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Calista

After

Fane’s hands were trembling when he raised them between us, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were frantic, roaming over my face. My body.

“I don’t know where to touch you,” he admitted, sounding so lost.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“Well, I’ve never tried to do it after you were in a car accident.”

I reached up to grab his hands. The moment I covered them with my own, his shaking stopped. “I’m not going to shatter, and if something hurts, I will tell you. Now kiss me or I’ll—”

I didn’t get to finish that sentence, and I’d never been so glad to be interrupted.

Fane’s hands slid around me, pulling me into him gently. His movements were slow, measured, and careful, but his grip on me was ironclad.

The way he kissed me was soft. The way his tongue dragged across my bottom lip was tentative while he explored the way I tasted all over again.

I wanted so much more from him than what he was giving me, but with every soft touch, every kiss he left on the corner of my mouth—my eyelids, my cheeks—I was losing myself.

No. Finding myself.

Fane dragged open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down the column of my throat. The hand that had settled at the nape of my neck was strong, moving my head slowly to give himself better access while also making sure it was supported.

Every touch made me feel lighter than I had been the second before. Every swipe of his tongue against my heated skin was like a burst of light behind my closed eyes, littering my pitch-black sky with stars.

So many I was losing count.

So many that when they started to fall, I used every single one to attach a wish to until I had none left, and I was right back where I started, in the only place I wanted to be.

“God, I missed you.” Fane pushed the words into the skin of my throat. Into the spot just behind my ear that made my entire body erupt into goose bumps. When his mouth finally kissed me again, every part of the remaining walls around us crumbled until it was just him and me.

My fingers pressed against the warm skin under his shirt, and my whole body shivered, like I was shaking off snow that had settled over me during the longest winter of my life.

It was intoxicating—the feel of his skin—but using my hands wasn’t enough. I wanted him pressed against me, with nothing between us. No space, clothes, or fucking misunderstandings.

None of it.

“Fane,” I rasped in the space between kisses, and just the sight of him made my knees shake. Eyes hooded, hair mussed, lips swollen. “I need more.”

“You’ll—”

“Tell you if anything is too much,” I whispered against his lips and held his gaze when I slowly started to sink to my knees.

The way he looked at me made me feel beautiful. Adored. He told me once that his whole world started and ended with me and for the first time in a long time, I believed him.

“You don’t—” he rasped, cutting himself off with a shake of his head.

“I can stop.” I looked up at him, an eyebrow raised with my hand frozen on his zipper. That definitely shut him up.

The smirk on my face melted away the moment I reached a hand into his briefs and freed his cock.

A rush of air left Fane’s lungs, and a large, broad hand settled on the back of my head. That single touch sent my pulse thrumming. Making the heartbeat that settled at the apex of my thighs throb and my pussy clench around nothing. Aching.

My mouth started to water the longer I looked at him. Long and thick and heavy. I wrapped my hand around his base, squeezing once before gliding my hand up and down. Fane’s hips shot forward, a string of expletives falling from his mouth, and I met his hooded, sparkling eyes with mine as I dragged my tongue up the underside of his cock until I reached the head, taking my time trailing my tongue through his slit and tasting the drop of pre-cum.

“Holy fuck, Cali. ”

Slowly, I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks, before easing the rest of him past my lips. His eyes were transfixed on the way he disappeared into my mouth—inch by inch—until he hit the back of my throat, and I was breathing through my nose. I swallowed, desperate to take him even further, moaning at the sounds pouring out of him when I reached up and wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit.

I took my time tasting him.

Until he couldn’t help himself, and his hips started to move.

The grip he had on my hair tightened, the strands pulling with the perfect amount of pain and I released my hold on his cock, moving around to cup his balls, reveling at the choked inhale he made.

“Christ, Calista. You’re doing so fucking good,” he murmured, his other hand dragging a thumb lightly over my cheek in complete and total contrast to the way his hips were picking up speed, the way his hand shifted from my hair to the back of my neck, trying his best to be careful but unable to stop himself from sliding into my mouth. Down my throat.

