Page 77 of Sunsets & Slow Dances

“There are other things I want to do, too.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. “Do you want me to show you?”

I knew that I should say no.No, I do not want you to show me what you want to do. That was a bad idea. Another night with Callum would only make the situation more complicated. I would get even more hurt when this inevitably ended badly for one reason or another. Either he left to go back to Arizona, or he got back together with his insanely hot Instagram model baby mama.

“Are you sure you and Felicity are really over?”

A flash of something crossed his face. I wasn’t sure if it was irritation or hurt that I would ask him that question. “If we weren’t really over, I wouldn’t be here asking if you wanted me to show you what other things I wanted to do.”

Right. They were really over now, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t going to end up together at some later date and time. I could ask if he thought there was any chance of that happening. But if I did that, he would answer me honestly. Did I want that answer?

Callum’s thumb trailed along my cheek. The roughened pad gliding along my soft skin sent tingles scurrying down my spine straight to my core. It was a teaser of what was to come, pun intended. My hormones, head, and heart were in a battle over what the right thing to do was. I was reasoning with myself that it was just one night, and since we’d already slept with each other since he’d been back, what harm could come of one more time?

My argument was weak, and the arousal flooding through me was strong. It didn’t help that I’d just slow danced withhim to ‘our song’ at sunset barefoot on the deck that he rebuilt for me after eating a delicious meal he had prepared for me after a long week of work. It truly was one of, if not the most, romantic evenings I’d ever experienced. Being in Callum’s arms had always been one of my biggest turn-ons. It was tied with kissing him, touching him, hearing his voice, smelling him, and seeing him smile.

I knew what Ishoulddo, but I’d never been very good at doing what I should do.

“I can’t stay the night.” The fingers that were cupping my face tensed, and he tilted my head even farther up. “I need to be home for Matty’s bedtime routine at seven-thirty.”

My eyes cut to the clock on the microwave. It was six forty-five. It would take him about ten minutes to get home. If we were going to do this, we should do this now.

“What do you want to me to do?” he rasped, I could hear the desperation in his voice and feel it radiating off of his body.

“Show me.” My voice was tight, strangled by lust.

Callum exhaled a growl as he lowered his head and covered my mouth in a kiss that caused my knees to buckle beneath me. His arm snaked around me, and he lifted me onto my kitchen table. He stepped between my legs and pulled my shirt up and off. Next, he made quick work of my bra. Once my chest was bare, he began to kiss down my neck. He licked, nibbled, and pressed his lips to my skin. His hands cupped the mounds of my breasts, massaging them as he sucked the sensitive area just below my ear.

My hands ran up and down his chiseled back. I loved feeling the contours of his muscled shoulder blades. His open-mouthed kiss continued farther south, over my collarbone and onto my chest. He teased me, peppering featherlight kisses to the area all around my areola but never actually touching or kissing me where I wanted him to most.

“Please,” I begged him to show me some attention to my most needy places.

He dropped one hand from my breast. I closed my eyes in excited expectation, knowing he was going to move his fingers between my legs to give me some much-needed relief, but that’s not what he did.

I heard the glass clink beside me, and I opened my eyes to see that he’d picked up a piece of ice and was putting it between his lips.

He cupped my breasts with his hands, and I watched as he traced my areolas and nipples with the ice captured between his lips. I gasped at the cold temperature as it sent a shock of bliss straight between my legs. I bit down on my lip, and my hips jerked as he continued his sensual torture until the ice completely melted. But he wasn’t done yet; he opened his mouth and blew hot air onto my chilled skin, then covered his lips over my nipple and sucked me into his mouth. His tongue was still cold; his breath was warm. The combination nearly drove me right to the edge.

My release was building inside of me, like an avalanche collecting steam as it barreled down the side of the mountain. I was so close. My hips were bucking, grinding against his erection, which was trapped behind his zippered pants. I could feel how hard he was, and that only increased my own arousal.

As close as I was, I just couldn’t quite get there. My hands fisted in Callum’s hair as I let out a whimper of frustration. Callum knew my body so well I didn’t have to say words. He could read my body’s shorthand and answer its unspoken request. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, and the moment his fingertip brushed against my swollen clit, I convulsed as I came apart. The climax had built up at a steady pace, but it hit me suddenly and aggressively. My body seized with the sheer force of the release. When thefinal shudder trickled down my spine, an urgency overtook me. I wanted Callum to feel exactly what I had just felt.

Without finesse or any sort of grace, I tugged at his shirt, pulling it up his back. He lifted his arms up and assisted me in the removal of his shirt. Once his chest was bare, I leaned forward and pressed soft kisses to his neck and chest. He moaned in appreciation, and the sound vibrated against my lips. I continued kissing him as I unbuckled and unzipped his jeans. I reached my hand into his boxer briefs and wrapped my fingers around his shaft. When I squeezed my hold, he hissed through clenched teeth. I slid my hand down and then up again, varying the speed and the grip of each pass. I continued squeezing and stroking as he kicked off his work boots. Once they were gone, I released my hold so he could push down and step out of his boxer-briefs and jeans.

Before he returned to his position between my legs, I scooted off the table and lowered down to my knees in front of him, eye level to the mushroom tip of his girthy cock. Callum was the first person I’d ever given head to, so I naively thought I thoroughly enjoyed the experience in the universal sense. Little did I know that not all head was created equally.

I realized after a few other encounters that it wasn’t the act I enjoyed; it was the man behind the dick that was the make or break of it all. With Callum, it felt like we were sharing something intimate, and it turned me on. With most of the other guys I’d been with, the act felt like it was just sort of a means to an end to get them off.Ididn’t get any pleasure out of it.

My mouth watered as I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft. My palms tingled as I gripped him tightly, and a tiny bead of clear come appeared on his tip. A grin tilted at the corners of my lips as I leaned forward and licked it off.

A deep groan rumbled in his chest as his fingers threaded through my hair. I licked him again as I began to run my hand up and down his length. I sealed my lips over his head and sucked him into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the crown of his cock. He tasted slightly sweet and a little salty, exactly how I remembered him tasting. I loved how he tasted. I loved how he smelled. I loved everything about him.

Being on my knees in front of Callum was also exactly how I remembered it. I felt bold, sexy, and empowered. A swirl of pleasure began to build low in my belly as I concentrated on keeping my lips suctioned as I moved up and down his shaft with my hand and mouth.

I cupped his balls and began to massage them as I continued to work his shaft with my mouth. A surge of arousal shot up through his cock, and I tasted a spurt of his release go down my throat.

Callum’s hand fisted in my hair, and he tried to tug my head back, but I didn’t allow him to. The sting of my hair getting pulled shot straight down to my sex, and it pulsed with need. I kept my fingers tightly gripped around him and increased the pressure of my suction.

He growled my name in a warning tone, “Nadia.”

I ignored the warning. I wanted to taste him—all of him. I continued my efforts, and his body responded. His breaths began to grow more labored as his chest rose and fell. His fist unfurled and cupped my head; instead of trying to pull me off, he began to guide my head up and down, faster and faster.

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