“Thorpe, you said . . .”
“You assumed.” He corrected. “You’re not dictating the terms, Callie.”
“I know.” She thrashed beneath him.
“Problem, pet?”
Callie bent her knees, writhed, lifted her hips restlessly. “You make me ache.”
Thorpe couldn’t help but smile. “You do the same to me. Relax.”
“Hurry.”
“Always topping from the bottom,” he chided. But that was part of her charm.
Before she could reply, he set his mouth over her pu**y and began consuming as much of Callie as he could. He’d dreamed of her. Her scent had driven him to obsess about her flavor day after day, seemingly forever. But the moment she hit his tongue, it was like tasting a delicacy he constantly craved. Like Callie herself, her pu**y was sweet and tart and soft . . . with just a hint of something he hadn’t encountered in any other woman. And doubted he ever would again.
Her soft gasp went straight to his cock, and he raised up on his elbows, his thumbs parting the swollen lips of her sex. He lashed her hardening clit with gentle, rhythmic strokes, concentrating on growing her need. Her skin turned a rosy pink. She grabbed at the sheets with restless fingers. Her hips moved in time with his mouth. Her gasps became moans.
Lifting his lips for a moment, he nipped at her thigh and tended to her engorged bundle of nerves with sure fingers. “Does that feel good, pet?”
“Yes.” Callie thrashed under him. “Please . . . More.”
Thorpe smiled, eager to indulge her. He bent to her again, raking his tongue through her sultry sex. This time, he didn’t bother with a slow courting of her flesh. He seized her, sucking at her clit, drawing her deeper into pleasure, wordlessly demanding her orgasm. If he had one chance to taste her, he planned to shove her to the brink, take her power, then drive it back into her so she never forgot this night.
Her moans shortened, went up an octave. Under his hands, her thighs clenched. The rest of her body tensed. Her fingers found their way into his hair and pulled. A shudder slammed down his spine. She’d be a hellcat to f**k, an active, clawing, screaming lover he’d want again and again.
And if he didn’t stop thinking that, he would rip his pants off and find out for himself. Staying on course and making her feel treasured was more important than getting off.
Thorpe slid two fingers inside her. Oh, f**k, was she ever tight. He gave grudging credit to Kirkpatrick for lasting as long as he had. Being inside Callie’s little sweltering cunt was one of his favorite fantasies. When he was alone and tired of all the women who joined Dominion because they’d read some f**king book and had no clue what submission actually meant, he escaped to his shower, stroked himself, and imagined her.
Probing Callie gently, it didn’t take him long to learn where she was sensitive. Her bucking body and imploring whimpers gave her away.
He went after her in earnest, eating at her like a juicy piece of fruit, f**king her thoroughly with his fingers and tongue—and wishing to hell he could mount and claim her.
“Thorpe!”
She was begging for his permission. It was in her voice. In her swollen pu**y. In her clutching fingers. In her heels as they dug into the mattress beside him.
Fuck, yes. He was going to make Callie splinter into little pieces before him. And he was going to enjoy the hell out of seeing her shatter—this time for him and him alone.
Keeping his fingers tucked tightly inside her, Thorpe worked his way up her body, kissing and nipping her stomach, the underside of her br**sts, her ni**les, her neck, then her lush bow of a mouth. God, he hadn’t kissed her in forever and he’d missed it so damn much. He wanted to crawl inside her, take her, thrill her, please her.
He wanted to own her.
Imfuckingpossible.
They had here and now. Tomorrow . . . he had no idea what would happen. He was used to controlling most everything around him. But he couldn’t control Callie or the future. That fact chafed him like nothing else.
Thorpe sank deeper into her mouth, prowling past her plump lips to curl his tongue around hers and capture every bit of her sweet response he could. He moaned, fitting his body against hers and slowly withdrawing his fingers from her pu**y, letting them hover just over her clit, where she needed him to touch her most.
“Hands over your head, pet.”
Callie complied without pausing for even a heartbeat. “Please. I need you . . .”
She did, but not in the way she begged for. She needed the limits he’d once given her. He’d stopped because she’d turned to Kirkpatrick. And he hadn’t fought for her. Now she sought to leave him altogether.
You’re only getting what you deserve.