Another moan vibrated in my chest, pulling him from the haze he’d been in. His movements slowed, his eyes widening with concern. I could see the unspoken question forming on his lips—if I was okay, if I wanted him to stop.

Before he could so much as pull out an inch, I was frantically unbuttoning my jeans. When I managed to slide a finger into my soaking wet folds—when the tip of my finger started to make short, restrained circles over my sensitive clit—my eyes rolled back, and I released another whimpering moan. The vibration of the sound made him thrust down my throat so far that my air supply was cut off completely.

I looked up at him only to be met with the devilish smile on his face. The sight of him like that, looming above me, made my core clench and body shake.

“I’ll move when you come.” His focus flickered between where my lips were wrapped around him and where my hand disappeared into my jeans.

My body racked with a sob that couldn’t escape, with his tightening grip on my hair and that aching need to be filled, the building pressure in my chest making every sensation maddening.

It was seconds before I started to come. My body jolting, throat constricting. Fane hissed through his teeth before he released his hold on me and pulled out of my mouth entirely.

For a heartbeat all we could do was watch each other, chests heaving. With a ringing in my ears so intense, I was honestly impressed I hadn’t just flopped into a pile of open nerve endings on the floor.

Fane’s cock jerked between us, drawing my attention back to him, at the fact that he hadn’t come yet. I reached for him, my own arousal still glistening on my outstretched fingers when he hauled me to my feet, his hand snapping out to encircle my wrist and I watched as he pulled my fingers to his mouth.

Holy fucking Hell.

His tongue swirled over my digits, my knees still way too unsteady for the way the sensation moved through my body. My nipples were budding to impossibly tight peaks, and the slickness between my thighs was so bad that I might never be able to wear these jeans again.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” His voice was rough and commanding, but his arm around me was steady and sure as he lifted me off the ground and carried me across the house.

“Yes,” I breathed, my whole body a pulsing live wire. “Are you going to fuck me now?”

That devilish grin came back in full force as soon as he set me on the bed. “I’m not going to fuck you, Cali,” he murmured, reaching for the hem of my shirt. “I’m going to savor you.”

I lifted my arms above my head, pushing through the pinching in my chest at the motion. Fane pulled the loose cotton off me, discarding it in a corner of the room and setting his gaze on me.

Every hair on my body seemed to stand on end. We were thunder clouds, electricity bouncing between our bodies, skirting across the surface of my skin. My lips were tingling, the tips of my fingers, my eyelids, my fucking bones were rattling at the way he looked at me.

Fane knelt before me, his hands steady as he spread my legs to make room for himself. Without warning, he took one sensitive nipple between his teeth, coaxing a shuddering gasp from me, before he released it with a soft pop.

“You’re not wearing a bra, Calista.”

“They’re…they suck.”

“If I pull these jeans down, are you going to have panties on?” He spoke softly, mouth dragging across my skin until he reached my other nipple, but not before placing one tender kiss on the deep purple bruising that had bloomed over my chest. His movements slowed down at that, his eyes lingering.

“Fane, it doesn’t hurt,” I whispered, and of course, that was a lie. My entire body was aching like I’d just been tossed to the side by a charging bull, but if he stopped now, I was going to lose my ever-loving mind. Every pinch, every ache, it was insignificant. Utterly unimportant in the light of what he was doing to me.

I saw the moment the decision was made in his mind, that he was going to trust me on this, that I’d tell him when it was too much.

It would be too much when I was dead, so there was no chance I was stopping a single thing, especially with the sort of words that were pouring out of his mouth.

“Your cunt, Calista. Is it soaked?”

I nodded my head lightly, and he tutted the way he always did when he was after my words.

“Yes,” I rasped, my hand sinking into the longer hair at the back of his head. “It is.”

“And the panties?” He trailed a finger down the center of my chest, down my stomach, which tensed and released at the light contact of his touch.

“No,” I gasped. “No. None. I have none.”

“Dirty girl,” he chided, lips curving into a wicked grin.

