Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“That’s it,” Callan growled as he pounded into me, my body shifting up the bed with the force of his powerful drives. “Reach it, princess. Take it.”
“Callan!” The tension inside of me spiraled. I’d never been so consumed by it before. Usually I overthought everything in bed, but there was nothing but the sensation of him overwhelming me, like there was so much of him in me, it was tearing me apart in the best way.
“I need you to come, princess,” he begged hoarsely.
“I-I’m—ahh!” I gasped. “N-nearly th-there!”
“I knew you’d be like this,” Callan said breathlessly. “Wet and hot and tight and fucking perfect!” His grip on my hips became bruising. “Come, Beth. Please. Come around me. Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”
His filthy plea was my undoing.
The tension built to the breaking point and my whole body tensed for what felt like seconds before I exploded. My hoarse cry filled his bedroom as my inner muscles throbbed around him in release and with such force, I could feel him being pushed out and pulled back in.
“Fuck!” Callan’s expression slackened, eyes wide. Then his hips juddered against mine as he groaned, long and deep. His cock pulsed inside me as I contracted around him in the blissful aftershocks of climax.
He collapsed over me, his breath puffing against my ear as he trembled and shuddered. I put my arms around him, my hands smoothing over his back. He was damp with perspiration, and he smelled of aftershave, sweat, and sex.
Dazed, I stared up at the ceiling, soothing Callan through his orgasm as my inner muscles still twitched around him.
Never in my life had I come that hard.
I didn’t think it was possible.
Callan eventually lifted his head to stare at me. I could see he was a little dazed too.
“That was …”
He swallowed, nodding, as he twitched inside me. “That was … fuck … the way you come, fuck … fuck me, we are doing that again.”
I grinned, feeling smug for two reasons.
One, sex could be utterly bloody phenomenal after all!
Two, sex with me had clearly blown Callan’s hair back. “Maybe I can even take off my dress this time, Captain.”
Callan let out a bark of laughter, the sound vibrating against my lips as he kissed me.
CHAPTER THIRTY
BETH
Iwatched Callan’s game against Northpark the day after we’d had the best sex of my entire life.
He’d kept me up until three in the morning, screwing me literally six ways till Sunday until I had to beg him to stop because I was pretty sure my heart was going to explode. I’d actually lost count of my orgasms.
When his alarm went off three hours later, I’d groaned and buried my head under the pillow that smelled like him. Hearing him switch it off, I’d tensed, waiting to be thrown out, but instead, he’d just gotten up. So exhausted, I fell back asleep, and he woke me with a minty kiss.
I’d mumbled incoherently at him, eyes blurry with tiredness.
I vaguely recalled him grinning at me before pressing another kiss to my lips. “Stay here, sleep. There’s coffee and food in the kitchen.”
So I’d happily fallen asleep, but not before I’d heard him whisper, “Fuck, I wish I could get back in that bed with you.”
At least I thought I had. It was possible I’d imagined it.
Hours later, I’d woken up and pulled on Callan’s dressing robe to wander through his flat. The first thing I noted was the e-reader on his bedside table. Nosy as heck, I switched it on and discovered Callan was a reader. He had a ton of thriller, spy, and military novels on the device.
It made me smile and realize there was still so much about him I didn’t know. The penthouse was pristine. Callan seemed to like things uncluttered. The only three photographs I could find in the whole flat were framed photos of whom I suspected were his mum and stepdad. Little boy Callan stood in the middle of a good-looking bloke and a pretty dark-haired woman, and the Universal Studios Florida sign behind them told me it was taken on a family holiday. An ache scored across my chest on his behalf.
The other two photos were of his friends. One of him and Baird and John, the other of him and his team. Those sat on the sideboard in the hall.
A shelf in his walk-in wardrobe housed all his football trophies and awards. They were hidden where very few people would see them. Those were the only truly personal things I’d discovered.
Feeling guilty for looking, I did the very short walk of shame down to my flat so I could shower and get on with my day. Before heading over to my family’s for Sunday dinner, I got through some work and uncharacteristically switched the TV to the live play of Callan’s game. He’d had such little sleep, I worried about him, recalling that he said this game was a second round in the Scottish Series Cup. The fact that he was playing games in three different tournaments was pretty impressive.