I’m out of breath and a little dazed, so I just nod. There’s so much love in his eyes. I can feel him pressing up against my pussy, almost pushing inside, and my heart kicks into overdrive. Slowly, slowly, he begins to apply more pressure…
I suddenly feel so full. It was one thing having his fingers inside me, but this is a totally different ball game. Callan swears, hovering over me, going still. “Fuck, bluebird. You’re so tight. God damn it.” He clenches his jaw, screwing his eyes shut. I’m pretty sure he’s not even halfway inside me, and it’s starting to sting.
Dragging out this part will suck. I wrap my arms around Callan, digging my fingernails into his back. “Just do it, Cal. Please…” He hisses, swearing again. “Please, baby…”
The second time I beg him, he does it. Thrusting forward, I feel resistance and then pain as he pushes all the way inside me. I cry out, and Callan crushes me against his chest, holding onto me for dear life, whispering soft, beautiful things into my hair, my neck, my ear. He holds me like that until the pain subsides. Over his shoulder, tiny birds dart overhead, calling out to one another, cartwheeling and pivoting in wild dogfight maneuvers.
After a few minutes, the sharp, searing pain turns to a dull throb. I angle my hips, testing out the water, seeing how bad the pain will be if I rock against him. Surprisingly it’s not too bad. Callan groans as I move again, this time pulling back enough that I can feel the friction between us when he slides back inside me. It feels hot and raw and kind of good. On top of me, Callan’s doing his best not to move at all. I can tell by the way he’s holding his breath that this is tough for him. “God, I want to fuck you so bad, Coralie. This is so fucking hard.”
“Then do it. Fuck me, Callan. Please…I want you to.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. You won’t. Please.”
That’s all it takes. Callan draws all the way out of me, then, thrusting back inside me carefully, and then repeating the process. He’s not rough, though I can tell he wants to be. I move against him, grinding my hips against his, encouraging him to speed up.
“Fuck, Coralie.” He hisses the words out between gritted teeth, and then he blows out hard down his nose. Lord knows why, but his need turns me on so much. I can barely keep myself together as I rock against him. I know he’s so close to coming. I can read it everywhere—in the way the muscles in his arms are twitching and shaking. The way his eyes are narrowed, barely even open. By the way two deep lines have formed between his eyebrows. And also by the way his cock feels inside me. Every small movement, every small pulse sends a shockwave through me, and he’s getting harder and harder by the second.
He’s holding back, and I don’t want him too. I want to witness him coming, feel it happen inside me in order to feed this insane craving I have to get as physically close to him as possible. I lean down and around, twisting my body underneath him a little so I can take hold of Callan’s balls. It’s almost as if I’ve electrocuted him. “Jesus, Coralie. You’re gonna make me come if you do that. Fuck.”
“Good.” I don’t know where this inner, brazen girl has come from but I like her. I arch my back a little, brushing my bare breasts against Callan’s chest, and I carefully massage and tease his balls as he fucks me. In a few moments, Callan’s back arches too and he’s burying his face in my shoulder, groaning as he climaxes. I feel all of it, and it’s incredible.
He holds onto me and he won’t let go. Not that I want him to. I’ve never felt so connected with anyone in my whole life. Before Callan came along, I was alone, though. I had no one. Just the ghost of my mother and dusty boxes of memories. With him in my life, I have Jo. I have Tina and Shane. I have hope.
“I love you so much,” I say, running my fingers lightly through his hair.
“I know you do, bluebird. I love you, too.”
Three months later he repeats this into my hair as I finally pluck up the courage to tell him that I’m pregnant. We were safe. We were smart. But sometimes, no matter how safe or smart you are, fate has other plans for you.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CORALIE
Terminal Velocity
NOW
Terminal velocity. I’ve known about terminal velocity since high school, but I’ve never really felt its impact on my life before. Not directly.
The constant speed that a freely falling object eventually reaches when the resistance of the medium through which it is falling prevents further acceleration.
That’s the definition you’ll get when you look up the term in the dictionary. There comes a point where you’re moving as fast as you can go, and the things around you that have prevented you from increasing in speed toward your destination no longer have any bearing to your flight path.