Page 127 of Love You Madly

Her soft gasps fill the room as I urge her on. “Come for me, Kitty. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As she starts to move up and down on my cock, I can feel my own orgasm trying to come out. She is so stunningly beautiful and this sight is enough to make any man lose their shit long before they want to.

“I love you,” I whisper against her skin. Callie pauses her movements, turning her head just enough to catch her expression. Her eyes are soft and filled with warmth, sending a rush of emotions through me.

“I love—Oh God, Owen! Holy shit,” she struggles to get words out as I pick up my pace on her clit and begin driving myself upward into her.

Callie’s head falls back, and she surrenders to the sensation, her body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. Her moans grow louder, filling the room as she rides the waves of pleasure. I tighten my grip on her waist, guiding her as she moves,the heat between us building to an almost unbearable intensity.

I can feel her walls tighten around me, and I know she’s close. Her breathing becomes ragged, each exhale punctuated with a soft, desperate cry. She’s losing herself in this moment, and the sight of her like this—completely vulnerable and open—is almost too much to handle. My own release is hovering on the edge, but I force myself to hold back, wanting to watch her fall apart in my arms.

She tilts her head to the side, eyes half-lidded and filled with lust, and meets my gaze. "Owen," she breathes, her voice breaking, “I’m so close.”

I press my lips against her shoulder, biting her softly while my hand still works her clit in time with our movements. “That’s it, Kitty. Let go for me.”

She places her hand on my thighs, holding herself steady as she cries out, her body shuddering as her orgasm takes over, her nails digging into my legs. The feeling of her pulsing around me pushes me over the edge, and I groan, my own release crashing through me with an intensity that leaves me breathless. My hips jerk as I empty inside her, every muscle in my body tensing as I hold her close, riding out the last of our shared high.

For a moment, neither of us moves. We just stay like that, clinging to each other, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The world feels distant, and all I can focus on is the feeling of her in my arms, the way her body molds against mine, warm and soft and perfect.

After I pull out of her, Callie turns to rest her head on my shoulder. Her fingers glide gently across my chest, creating invisible designs on my skin. I brush a few stray strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear as we settle into the comfortable silence.

She lets out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “I love you, Owen,” she whispers, the words soft and sincere, like a quiet affirmation of everything we just shared.

I tighten my arms around her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “I love you too, Callie.”

We stay like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the quiet envelop us. This space feels like it belongs solely to us, and for once, I’m at peace in a way I haven’t been in years. It’s more than just the physical connection; it’s the trust, the closeness, the love that’s been steadily growing between us.

Afterward, we move to the bed and lie in a comfortable silence, the gentle hum of the ceiling fan softly accompanying the rhythm of our breathing. Callie rests her head on my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns along my skin, and I feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Being here with her feels perfect, and I wouldn’t trade this quiet warmth for anything.

I reach over for my phone on the nightstand, intending to set an alarm for the morning. But as I unlock the screen, a message from Josh catches my eye. Apprehension fills my chest as I open it.

I haven’t heard from Josh since the day he chastised me for not supporting Karissa when she told me that she was pregnant.What the fuck does he want now?

I open the message, certain that this day will be ruined if he tries to pull the same shit this time. I consider not opening the message but decide I might as well get whatever this is over with.

Josh:

Hey man, I owe you an apology. I ran into Karissa at a bar last night, and she admitted she was never pregnant… She used a patient’s ultrasound photo. I’m sorry for how I reacted when I thought you’d disrespected her. I should have believed you; I didn’t think she was capable of this.

I stare at the screen, the words blurring as I read them over and over, trying to make sense of it all. Relief washes over me first, like a dam breaking loose, the tension that’s been coiled inside me for weeks finally easing. But then there’s the anger—hot and sharp, cutting through the relief with a vicious edge. The audacity of Karissa’s lies, the manipulation, the sheer disregard for the truth—it all hits me at once, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Callie must sense my change in mood because she lifts her head, her brows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with worry.

I hand her the phone, watching as her eyes move over the screen. She lets out a low breath, shaking her head. “Wow,” she says, her voice a mix of disbelief and something else—something closer to pity than anger. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but… God, what a mess.”

I let out a humorless laugh, running a hand over the back of my neck as I try to process everything. “I can’t believe she would go that far,” I say, my voice rough with frustration. “Who does that? Who lies about something like that?”

Callie shifts closer, her hand resting against my chest in a soothing gesture. “Someone who’s desperate for attention,” she says quietly. “But it doesn’t matter now. She’s out of your life, Owen. You don’t have to deal with her anymore.”

I nod, her words sinking in slowly, like the gradual thaw of ice. It’s over. The anxiety, the doubts, the constant questioning—it’s all done. There’s a finality to it that feels like a weight lifting, and as I pull Callie closer, I let myself believe that maybe, finally, I can leave this behind.

We lie there in the dim light, her warmth pressed against me, and I find myself thinking about the future—about the rooms in this house and the lives we’re building together. It’s not perfect—far from it. But it’s real, and it’s ours, and that makes it enough. I press a kiss to Callie’s forehead, feeling the soft flutter of her breath against my skin, and we drift off to sleep.

fifty-five

BIRTHDAY SEX - JEREMIH

CALLIE - AUGUST 28, 2013

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