Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters 2)

Her mouth starts to descend towards my cock, and I lift her chin up quickly and kiss her. I move on impulse—what feels right. And my fingers slip inside of her. She’s so fucking wet. She climaxes within a couple minutes, and I take them out and grip the base of my cock.

Daisy inhales sharply, realizing what’s about to happen. She edges closer to me, holds the back of my neck with both hands, and rests her forehead on my chest. She likes the visual, and I’ll gladly give her one.

I brush her hair away from her ear and whisper, “Ready to have all of me, Dais?”

She answers by running her hands through my hair near my neck. I smile, and I slowly slide into her. She clenches around me, and my mouth opens. I force a fucking groan to stay in the back of my throat. My muscles cut into hard lines, and I hold the back of her head to my chest.

I can’t imagine a more intimate way to fill Daisy, with her on my lap as I sit up, clung to my chest, giving me possession of her body and heart.

She’s swollen around my erection, soaked and so much tighter than I anticipated or expected. Underneath these nerve-splitting sensations, I’m acutely aware of how much she can take of me. She gasps, learning how to keep her voice hushed, and I stop midway from fitting into her completely.

“Ryke,” she cries.

“Shh,” I coo. She rocks her hips, attempting to put all of me inside of her. My hand falls from her head to her hip. I steady her, and then I push in further. Fuck. My eyes shut as the pressure overwhelms me. I haven’t even started moving in her yet.

I grip her ass while she stares at the way my long cock disappears between her legs. She breathes short, choppy fucking breaths, and when she’s engrained the image, I tilt her back against the dark green sleeping bag.

My hand slides from her knee to her thigh, and I begin to thrust with slow, deep strokes, milking every fucking movement. I want each one to last for eternity, no rushing, no speeding up this cliff. My ass tightens as I push forward, and I kiss her, combing her damp blonde hair away from her forehead.

I’m inside the girl who has begged for this type of pleasure for years.

And I’m the one finally giving it to her, showing her that sex can be so fucking good.

Fucking Christ, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.

“Ryke,” she starts saying. So much that I have to put my hand over her mouth again. She rocks her hips upwards each time I thrust down, creating friction and extra depth that blinds me with adrenaline. I rest my forearm beside her head, my six-foot-three body hovering over her small frame.

Her eyes fix on mine as I thrust, my pace increasing by a notch. Her hips can’t keep up with me. Her legs hook around my waist. She’s limber enough that I bring one of her legs over my shoulder while my chest is close to hers.

She moans into my palm, and I restrain from coming right there. I hold back, grunting and pushing. Fuck. I don’t feel her breathing, and her eyes flutter.

“Breathe through your nose,” I say roughly, instinctively quickening each thrust. I don’t want her to fucking pass out.

She finally exhales, and her gaze returns to mine. I slow for a second, but I can tell she’s nearing the end. Her whole body is tense beneath me; her eyes threaten to roll back at any moment. I pound into her in fast spurts, a thin sheen of sweat coating my skin. Fuck.

Fuck.

She’s so tight.

I can’t slow down, even if I wanted to.

My parted lips touch her forehead, and I move until her body lifts against mine, until her head tilts back and her eyes close. Her moans breach my hand, but they’re soft cries that only I can possibly hear. And they’re so fucking beautiful.

I grunt as I force myself not to come yet. I take my hand off, and I lift her from underneath her arms.

“Ryke,” she says, her tense muscles all softened and melted after that climax. Her eyes fall to my erection, and she frowns.

“Catch your breath fast, sweetheart.” I spin her on my lap, her back against my chest, and I grip my cock, sliding into her easily. She gasps as she has the best visual of me moving up and down inside of her.

I suck her neck, lifting my pelvis up into her in a deep, pulsing rhythm. I knead her breast, my finger flicking over her hardened nipple.

She leans back against me and clenches my hair, letting me fuck her how she deserves to be fucked. With attention and so much love. Long minutes pass, and I know I could build her up for hours. I could make her come until exhaustion shuts her eyes, but I want her to be coherent afterwards. As she clenches around my cock, I focus on her body in my grasp, me deep inside of her, and her shallow noises.

I push upwards hard, and I come with her, white lights flashing in my vision, my head fucking spinning. I exhale a couple times before I slide out of her. I gently lean her against the sleeping bag, and I lie next to Daisy, my body at peace with hers. The flashlight swings above us like a pendulum.

Fucking finally.

Nothing has ever compared to that.

She kisses me, before I can say anything. I smile and kiss her back. Then I cup her face, my legs magnetically finding her smooth ones, tangled once again. “Better than chocolate?” I whisper.

She breathes like I took her on a marathon, not a sprint. “You’re in another league.”

I skim her cheek with my fingers. “Yeah?” I smile. “You’ve finally found the league you’re supposed to be playing in, Dais.”

“I like it here,” she whispers. “The better than chocolate league.” She wraps her arms around me, and I press my lips to her head. “How long do you think this’ll last?” Her voice turns serious, fear creeping in. Now that we’ve slept together, we could lose so much more if someone pulls us apart.

“As long as we want it to,” I tell her. “I’d fucking fight for you, Dais. You just have to let me.” She can’t be worried about hurt feelings. We’re going to upset people eventually, but if they love us, if they want us to be happy, they’ll accept this.

“Even your brother?” she whispers, her eyes closing as she dozes off.

“Even him,” I breathe, watching her begin to fall asleep. How long it’ll last, I’m not sure. I sit up and turn off the flashlight. I zip open one flap that faces the woods, the moon bathing our tent in a serene

glow. I lie back, not closing my eyes. She eases into a peaceful slumber.

And I stay up and recount what I have with her and how much more I want.

One day can change everything.

So I keep hope that one day we’ll finally be there.

* * *

An hour must pass before she wakes up, unable to sleep. She notices that I’m already awake, and she rolls onto my body and traces the outline of my tattoo again, grazing her finger over the dark ink. I hear the faint sound of crickets outside our tent.

Her finger trails the inked chain on my side that’s bound around the feet of a phoenix.

“Am I the anchor?” she asks, skimming the tattoo on my waist.

My eyes darken. “Why would you think that?”

“You never told me what the tattoo meant when you got it.”

She was with me almost every time I went to the tattoo parlor to have more of the design filled in. She asked only a couple times what it meant. I would give her a look, and she’d drop it. I didn’t think she’d draw this conclusion. Not back then, and definitely not now.

“I’ve weighed you down the past couple of years,” she elaborates off my dark gaze. “I just thought—”

“I’m the fucking anchor,” I tell her suddenly.

“What?” Her brows furrow.

I know I need to give her the whole explanation. I can barely meet her eyes as I do. “When I was seventeen, my dad came to one of my track meets. He tried to watch as many of my competitions as he could.”

I stare at the top of the tent, remembering the heat of the summer in May. Jonathan Hale in the bleachers, wearing a suit and nodding at me as I met his sharp gaze. He smiled. Genuine pride.

“My mom was there. She wouldn’t look at him,” I say. “And when a lady leaned in to ask my father who he was there for, I heard his answer.” A bitter taste fills my mouth. “He said, ‘my friend’s kid. That one.’ He motioned towards me.”

I remember flipping him off, and that pride vanished from his eyes.

I didn’t care anymore.

Daisy places her hands on my abs. “What happened?” she asks with a frown.