His kiss was all teeth and tongue. So consuming my head was spinning until he released my bottom lip with a sharp nip. With one arm wrapped securely around my back, he hauled me further up the bed, his other splayed over my ribs. The rough and worn pads of his fingers grounding me. Unraveling me.

Lifting off me, I watched him reach back to grab a fistful of his own shirt, pulling it off and throwing it in the same general direction he tossed my shirt.

He was a sight to behold. Just so blindingly beautiful.

Solid lines, valleys, and hills of sculpted muscles decorated with tattoos that made no sense and all the sense in the world. Those two words that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of tattooed over his heart. I couldn’t help myself when I slowly sat up and reached my fingers out to glide over them.

He watched me do it, tracking every movement. Didn’t rush me even though I could feel his heart hammering under the tips of my fingers.

There would be time for softness later, and I was glad for this moment of it now, but I tucked it away inside where it was safe before lying back down on the bed before him and building up to speak the sort of words I knew would snap any thread of restraint that remained.

That’s what I wanted now. I wanted messy, unrestrained, maddening.

“I want you to take off my jeans,” I breathed, “and taste me.”

His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, eyes sparkling and nostrils flaring imperceptibly. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” My heart was thrashing while I pushed the words at him. Words that always sat on the tip of my tongue whenever he touched me but were hard for me to get out, no matter how much I wanted to.

Fane made quick work of my jeans until I was completely bare before him. He settled between my thighs, and as he spoke, he started to push my legs open wider, exposing me more.

“Taste you here?” He placed an open-mouthed kiss on my inner thigh.

I shook my head despite the pain, the edge of it dulled by the roaring in my ears. “No.”

“What about here?” He kissed the other thigh.

“Fane,” I whimpered, hands reaching for his hair, lifting my hips in desperation.

“You have the most perfect pussy, Calista.” He spoke the words reverently. “Did you know that?” And then he dragged his lips across my folds, and I was pretty sure I passed out for a second.

“Th-thank you.” I watched him staring right at my sex. Aching and wet and desperate for his touch.

“So polite,” he murmured, flicking his tongue across my clit, making me cry out. “But I don’t want polite. I want to hear you beg for exactly what you want.”

“Please,” I whispered. “ Please , I…I want you to eat my pussy.”

“Your what pussy?” He had his eyes on me, and my eyes almost rolled back into my skull when I felt his breath skitter across my sensitive flesh. “You’re fucking leaking for me, baby. Tell me.”

“My perfect pussy,” I gasped just as Fane dragged his tongue up the length of my slit. The feeling of it was so intense after being spread wide for him, waiting and aching, that my legs tried to close. Even when I pulled his hair, wanting him closer, grinding on his mouth so desperately I wasn’t sure he could even breathe.

When he pushed two fingers into me, hard and steadfast, there was no hope for me. I broke apart. Shattering repeatedly, my body shaking and my legs falling limp.

When Fane moved over top of me, I felt him settle his body against mine with just the right amount of pressure before he dropped the softest kiss to my hairline, right near where they had to stitch me closed.

When he started to push off, I clung to him, my fingers digging into the muscles on his shoulders and back, legs coming up to circle his waist.

“Condom,” he panted, arms shaking where he held himself up.

“You don’t need one,” I said. I was desperate for there to be nothing between us. I wanted all of him. “There’s been no one but you.”

He frowned at me, confused.

“I said you made me try to want someone else. Not that I ever did. I’ve always been just yours, Fane.” I tried to pull him closer to me with my legs, but there was no use in trying to overpower him.

Fane got off the bed, shucking off his jeans until he was standing completely naked.

His golden skin wrapped around defined muscles. A little grin on his mouth when he caught me staring at the ridiculous rubber duck on his thigh.

Instead of climbing back over me, Fane settled on his knees between my thighs and reached out to grip my hips. He hauled me onto his lap, my body still on the bed, until I could feel the head of his cock at my entrance.

He gripped himself in one hand, running his swollen tip along the seam of my pussy, coating himself in my arousal.

