long moment. The late-afternoon sunshine slanted through the room, bathing her face in a warm glow. Monica Campbell was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered, and he was lucky enough to be balls deep inside her.
Cal began to move slowly. He wanted to savor this, make it last. He couldn’t ever recall a feeling quite like this one—as if he and Monica were connected, and not just physically. He would sound a complete knob if he uttered that thought aloud.
He licked the little dent in her chin. He loved that dent. Cal wanted to take it slow this time, fuck her gently, but this wouldn’t satisfy her for long. Monica liked it hard and fast. He’d give that to her. Eventually. But right now, he wanted to draw it out, prolong the pleasure for both of them.
“More,” she demanded.
Cal gave her a hard kiss, but kept up his steady pace. He pulled out almost all the way and then slid back into her. Over and over again until she bit his shoulder.
“I hate you,” she panted.
“Do you really?” Cal pulled out of her entirely.
“Okay, maybe hate is not the right word.” She tried to place her hands on his shoulders, but he moved out of her reach and rose to his knees.
“I should say so.” In a swift move, Cal hooked his hands around her thighs and pulled her ass toward him. He draped her legs on either side of his chest until they stuck straight up in the air. He stroked his hands up and down her calves, over her shins. “Your turn. What’s your middle name?”
“Taylor.”
Positioning himself at her entrance, Cal slid back inside her. “Monica Taylor Campbell.” He embedded himself all the way, stretching her to capacity.
When he pulled out, she opened her mouth to protest, but he rammed back inside her, filling her again. “Monica Taylor,” he ground out. “So fucking tight.”
As he worked in and out of her, her breasts jiggled slightly. He watched them, couldn’t take his eyes off them. With both of his arms hooked around her legs, he thrust back and forth. When he sensed her urgency, he placed his hand on the top of her pussy, and with his thumb, found her ripe little clit. He brushed it—once, twice—then she came.
“Cal. Oh God.” She scratched at the back of his hand. Monica closed her eyes, and her pussy tightened around his cock.
Cal continued to pound hard while stroking her. Occasionally, he’d swivel his hips, providing a different sensation, a hot friction. Her walls clamped down on him, testing his endurance. A fine sheen of sweat covered his chest and arms. “Fuck. I want this to last.” He clenched his jaw. “Going to come, love.” He stopped playing with her and wrapped his hand around her other leg, then he picked up the pace, slamming into her faster than before.
Cal came with a hoarse shout, his hands gripping her thighs like they were the only things keeping him steady. His cock jerked inside her, and she shuddered around his shaft, draining him.
Once he stopped moving, Cal planted a kiss near her ankle, his breath harsh from exertion. “Amazing.”
He pulled out of her and gently lowered her legs. Cal dropped a little kiss on her shoulder, then slid off the sofa and onto the floor.
* * *
Monica sat up and simply took him in. With his chin resting on his forearm, he looked beautifully masculine. He smiled at her—a drowsy, blissful half grin.
Something about the tilt of his lips tore at her heart. Monica’s day had gone downhill from the time she’d opened her eyes this morning, but it had all fallen away when she’d stepped into his arms this afternoon. They weren’t just having fun—well, she wasn’t. How Cal touched her, like she was special—that meant everything.
Oh God. She didn’t want this. Not now, not with him. He was going to break her heart, and she’d handed it to him on a platter. Shit.
The realization brought Monica out of her peaceful haze, making her scramble off the sofa and reach for her underwear. She grabbed her panties and pulled them on. Cal settled his hands over her upper arms.
“Monica. Look at me, love. What’s happening right now? You’re thinking again.”
“It’s just been a hell of a day.”
He stared at her, his light green eyes dancing over her features like he could read her thoughts, but then his expression changed to one of boredom. Cal slid his hands down her arms before relinquishing his hold. “Oh, dear,” he said with a yawn. “Look who’s lying again. How original.”
“Shut up.” She slipped her bra over her shoulders and adjusted her breasts.
“I’m not looking to get in a row right now. I’m still basking in the afterglow. Give me a few to work up a lather, and then we’ll have a go.” He stood and threw away the condom before walking to the liquor cabinet. He poured a finger’s worth of whiskey. “Cheers.” He tipped his glass before taking a sip.
Flicking back her hair, she faced him. He was still naked and semi-hard. How was that possible? “I’m not lying, I’ve had a shiteous day.”
He picked up the restaurant guide and perused it. “Of course not, darling. You’re living your truth.” His dry tone raised the hair on the back of her neck.