Everywhere and Every Way(77)
“For God’s sake, Cal, fuck me! Please, take me now!”
“Good girl.”
He plunged his cock deep inside, burying himself completely. She cried out and hung on, the sheer width and length of him making her squirm from the hot, stretching sensation. Morgan gasped. He completely filled her, allowing no room for anything but the primitive demand to surrender to him. She tried to fight it—her mind gave a good fight—but then he started to move and she gave up and gave in.
Cal gave her no time to shore up her defenses. With every stroke, he claimed her. She hung on to his shoulders while he drove inside her over and over, rocking his hips, putting just the perfect amount of pressure on her clit to keep her from tumbling over but maintaining the sharp edge. She cried his name. She begged. And with one perfect deep thrust, something in her belly shimmered with staggering heat, and she shot apart.
Brutal pleasure flooded through her, turning her boneless. His dim shout told her he had followed her over. Tiny convulsions wracked her body as she drifted down to reality. Helpless to move or make sense out of what had happened, she had one brief moment of clarity in her spent state and wondered if she should politely excuse herself. Maybe he wasn’t the sleepover type. Maybe he hated women sharing his bed or trying to spoon. Maybe—
“Go to sleep, baby.” He wrapped her in his arms and cuddled her against his damp chest. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Morgan closed her eyes.
God, she’d eaten the chips. Every single last one of them, and it was just as she feared.
It had been a mind-blowing experience. And she wanted more.
“Hmm, that’s nice.”
The massage on his bare feet was a bit ticklish, but the warm, wet motions dragged him from a heavy sleep and allowed him to finally surface. Who would’ve thought she’d have a foot fetish? Of course, she’d surprised him in all sorts of wonderful ways last night. But this was—
“Ugh!” He jumped up from the bed and found a delighted Balin by his feet, tongue hanging out. Gross. Gandalf was by the side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to open his eyes, and all that doggy intensity went haywire when Cal finally sat up.
“Shhh, don’t wake Morgan,” he warned. They wriggled and shook with the need to get up on the bed and treat Morgan to a good tongue bath. Overnight guests weren’t expected, so the dogs probably thought it was snuggle time.
Holding back a smile, he swung his legs around and threw on a pair of sweats. Cal studied Morgan’s sleeping form with fierce satisfaction. He’d made sure there’d be no sneaking out in the middle of the night this time. No distance or politeness or walls up. Last night had changed everything, and he didn’t intend to go back.
Now he just had to convince Morgan he was right.
Even in sleep, she kept to herself, as if not used to sharing her bed or her life with someone. Curled up in the fetal position, face smoothed free of worries, silvery hair spilled messily over her cheek, she looked open and vulnerable. Cal withstood the rush of possessiveness that roared in his head and his dick. This was his woman now. Somehow, someway, she’d dug herself under his skin and stuck.
He led the dogs out of the bedroom and out the front door. Watching them bound around the lawn, frolicking, his mind went over his odd thoughts. He’d never felt this good the morning after. The need for her was strong. But so soon? After one night of great sex? It made no sense. He wasn’t the type to get lovey-dovey or attached. He hadn’t been looking for anything, yet here she was. Just strolled into his life with a haughty, demanding attitude and a rockin’ body, and he fell in one quick swoop.
The dogs finished up, and he headed into the kitchen to give them food and water. While they munched on breakfast, he started up the mega stainless steel coffeemaker and waited for it to finish brewing. How would she react this morning? Would she be cool and distant? Would she want to continue their relationship or term it a one-night occurrence?
He sensed their connection went beyond the physical. The way she’d opened herself up to him last night, and begged so sweetly. The way she stroked him like he was the only one to feed her hunger. The way she worried about protocol before falling asleep wrapped tight in his arms. He’d woken her up three times like an addict needing a hit, and she fell on him with a fervor that matched his own.
Cal waited for his coffee and pondered. The sun spilled through the window and lit up the kitchen. Damn, this felt good. He felt good. Even with Felicia, he was always trying to plan for what she needed next. He’d been besotted, and in lust. He’d envisioned a bright future with her, but he’d never looked into her eyes and knew who she really was. They’d been too young, and not meant for each other.