His pupils flared, his fingers tightening on my thigh. “You regret it?”
“I regret not tasting you. Not watching your face when you first slid inside me.” My nails raked down his back like I could carve the memory in this time. “I regret not making you fall apart for me the way I did for you.”
He seemed pleased, a small smirk on his face, before he said, “Still not the answer I asked for.” His fingers continued a torturous rhythm, and I wanted to scream more than his name. “You’re gonna come so fucking hard your legs won’t work. But not until I get what I want.” He inserted a second finger and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
“I’ve been fantasizing about you for years,” I gasped, barely able to form words.
He ceased movement completely, and I cried out in desperation. “Years?”
“Yes, years. Can’t tell you how many thirst traps I have saved on my phone. How many photos I’ve screenshot. I’ve watched you since you were up and coming inF3. I’ve touched myself to your voice. To your podiums. To the way you call melove.”
The surprise on his face completely overtook the desire. I feared I ruined the moment with the confession, and I bit my tongue to prevent any further embarrassment. His hand was still in my pussy, after all, and my entire body was aching for release.
“You’re not fucking with me?”
“Do I sound like I’m lying—ohhhfuck.” His fingers curled again, and my walls clamped around him. My body responded in all sorts of ways; tingles spreading, toes curling in my heels, breath hitching.
“Say it, and I’ll give it to you. Say you’ve wanted me, baby.” He kissed my jaw, then growled against my skin. “Say it and I’ll let you fall apart all over my fucking fingers.”
Not the “baby.”
My ovaries couldn’t handle that.
“If you want proof, I’ll show you,” I told him. “Please—don’t stop—I need it,Callum.”
He rewarded me with a filthy moan and picked up the pace, thumb circling my clit like he owned it. The pressure that had been building reached a peak, my blood simmering as I rode the edge of an orgasm, needing just a little… bit… more…
Then he latched onto my nipple and sucked—hard.
I detonated.
No warning. No chance to hold it off. My orgasm crashed through me like I’d been waiting my whole life to come on his fingers. No one had ever made me come like that. Not with just their fingers.
Not likethis.
Not likehim.
He slid my panties down my thighs until they slipped over my ankles and onto the carpet. I found the button of his jeans, and when I reached into his boxers and wrapped my fingers around his cock, I froze.
Thick. Heavy.Hung.
My jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” No way my pussy was surviving this a second time.
And then I saw it.
The glint ofmetal. A silver barbell pierced the tip—cool to the touch, glistening withpre-cum.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “You’re pierced?”
He twitched in my hand. “You didn’t notice in Miami?” he rasped, voice wrecked.
“Apparently I missed out on more than I thought,” I said, giving him a long, slow stroke. My legs were still trembling from my orgasm, and I already knew I’d be sore. This was a different level of desperation.
He reachedfor the drawer, yanked it open, and grabbed a foil packet like it was a fucking pit stop. Efficient. Unapologetic.
And when he tore it open with his teeth—Jesus Christ—I nearly came again. I stroked him once, and he hissed through his teeth, bracing his hand on the desk beside my hip.
I did it again—slower this time—and swiped my thumb over the piercing, teasing the bead ofpre-cum.
