Page 54 of Then and Now (The Edge of Retaliation 3)
I can hear the laughter still going on inside.
I don’t care.
I don’t care if they all walk out right now and see Tatum. I don’t care if they hear my whimpers of pleasure. I don’t care. Oh, god, I don’t care.
I arch my back as his tongue action gets stronger, deeper, until I can’t take a single second more. I clench onto his hair as the best orgasm I’ve had in years washes over my body, making my knees weak and my legs tremble. Tatum holds onto me, licking until every last shudder is ripped from my body.
Only then do I beg, “Fuck me. Please.”
He stands up, panting with lust, and his fingers move to his jeans, unbuttoning them. He frees his cock and I stare down at it, under the moonlight it looks … eerily perfect. He strokes it a few times, running his hands up and down the thick length and then he steps forward, lifting me so my legs wrap around his hips. He reaches between us, pulls my panties to the side and then his cock is in me.
So fucking deep in me.
The stretch and burn makes me moan with utter pleasure as I adjust to his thick length. He growls in my ear, and then slowly begins fucking me, dragging his dick in and out, making me hang on even tighter. I press my mouth to the warm skin on his neck and I kiss it, smothering my moans as his thrusts become even more frantic.
We don’t have long.
Seconds, even.
If someone comes out now, we’re done for.
That’s something they’ll never unsee.
Yet I don’t want it to stop.
The thrill of knowing that we could be caught at any second makes everything feel so much better. The erotic sensations rolling through my body right now are out of this world. My pussy clenches around his cock as his thrusts become frantic, and when I cum, I do it with my teeth biting into the flesh of his shoulder.
With a feral hiss, he follows behind a minute or two later, his whole body winding up tight, and then releasing as his cock pulses inside of me. We’re both panting, both clinging to each other, and I would have to say, that was worth the wait.
The years of wondering how it would feel.
All the fantasies.
It was worth every fucking second.
Fucking Tatum will go down as the best night of my life.
No doubt about it.
I’m in heaven.
20
CALLIE
Madeline isn’t happy.
It’s written all over her face.
She’s staring at Tanner and me, with this look that says she’s about to combust. I can’t say I blame her. I mean, I’d be pretty uncomfortable if someone just told me my boyfriend was in love with the girl we’re staying with. That’s not a nice feeling for anyone, and I’m not cold enough to think she shouldn’t have feelings about it.
Still, she’s glaring at me like she wants to gouge my eyes out, and that’s starting to get on my nerves. I haven’t done anything to her, not really. They came to my apartment, insisted on staying, if she’s angry at anyone, it should be Tanner for putting her in this position. Not me.
She’s made a few moves toward him, as if over-compensating to make me realize they’re together, as if I didn’t know that already, insert eye roll here. She climbed on his lap and made out with him and has been practically hanging off him for the last hour, which, by the looks of things, isn’t going down well with him.
He snapped at her to fucking stop, and now she’s sitting on the sofa, acting like she’s going to claw my eyes out if I even swing them in his general direction.
Still, I’m having a great night, so she can glare away.
We’ve laughed, all of us. We actually sat back, drank, and laughed. We told stories, we spoke of memories, and we chuckled until our bellies hurt. That has to be the nicest feeling I’ve felt in such a long time. It feels like we’re all meant to be here, like maybe this is how we’re going to find our freedom.
Maybe we’ll all get past this and just fix the issues and go back to being happy.
Also, I’m drunk, so that’s probably not the case and I’m just fantasizing about the impossible.
Whatever, it sounds nice.
Tatum and Jo walk in from outside, and one look at her flushed cheeks and I know damn well what she just did out there. My mouth drops open as she meets my eyes and gives me a look that tells me if I call her out, she’s probably going to punch me in the face, and yet I can’t wipe the grin. I wiggle my brows at her, and she shakes her head with a laugh and goes into the kitchen to get another drink.
