Page 124 of Endgame

“What the hell was that?” My attempt at lifting my head to follow him turns out to have a zero percent success rate due to my man-made wrist restraint.

This jackass is edging me.

I’ve had enough of that shit. Months of edging have led me to this moment of weakness. I’ll beg if that’s what he needs from me; it’s clear he’s enjoying his success at my ability to submit to him so willingly.

It looks like a night of romantic lovemaking is not on the agenda for tonight, but cage-fighting out months of pent-up sexual frustration is.

I’ll entertain it. I’ll also, however, make sure the torturous foreplay wreaks havoc on his composure as well.

Two can play at this game, Callaway Hayes.

48

CALLAWAY

I’m wrestlingto hold myself together.

She thinks I’m playing her and intentionally trying to edge her, but I’m not.

I’ve waited for this moment longer than I can remember.

She’s been this wound in my soul that’s needed closure to move forward, and now that I finally have it, I can’t keep myself intact.

I know there's no going back the second I give myself over to her. I’m hers forever: body, mind, and soul. Exposing yourself in a way that could leave you alone is terrifying. I know she loves me, and that’s all I can hold onto now.

The reason I’m struggling at this moment, though, is because I’m worried I won’t be able to last. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been inside of a woman, let alone one that I love.

The last thing I need is to explode like an adolescent teenage boy in my jeans. But holy shit, the sight of her spread-out pussy on display for me was unforgettable. Feasting on her did nothing to fill the sharp edge of lust filling my anxious cock right now.

I need to feel her suck me in as I fill her to the brim.

I need a plan.

She’s in for a surprise if she thinks I’ll let her come anywhere other than around my cock. Fuck that.

Before I can think twice, I gaze down at her needy little body that’s desperate for release, and I take a step forward, preparing to watch her squirm.

Still fully clothed, I make sure my hard cock is right at her head, as I hold out her hands that are still bound by her silky purple scrunchie. I grab her wrist tightly, holding them slightly to the side, as I lean my mouth to the shell of her ear and whisper, “Dakota, you’re looking beautifully uncomfortable. These perfect curves seem to be flushed pink from my touch. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes. Callaway, please, I’m begging you, touch me. Anywhere.”

Look at my beautiful girl begging for me.

She’s a greedy little minx, and it’s sexy as hell to watch her look so ruined, contrary to her typical face of bravery and vigor that I’ve always found to be such a striking quality of hers. But this, she’s begging for scraps, ready for me to make a mess of her.

It’s time to be the giver my angel needs.

Untying the scrunchie from her wrist and tossing it on the counter, Dakota’s arms fall free as a heavy sigh leaves her lips. She’s laid out the same way I left her, except now, her arms meet her thighs at her side as she looks up at me wildly, waiting for my next move.

“Get up.”

Her feet meet the floor in seconds, a light chuckle leaving my lips as I watch her circle her almost naked body to where I’m standing.

Except she’s not waiting on my cue to act, always surprising me with her spiteful independence.

She embodies self-confidence.

Standing before me, completely unashamed in her most vulnerable state, looking like the love of my life, although I don’t think she has the slightest idea of the effect she has on men without even trying. Now messy in tangles, her caramel brown hair looks like hands have been wrapped in it, a look I’ve come to love the most on her. Her delicate nose freckles look like they were hand-drawn just for her, making her look more precious than rubies.

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