Her hair is down today, hanging halfway down her back in loose waves. Big and messy. How I would love to grab a handful of it while I’m buried so far inside of her that all she can think about is begging me to give it to her harder. Or to feel it whipping around me as we take a ride to wherever we want to on my bike, this time not having to hide from anyone or only going so far because she has to get home. I want the whole damn world to know she’s mine. I’ve waited years.
These past few days not being able to touch her have been torture. I get where she’s coming from. The night she first came here, we fucked like wild animals. Our desperation for each other was so intense, it was bound to happen.
I’ve had enough waiting, though. I want her, and I know she wants me. Every part of her body tells me she does, from the way she watches me get dressed in the morning as her eyes roam over my body, to the way she kisses me, pushing her body up against mine. I feel her heat. Her body trembles whenever I kiss that spot on her neck.
And then there are her legs. Her legs are longer than Eight Mile Road. Is there a fork somewhere down Eight Mile Road? If there is, I’m not going left or right. I’m plowing the motherfucker right in the middle. At least, that’s where I’m looking to plow right now.
My dick gets hard from just the thought of her, but when I touch her, he turns into a beast. A mad, angry fucker. Whenever we’ve gone too far, she pulls back mere seconds after she realizes what she’s doing.
I’m a mess. Pushing my chair back a few inches, I thump my head down on my desk.
“Seriously?” she asks.
Her toes move into my line of sight. They’re painted a bright pink. Yesterday her mom finally came over with a doctor. They won’t give her any form of birth control until they’re sure she isn’t pregnant. So now if we do have sex in the next few weeks, I have to use a condom.
After the doctor left, they spent most of the day tucked inside our house, painting each other’s nails, talking, and drinking wine. I’m glad she has that close relationship with her parents. The other day I asked Calla if she had grown a pair of balls, but I should probably check myself to see if I’ve grown a pussy, with all this whining I’m doing inside my own head.
“I know what you need. Sit up, babe,” she commands firmly.
“I am sitting up. Take a look,” I taunt, looking down at my dick. It’s hard. He’s just as horny as I am and he’s fucking killing me.
“I can see he’s standing at attention. If he wants some attention, then please sit back.”
He most definitely wants attention. I end my inner wrath. She’s once again boosted my thoughts. If she’s going to do what I hope she is, I’m all for it.
My fingers reach up and slide down her cheek as my gaze takes her in hungrily. The hunger for me in her eyes stares right back, so full of love, patience, and forgiveness.
“You deserve the fucking world, baby. I want to give it to you. I’m an ass.”
Her tongue darts out and licks the entire outer edge of her lips. My fingers leave her jaw, tracing around the same spot she just licked. She is so beautiful. I don’t deserve her.
“You can be. But I know what your problem is. I have the same exact one. You know what I mean?”
Her hand glides down my chest, stopping at the waist of my jeans. She flicks the top button open.
When she ducks her head, her teeth grab my zipper and tug it down. Christ almighty, I knew she was a naughty girl. Fucking hell.
She nips the tip of my cock with her teeth, jerking me off of the chair.
“Fuck me,” I moan.
“I’m about to, with my mouth,” she says seductively, all the while tugging my jeans off of me.
I lift my ass to help her. When my jeans are down around my ankles, Calla leans in again, her dark hair flowing everywhere. I grab it and tug it hard while she continues tormenting me. I could lose my load right now and her mouth hasn’t even touched me.
“I’m loving seeing you on your knees, although it should be me on my knees begging you to love me forever, telling you my heart is finally healing. Good Lord, you have no idea how hard you make me. How badly I crave you deep within my bones.”
“I feel the same way. All these years, I never wanted to acknowledge to myself that I have always felt you here,” she admits, placing her hand over her heart. “But right now, I need to feel you here.”
She squeezes my dick. I grit my teeth.
Her small, delicate fingers pull my briefs down and my cock springs free. Her eyes go wide as she does a double take, looking up at me then back at my dick. Son of a bitch. I’ve been so enthralled in what she is doing to me that I completely forgot about my tattoo. She gasps loudly, her hands flying up to her mouth.
“Oh, my God. You crazy man!”
All kinds of questions flicker through her eyes. Some I’m willing to answer, and some I’m not.
She hesitantly reaches out and runs her index finger down the stem of the white lily.
“Did it hurt?”
“It hurt. Not as much as losing you did,” I tell her, speaking the God’s honest truth.
Her eyes turn sad.
“When did you do it?” she whispers, her smooth finger continuing to glide up and down my dick.
I’ve waited six years to show her this. Tell her why I marked myself. And now I can’t seem to get the words to escape past my throat.
“Cain. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her head bows, her hair once again falling all around her. I can’t see her face, but I can feel, though. And when her tongue takes a swipe across the tip of my dick, all I can do is to lay my head back and relish in the fact that she is here. It’s her. Her mouth making love to my cock. Her long, dark hair spread across my stomach, draping down my legs.
I’m finally believing I have my life back.
Chapter Sixteen
Calla
I’m astonished, nearly rendered speechless when I get a good look at Cain’s glorious cock. I’ve never seen anything like that tattoo in my life. A single, perfectly drawn out white Calla lily runs up the front of it. I want to explore it. Lick it. Suck it. Hell, devour it.
I’m no slut; I have had only two lovers since our breakup, but I haven’t given a blow job since the last time I gave one to Cain. What inexperienced teenagers we were. I was so surprised when he told me one night while we lay in the dark on the bed that he has never let anyone else give him a blow job, kissed another woman, or even gone down on one. I told him not to say shit to try and make me feel better; I didn’t expect him to keep his dick in check while we were apart. He said he always knew we would get back together, or at least, he was bound to try.
So now I sit here on my knees in front of the man who I love with everything I have. I start at the tip, placing small kisses around his opening, swirling my tongue up and down the front and licking the now enlarged head. My hair veils my view of his face, so I can’t see if he’s enjoying what I’m doing. He sighs, his thigh relaxing under my touch. His hands firmly set into my hair, giving me the confidence to carry out this sexual act. God, I’m confident in almost everything I do, but right now, I am fucking nervous.
Please, babe, love this. Let this be the best damn blow job of your life.
I’m on an exploration of this beautiful dick. Good God, it’s like one of those hot, sunny days where you want your Popsicle to last forever. I’ve never wanted to please him more than I do now. I don’t care how wet I am, or how much I want to feel him inside of me; this is all about him. His pleasure. His relief. Him. Just him.
I barely take in the tip. I could never take him in all the way before; there’s no way I can now. He’s so much bigger. So thick and so hard. I wrap my hand around the base and inhale his scent. Relaxing the muscles in my jaw, I work my way down, taking in more and more, my movements syncing with the up and down gliding of my hand. My tongue swirls around, tasting his erotic flavor.