Page 93 of Until the Storm Breaks
“Bed,” he says against my mouth, already walking me backward.
“We’re still soaking wet,” I point out, but I’m not exactly protesting.
“Don’t care,” he says, and proves it by pulling me into a deeper kiss.
The heat of his skin against mine makes me dizzy. Every inch of him is solid and grounding, yet every kiss makes my head spin. He kisses my lips like he is memorizing the shape of them, like he needs to know exactly how I taste in this moment. His hands tangle in my damp hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp. When he pulls back, his eyes catch mine, and there is so much emotion there that my chest tightens. It feels like too much and not nearly enough all at once.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone as if he is committing me to memory. “About staying. About choosing this. About choosing you.”
My breath stutters. “Calvin?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss, slow and firm, swallowing the protest before it can form. “Tomorrow,” he says against my mouth, his words vibrating into me. “I know. We’ll figure out the practical stuff tomorrow. Tonight I just want to love you.”
The promise steals the strength from my body. I let him lower me back into the sheets, my heart thundering in my ears as his lips trail down my throat. He lingers at the hollow of my collarbone, dragging his tongue across the thrum of my pulse before closing his mouth over it in a kiss that feels possessive.The scrape of his stubble makes me shiver, every pass of his mouth both tender and rough enough to keep me gasping.
“Calvin…” My voice is a plea, though I am not sure for what.
His answer is more kisses, each one lower, slower, deliberate. He does not rush. He is savoring. His hands slide down my sides, wide palms mapping my body as if he owns it now, as if he has every right to touch and take. When his gaze lifts briefly to mine, lightning flashes through the windows, throwing the sharp planes of his face into stark relief. His eyes are fierce, intense enough to pin me in place.
His lips follow his hands, tracing over the slope of my breast, teasing the peak with a flick of his tongue before moving lower. Every touch builds on the last, his mouth worshipping my skin in a slow path that has me trembling before he even reaches where I need him most.
By the time he presses a kiss to the sharp jut of my hip bone, I am shaking. The contrast of that soft press and the way his hands tighten on my thighs makes me arch off the bed, a desperate sound escaping before I can stop it.
“Calvin,” I whisper again, because it is all I can manage.
His mouth curves against my skin. “That’s right. Say my name. I want every sound you make tonight to be mine.”
The words make my skin flush hot. Then he slides lower, gripping my thighs in both hands and spreading me wide for him. My skin is hot, slick, pulsing with anticipation, and I feel every breath he exhales right against my pussy.
He lowers his head and kisses me there. A slow, deliberate press of his mouth against my clit, then another, firmer, wetter, until my entire body jolts. His lips move in worship, kissing me open, kissing me deep, sucking softly until I am gasping.
“Fuck,” he groans against me, the sound vibrating through my core. “I love this pussy. The way you taste. The way you’re already dripping for me. You have no idea how insane it makesme.” His tongue flicks over my clit between words, a tease that has my thighs trembling. “You’re so fucking beautiful here. I could kiss you all night.”
And then he loses the last of his patience. His mouth seals over me, sucking my clit hard before dragging his tongue down and plunging inside me, deep and greedy. He groans like my taste is everything he has ever wanted, and the vibration makes me cry out, fisting the sheets until my knuckles ache. His tongue thrusts inside me, curling, stroking, then he moves back up to circle my clit, alternating between sucking and licking until I am writhing.
His grip on my thighs is iron, keeping me open for him as he devours me like he has no intention of stopping, like he will not be satisfied until I am screaming his name. He drinks me in with a hunger that is both desperate and worshipful, every sound I make answered by a low groan from deep in his chest, like pleasuring me is the only thing he knows how to do.
“Calvin,” I gasp, tugging at his hair, tugging him up, anywhere, because I am falling apart under his mouth. “I need you inside me.”
He pulls back just enough to grin against my inner thigh, his lips slick, his gaze heated. “Not yet.” His voice is dark, a command that sends heat flooding through me. “You don’t get my cock until I’ve had my fill. And I’m not even close.”
I whimper, hips jerking against his mouth, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming, but he only groans and dives back in, spreading me wider, licking my clit until my cry echoes through the storm. My whole body is shaking, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes as I writhe under him.
“Please,” I choke, desperate. “Calvin, I need it. I need you to fuck me.”
He pulls back just long enough to drag his tongue slowly through my folds, from dripping entrance to swollen clit,savoring me like he owns me. “Beg me,” he rasps. “Say it until I believe you.”
The words leave me wrecked, pleasure sparking through every nerve. “I need your cock. Please, Calvin. Please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore.”
That guttural sound rips from his chest, raw and hungry. “Good girl.” He climbs up my body in one fluid, predatory movement, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his cock hard and heavy against my soaked core.
The blunt head slides through my slick folds and I gasp at the contact.
His eyes darken, and then he thrusts forward, burying himself inside me with one deep, possessive stroke. I cry out, my back arching, nails biting into his shoulders as he fills me completely. The stretch is overwhelming, but it is perfect. He feels impossibly deep, reaching places no one else ever has.
“Fuck,” he groans into my neck. “So warm and wet I could lose my mind.” His hips grind against mine, slow and deliberate.
His thrusts are deep and relentless, each one pulling ragged sounds from my throat. The storm outside rages harder, wind rattling the windows, rain hammering the roof, but all I can hear is Calvin’s voice in my ear. His weight pins me to the mattress, his chest slick with sweat against mine, every inch of him pressed to me like he is trying to fuse us together.
