“Fuck me,” I hissed. “Please, Callum.”
I felt him shake out of his jeans, relieved to feel the swell of his cock against my burning skin. “Gonna take you in the ass,” he grunted. “Gonna take you fucking hard.”
My stomach lurched, nervous of the intrusion, and I was right to be. He spat on his hand to lube me up, but it was fucking tight. I squirmed under him, letting out a yelp as he pressed the head of his cock inside.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “You’re gonna milk my fucking cock dry.”
“Do it,” I rasped. “Make it hurt, I don’t care.”
“I hope you fucking bleed.”
I was pretty damn sure I would. It hurt like fuck, a searing pain right the way through me as he forced his entry.
“Do it!” I screeched. “Fuck me, Callum, just fuck me!”
He hissed and spluttered and ground his hips against my ass. Then he fucked me. Hard. It hurt so fucking bad, but it felt so fucking good.
“You wanted this,” he groaned. “You fucking wanted this.”
I had no breath, no words. Just pain. Glorious fucking pain.
“Gonna come in your dirty fucking hole,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
He wrapped his hand around my thigh, thumb circling my clit as his cock jerked in my ass. It was enough. Enough to send me tumbling, exploding in beautiful release. My knees went from under me, and only his weight kept me from falling. He pulled out slowly, hands under my thighs to support me as I found my feet.
He spread my ass cheeks, grunting at the view.
“I can see inside you,” he growled. His fingers stretched me open, straining bruised flesh. “Your arsehole is fucking ruined, you’re gaping so fucking wide.”
“It’s fucking sore. I’ll be walking with a limp for a fucking month.”
He let me go, and I rose slowly, flinching at the pain. His eyes were on mine as I turned around, softer this time.
“You alright, Soph?”
I nodded. “I’m great.”
“Sure?”
“Deadly.”
“What d’you wanna do now?” he asked, reaching for his t-shirt. I stroked his chest before he covered it from view, but he didn’t allow me long. His mood had changed, I could feel it, feel the shutters coming down.
“Go home,” I said. “Sleep. Rest my poor battered asshole.”
“You need a lie down? You know... aftercare and shit?”
I smiled. “I’m fine, thank you. Nice thought, though.”
He shuffled on the spot. “Ain’t no good with this small talk shit, dunno what to say.”
I reached for his hand, stroking his knuckles with my thumb. “You don’t need to say anything. Just don’t leave.”
“Ain’t going nowhere,” he smiled. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
My stomach did the dance again, the one packed with butterflies on speed. I didn’t want Callum Jackson to go anywhere.
***
Chapter Ten
Sophie
I squeezed Callum’s thigh, but he didn’t respond, staring blankly out the taxi window at the city lights. When the car turned onto East Veil he pulled his hood up, wrapped himself that little bit tighter.
“My stop,” he said. “Thanks for the ride and... you know.”
The driver pulled up on a side street by the East Veil subway, and Callum slipped away without any more words, raising his hand only briefly before disappearing into the night. He moved quickly, like an alley cat, keeping close to the shadows of the buildings with his head down low.
“Canary Wharf, Miss?”
I met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Willed myself to say yes.
“Follow him please. Catch him up.”
Shit.
We caught up with Callum Jackson as he crossed the street by the old retail units. I wound down the window, beckoning him over.
He leaned down, his face right next to mine. “What you forgot?”
“You,” I said. “Come home with me. Stay.”
His face was a picture, eyes wide with shock. “Stay?! With you, like?”
“Yes. With me.”
“Can’t,” he said. “Gotta get back for Casey.”
I could feel the pulse in my temples. “Bring her.”
He smiled. “Ain’t no good indoors. She’ll mess things up.”
“So, we’ll cope.”
His expression turned dark, lost in bewilderment. “You shitting me? This some other game...?”
“No,” I said. “No game.”
He looked into the darkness towards tower two. “Shit, I’m not sure, Soph. She’ll trash the place.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her.”