Page 56 of A Loser by Christmas
A golden glow showcases my cock bobbing as I ride him, and he watches. His eyes widen. It’s all the incentive I need to take over although he’s far from passive. Calum’s a team player, that’s all. Observant. He fucks upwards each time I let gravity take over.
I sink. “F-fuck, Calum. That’s deep.”
“In English.”
He absorbs my second attempt to tell him.
“It’s good?”
Him needing confirmation is wild when it’s so obvious that he’s more than good. He’s the best, which I don’t mean to say aloud.
“Yeah, I am.” His eyes laugh, which is a lot, but he isn’t done with being observant—he spots when my eyes close and my own jaw drops.
“There?” he asks. “Like that?”
My cock leaking must tell him he’s found the perfect angle. He locks in, hips moving just right, and I’m lost in pleasure, there before I’m ready.
I clench. Shoot over his fist and belly. Ride intense waves and gasp, “Keep going.”
I’ll regret that later. There’s no way I’ll have the same stamina to fuck him like he fucks me into giving up a little extrafor him. A surprise spurt wrenches free from someplace soul deep to coat his fingers, and I’m done.
“Like that,” he says when I’m flat on my back, every bone turned to shaking jelly. “Do me like that later, yeah?”
“Not sure I can.” I lift an arm. It quivers. “Overachiever.”
He laughs, and I love to hear it. Love it, full stop. Love?—
“Hey, what’s the time?”
I find my phone and show him. “Still early.” I find wipes too and kneel over Calum to clean him up. Or I would, if I could stop dipping my head to kiss him.
He wrestles me all the way down to the mattress, and I don’t fight him. I let him muscle me exactly where he wants me, which is tucked tight into his side.
I snuggle even closer, trying hard not to drift off. Returning speedboats to the yard won’t wait. Neither will Calum’s torture-chamber visit. “You need to head off now?”
“Soon. Not yet.” He goes up on one elbow to look down at me. “Beautiful,” he says quietly. “No,” he says when I try to pull up the covers. “Want to see you while I still can.”
He’s so tender my throat thickens. “Then take a photo. So you can see me whenever you want.”
“No, I won’t.” He clears his own throat. “I mean, a photo wouldn’t be as good as seeing you for real like this.” His lips brush my forehead. “Did you submit your entry?”
“Not yet. I’ve got until this evening.”
He whispers, “You’ll win.”
I love his certainty, his absolute belief in work he hasn’t even seen yet. It makes this offer easy. “Want to watch it before I hit the submit button?”
“Do I want to? Of course I fucking do. Show me when I get back?”
“I will.”
“And I better make a move.” Calum’s arms tightening around me make him a liar.
I lie too. “Oui. I’ve got to get going as well.”
It’s so fucking cosy that I close my eyes regardless of both of us needing to get our days started.
“Not giving up,” Calum reminds me quietly, which in turn reminds me of footage I edited without him.
