Page 122 of Endgame

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DAKOTA

Have mercy.

I’m about to expose my inner tramp with the way his words make my pussy weep.

He wants me to show him my tits. Sure thing, babe.

I’ve been waiting for this moment.

Without responding, I let go of Callaway’s neck and lift the hem of my t-shirt, bringing it over my head. I can tease him or rush to it; I think I’ll go with the latter.

My restraint for him is wearing thin.

My shirt comes off in one swift motion, leaving me in nothing but a pair of red lace panties, and my sensitive breasts ready to be explored. I let my gaze run up the length of Cal before reaching his eyes, finding them directly where I thought.

Put them in your mouth, Callaway.

His stare is feral like a vampire fighting against its blood lust.

There’s an unspoken carnalneedbetween us, and it’s about to explode. Heat blazes my skin from his intensity.

I need him to touch me.

But I’m gonna play with his restraint a little first.

“Like what you see, Ocean Eyes?” My breathing is coming out in heavy pants, doing a terrible job at disguising how turned on I am.

His eyes are unwavering.Fuck me, please.

“I want to do bad things with you.”

Please do.

“And what’s that?” I’m taunting him, and it's working.

His hungry chuckle almost makes my arms give out behind me. My body is on high alert.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? But fuck me, Dakota. These tits.” His eyes have yet to halt the raking of my body as he grabs my love handles and squeezes them tight.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” The feel of his hands on me is incredible.

Licking his lips, Cal contemplates his next move. I feel him everywhere. I need my willing heart rate to calm down.

“Mhmm, we’ll get there. But not until I taste every inch of you.”

A loud groan erupts from Callaway’s mouth as my body is held firmly against his, and he lowers me onto the countertop. The coldness does nothing to deter the heat coursing through me.

“You got a thing for countertops, Callaway?” I need to shut up, but I can’t help myself. This is our thing.

“I have a thing for you.” Same, babe, same. “And for the color red it seems.”

He’s ghosting his thumb across the top line of my panties, making me quake with want.

I’m teetering on a fine line of instability; his words rile me up just thinking about the thick veins on his cock. I’m greedy for his touch.

How the tables have turned. I was never the one incontrol; he has always held my independence in the palm of his hand.

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