Black Obsidian (Obsidian 1)
Page 24
She breathed into my mouth when she paused our kiss. “I want you too, Calloway.”
My spine shivered when she said my name, and I pictured her screaming it as I fucked her hard into the mattress. I preferred to be called Cal, but I loved hearing my full name on her lips. Her naturally husky voice made it sound so goddamn sexy. No one else could pull that off.
I grinded against her harder, pressing right against the most sensitive part of her nub. I moved her wrists together, so I could grip them with a single hand before I moved my other hand up her thigh, feeling the silky, smooth skin. My fingers dug into her thigh, gripping her harder as I pressed her deeper into the mattress.
This juvenile foreplay was far beneath me in my sexual experience, and the last time I dry-humped like this was in eighth grade. After that, I graduated to fucking hard in the back of my pickup. But somehow, it felt like the sexiest thing I’d ever done. I wasn’t inside her, but it felt just as good. I flexed my ass before I thrust my hips against her, trying to feel that friction of her sex against the shaft of my cock. The more we moved together, the better it felt, and the amateur nature of the act turned me on even more. I would never resort to this with other women. I only did it with Rome because that was all I could get. It felt so wrong that it felt right—and I knew I was going to come in my slacks.
Like a fucking teenager.
She tried to free her wrists again, and this time, I allowed it. I wanted to see what she would do with those hands. She cupped my face and kissed me harder, her fingertips digging into my hair. Now she was sweaty and out of breath, clinging to me in desperation. She was on the edge of an orgasm—a gift from me.
Sweat formed on my back underneath my shirt then trickled down. I could strip my clothes away and hers, but this felt so much dirtier. We were so hot for each other that we were making this work, enjoying it as much as we would enjoy actual sex. It only excited me for the real thing—the moment I would finally fuck her. Now I knew she would be a heathen in the sack. Once I had her hands chained behind her back and I fucked her in the ass, she would adore it. I could envision the fun before it even began.
Her hands moved to my shoulders next, and she dug her nails hard enough that I could feel them through my shirt. Slowly, they migrated down to my ass, and she pulled me harder into her, wanting my thick cock to press into her with more force.
Fuck, that was hot.
“You want my cock, sweetheart?”
Her face was beet red, and her lips were parted in preparation for an orgasm. She knew it was coming, and she wanted extra friction to make it combust. “Yes.”
Hearing that response made my cock twitch. I deepened the angle on top of her then thrust into her hard, ramming my cock against her throbbing clit. My ass was sore from squeezing so tightly, and my balls were drawing closer to my body as I prepared to come.
I watched her tits shake in her dress as I rocked into her, picturing how gorgeous they would be once her clothes were gone. She had a nice chest, and I planned to tit-fuck her one of these days. Her cheeks flushed further, and her mouth gaped open as the explosion slowly trickled through her body. Her eyes became lidded as she looked at me, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
When I was with Isabella, I enjoyed myself immensely. She did everything I asked, even things most submissives wouldn’t dare attempt. But even the dirtiest thing with her didn’t compare to how I felt now—with Rome. I wasn’t even inside her, and I was in heaven. I gave her a final kiss and sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. “Come for me. Now.” My Dominant voice slipped out before I could stop it, but I didn’t regret it.
Because she came. “Oh god, Calloway.”
Now I was going to burst.
She dug her nails into my biceps and grinded against me, her face a beautiful shade of pink and her mouth in the delectable O that I’d wanted to see since I met her. “Yes…fuck.” She pulled me closer to her as my cock slid across her folds.
My hand moved under her head, and I fisted her hair like a tyrant. I told myself I wouldn’t do that because it was a dead giveaway to who I truly was—a dictator. But I couldn’t stop myself. She’d just come and said my name, and now I was prepared to fill my boxers with my come—for her.