“So wet for me,” he hummed quietly. “Always such a good girl, aren’t you, Rosie?”

His eyes flicked to mine just as I started to feel him push into me, stretching me wide until I was sure I’d never been so full in my life. Until my fingers that were clawing at the sheets did nothing to keep me grounded, and I was having an out of fucking body experience.

“So fucking perfect,” Fane gritted out between his clenched teeth. “Look at you. Taking me so well.”

His words wrapped around me, soothing the slight sting of being stretched to accommodate him, helping my body start to relax. The moment my muscles softened, Fane gave my hips a firm pull, sheathing himself inside me fully, his body folding over mine and capturing my cry with his mouth.

When he started to move, it was safe to say I short circuited.

Everywhere he touched me was too much, too sensitive. The feel of his cock, sliding all the way out of me, slow and torturous, until he slammed back in, hitting so deep I felt it in my chest.

I felt incredible. The pain and tenderness of my body from before were completely gone, healed and whole after being covered in the blazing rays of sun that came directly from Fane.

“More,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his biceps.

He shook his head. Face set with determination, one hand holding my hip so tight I knew there would be marks left behind.

“Please,” I sobbed. “Give me more.”

With a guttural growl of defeat, of finally giving in, Fane pulled out of me. He flipped me over and thrust back inside before I even had time to take a breath.

“Hold the headboard.” He spoke next to my ear, voice rough and thick and sounding every bit as intoxicated as I felt. “And remember that you asked for this.”

I did exactly what he asked. My yelp of surprise earned a throaty chuckle from him when the palm of his hand made contact with my ass.

The pace he set was hard and fast, and all I could do was focus on my grip on the frame of the bed, my knuckles turning white at the effort of holding on.

My head was spinning at the onslaught of pleasure I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling, at withstanding. The smack of his body meeting mine was all that surrounded us, mixed in only with the mumbled praises he gave me.

“So fucking tight. You’re perfect.”

“You’re dripping, baby. Down your thighs, I can see it.”

“ Heaven .”

He was everywhere. All around me. Fusing once again to those parts of me he’d settled in before. That he’d ripped away, leaving wounds that never healed.

“Fane, I’m…oh, god.” I tried to turn to look at him, but his chest pressed against my back, and one of his hands dragged down my stomach, brushing over my clit.

His fingers started to move. Firm, sure strokes across the bundle of nerves. When my release barreled into me, I pulled a hand from the headboard, latching onto his forearm, my nails digging in as my mouth opened on a silent scream.

Then he was saying my name, repeating it like a prayer. Pumping into me slowly until he eventually stopped completely and withdrew inch by aching inch.

I was frozen in place, my muscles locked and my hand aching from the hold I still had on the bed frame.

I could feel Fane’s cum leaking down my leg, the mental visual it gave me making my body shiver in delight, loosening my limbs enough that my hand finally dropped its hold and my face unceremoniously hit the pillow.

Fane still had a hold on my hip, keeping my ass in the air.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now,” he hummed, placing a kiss over the stinging skin that he spanked before I felt two fingers drag up my inner thigh, collecting his release a moment before he pushed it back inside of me. I moaned, my pussy clenching around the intrusion of his fingers.

“Perfect,” he murmured, the word flooded with satisfaction. He released his hold on me and gently lowered my body to the bed before curling himself behind me. He pulled a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover us, and settled an arm around my waist, shifting his other under my head.

My eyes were already closed, and I was sure I thanked him for absolutely wrecking me, in those exact words, if his hoarse laugh was anything to go by. I felt it move through me when he placed a kiss just behind my ear and again on my shoulder.

When I felt him take in a deep breath, he started to hum.

The song that we had danced to when I first met him. The same song that he would hold me close to while he moved us around the living room of our old apartment.

Won’t you fall for me?

Won’t you fall for me?

With my love as your garden

Won’t you fall for me?

Won’t you fall for me

From reality?

I am yours in the end

So won’t you fall for me?