I set Calla carefully down and spread my jacket on the ground. She immediately pulls me down onto it, and her hands are everywhere.
My lips, my hair, my chest, my groin.
She touches me like she’s memorizing me through her fingers, and maybe she is.
“You’re mine,” she whispers into my mouth before kissing me. I kiss her back, hard, before I agree.
“I’m yours.”
I pull her to me, and she’s so soft. Her hands are strong as she clutches my back.
“I need you, Dare,” she whispers. “Please.”
She thinks this is our first time, and so I treat it as such. I work her up to being with me… my fingers sliding inside of her, making her wet, making her pliant. She arches her back, and her soft breasts crush into me, and I can feel her pulse there, rapid and light.
“Calla, let yourself go,” I tell her in her ear. “Relax and just feel.”
Her muscles relax and her head drops back, and I can see her eyes moving behind her eyelids as she moans.
She writhes on my jacket, she pushes herself into my hand, and it isn’t until she is arching, arching, quivering… and then I slide into her.
Her eyes open as I fill her up, and then her legs clasp around my hips.
“Oh my God, Dare,” she murmurs, and her breath is hot in my ear. “Oh my God. Don’t stop. Please. Please.”
Her begging is almost my undoing.
I rock with her, touching her, kissing her, consuming her.
Her hair is whipped around us by the wind and we’re climbing together, climbing climbing climbing toward a climax.
Her fingers bite into me, and mine into her, and the friction is delicious, the attraction undeniable. Together, Calla and I are magic.
The air around us crackles and snaps, and she breathes and pants and moans.
“Calla,” I utter, and the wind takes my words and carries them away. “Calla.”
I’m coming undone and I can’t wait any longer.
I empty myself into her and I can’t put it off any longer. I pulse and pulse and she absorbs it, contracting around me, and she cries my name.
“Dare,” she says, and there is a tear on her cheek and I wipe it away while I’m still buried deep inside of her.
“Why are you crying?” I ask quickly, but she’s smiling.
“I’m happy,” she explains. “You make me happy. You’re everything, Dare. Don’t let go, ok? Don’t let go.”
I hold onto her, nodding, and we stay this way for so long, as long as we can, until I hear voices calling our names, looking for us.
We put our clothes back on, and reluctantly walk back out to the beach, to find the nurses coming our way. They’re stern and we’re in trouble, but neither of us care.
They separate us on the bus, and we’re going to get disciplined, but it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters but Calla.
Eleven
I don’t see Calla for forty-eight long hours.