Chapter 69 - Emma

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I woke to the sound of an alarm, though the ringtone wasn't familiar to me. Confused, I tried to sit up in bed, only to find two arms holding me in place—and by in place, I meant on Callan's chest.

Oh, right, he'd showed up at my apartment yesterday. That he'd driven his tired ass all the way to my place just to make sure I was safe said a lot about his character, and I liked him even more for it.

Looking up at him from my place on his chest, I hoped to catch him while he slept—just to be a creep and see what he looked like in his sleep. Was his face soft and smooth, or did he have this intense and hard expression etched into his bones even when he was deep in the land of dreams? Though, I wasn't that lucky to get the answer, at least, not this time.

The alarm was still ringing, and his eyes had cracked open, blinking tiredly down at me. He smirked as he woke up further. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" he asked; his usually silky voice had been replaced by a rougher tone, sending shivers throughout my body.

"Yeah, you're quite comfortable to sleep on. How about you?" My voice always grew softer just when I'd woken up.

"I can't complain." He pressed his dick against my stomach, letting me feel his hard, bare length. Apparently, he'd gone to bed naked. My pussy clenched as if it was begging for something to fill it.

God, the ringing was annoying, especially when I wanted some peace and quiet with one of my dominants. I tried once again to move from atop him just so I could turn off the alarm—he wouldn't let me. Instead, his arms tightened.

"Not so fast, Bella. It's not often I wake up to such a beautiful woman. Let me enjoy it." His left hand traveled from my back to my ass, squeezing it and making my clit throb as easily as if he'd snapped a finger. He didn't really have to do much to get me going, it seemed.

"But the alarm," I moaned. This time, Callan let me go far enough for me to reach my nightstand and turn it off before he dragged me right back.

"What was it for anyway?" I asked. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

I gasped as he smacked my ass, not as a punishment, though, probably because he just felt like it—not that I was complaining. At all. The sting was exquisite, and the way he kneaded the sting away afterward made my breathing just a little bit heavier.

"Nah, I'm the boss. I can show up whenever I damn well please." He smirked. "The alarm was for you, so you wouldn't be late for work."

My eyes widened, because fuck, I'd completely forgotten to set an alarm of my own. Being out partying for a good part of the night and then have Callan show up at my door would undoubtedly do the trick. I'd been too distracted to even think about something like that, but luckily, he had.

Callan never stopped touching me. The hand on my ass traced my G-string and moved a finger down my butt crack. It should've made me embarrassed that he was touching me in such a private and dirty place, but instead, it made me more turned on.

"How much time do we have?" He knew exactly what I was asking for, and shit, that smirk practically made my panties melt.

"Enough," he growled in answer, and with a simple tug, he ripped the panties off me. Though, of course, it couldn't have been simple, but he made it look that way. It stung just where the material dug into my skin, but it only made me burn even hotter.

In a move I didn't expect, he flipped our positions so that he was on top and I was on my back. How he'd managed to do that in this tiny bed was beyond my comprehension; it was impressive, all the same.

He let me see him, fully and completely, as he rose to his knees. His dick was curved upwards, and it was so big I was afraid he'd tear me open. The metallic piercing in his tip glinted at me wickedly, and I was both nervous and excited to find out how that would feel like inside me. At some point, I wanted to explore every part of him, included that vicious looking piercing. That was...if Callan would ever allow me to do it.

Callan gripped his shaft, stroking it slowly as he looked down on me with fire in his eyes. "Open your legs," he commanded as he kept jacking off at a slow and steady pace.

Blushing, I let my knees fall apart.

His eyes went straight to my sex, taking in the wetness gathering at my opening. "Touch yourself for me. Show me how you would pleasure yourself if you were alone."

I couldn't possibly do that. Could I...? It definitely hadn't been a request, but the timid part of myself was battling against my wishes to submit to Callan's control.

When his eyes narrowed in warning, my breath hitched, and before I could register it, my hand was sliding down my body. It tickled my skin as I moved it between my breasts, down my stomach, until finally, my fingers met the wet opening of my pussy. His eyes kept track of my movements, seeming enthralled by me.

As I gathered some of the liquid, I went up and smeared it across my clit, making it slippery. I never liked touching my clit without the hood over; I was too sensitive, and it almost hurt if I did that—hurt deliciously, but hurt, nevertheless. With two fingers, I started rubbing them in a circular motion, and even as good as it felt, that wasn't what stole my breath. The way Callan was looking at me right now was what stole it. It was...intense. Hell, he was always intense, but this was intense intense. It was like he wanted to devour me and leave no scraps.

At some point, he'd stopped jacking off, but now he started again—going slow, dragging this out as much as he could. His thumb wiped the tip, collecting the pre-cum, and used it as lubrication. My eyes were just as focused on his length as he was on my pussy.

I'd never done this before, masturbating while someone watched. It made me feel vulnerable in a way sex hadn't. Sex was, of course, insanely intimate with the right person, but this...this was even more so.

My nipples were stiff and begging for attention, which I gave them, rolling the hard points between my fingers of my other hand. I pinched them enough to feel that painful sort of pleasure. They were a direct path to my clit and playing with them one at a time made me moan loud enough to wake the neighbors.

"Fuck your pussy for me," he directed, and this time I happily obliged. I was too desperate for the pleasure promised to me.

I slid a finger inside my slick sex. It went in smoothly. I'd never been this wet or turned on when I've masturbated before. Callan was making me much hornier than I could've ever gotten by myself.

While I still felt some embarrassment doing this, it had taken a backseat to the bliss of an orgasm not far out of reach.

"Two more," Callan grunted, his jaw clenched as he kept watching me fuck myself. "Use two more fingers."

The second went in almost as easily as the first, but the third was more difficult. I was tight, I knew that, but I could still handle three of my fingers; They were long and thin. I would've struggled so much more if it had been any one of my dominants' hands instead—either of theirs.

My eyes were stuck on Callan's hand and how he fucked it while watching me. He gripped his dick hard—harder than I would've dared to—and once in a while, he would gather his pre-cum to make his shaft even slicker.

The smell of sex hung in the air like an aphrodisiac, and the sound of our collective moans and groans urged us to keep going; faster, harder, more.

I could feel the orgasm building in every cell of my body, but of course, Callan couldn't let me have it—not yet.

"Stop," he ordered me suddenly, but I knew it wasn't sudden at all. He'd observed me closely, knowing the second I was about to orgasm.

"Get on your hands and knees. I need to fuck you when you come. I want to feel your pussy grip my cock and milk it." He leaned in closely and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to come so far inside you that you'll be dripping my cum all day."

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