Page 70 of Ricochet

After he’s opened up to my tongue and finger, I pull out and sit up to grab the bottle of lube.

He opens his eyes, blinks, and frowns at me. “Why’d you stop?”

I can’t help but chuckle because he looks adorable when he pouts. “You want my cock, right?”

He nods. “Yes, please.”

Pouring lube into my hand, I slick up both my fingers and my dick. Bringing my fingers back to his hole, I slowly work two in this time, keeping my eyes on Callum the whole time. His gaze remains locked on mine as he inhales a quiet gasp and his body locks up.

“Relax.” I lean over him and place a featherlight kiss to his jaw. “You know I’m going to take care of you.”

“Fuck off. I’m fine.”

I almost laugh again.

Except his body is still rigid, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

I trace up his jaw with the tip of my tongue as I continue stretching him with two fingers. He’s so fucking tight, the feel of him causing my dick to throb against his. But he also really needs to relax so I don’t fucking hurt him.

“How much did you see tonight?” I whisper against the shell of his ear. “My knife lodged in his chest? The blood on the floor? The way his eyes became nothing more than empty voids as they stared open and lifeless at the ceiling?”

Just like that, all the tension in him uncoils, and I add a third finger.

The groan that comes out of him is pure fucking rapture. His eyes flutter open, and I see it there too. The pleasure, the tranquility he was talking about. It’s as though he’s drunk off it.

“Will you kill for me again?” he asks, the question full of longing and desire.

I don’tlovethe idea of bringing him with me. It’s always dangerous. What if my victim hurts him? What if we get caught? But I could take all the precautions in the world for him because…fuck, heneedsit. I see the way it affects him. I remember how hard he was sleeping in our hotel room that morning after the night on the dock.

“I told you I’d give you anything,” I answer. “I meant it.”

Removing my fingers, I pour a little more lube over my cock and his hole. He’s still relaxed, staring up at me with eyes a little glassy, swimming with the memories I planted in his mind.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

Mine, mine, mine.

I think it, but I still can’t say it.

Not yet.

Lining up the head of my dick with his hole, I gently ease forward. Callum’s breathing picks up, and I wrap my free hand around his cock, stroking to keep him hard. He moans and lifts his hips, and my crown slips past his rim. His mouth opens with a silent cry, and his hands fly to the back of my head to force me down to him where the cry is let loose from his lips to mine.

I give him another couple of inches before slowly pulling back, letting him adjust. But then his legs come up to wrap around the backs of my thighs, and he’s dragging me in. I go as steadily as I can with the weight of his legs pressing desperately against me.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “Fuck, Stone.”

My name on his lips unravels me, and I bury myself deep in his ass.

His fingers are tangled tightly in my hair, and his mouth has traveled down to my jaw, open and sobbing with broken, euphoric noises. His teeth scrape my skin as his nails dig into my scalp. I take every little bite of pain because none of it could compare to the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside him.

“Tell me how you feel, Callum,” I say as I pull back before thrusting back in just as slowly.

Another moan. “I thought it’d hurt, but it doesn’t. I was waiting for the pain, but it’s not there. Not really. It’s just pressure, but…” He speaks between each shallow breath. Another thrust, another moan. “Fuck, so full. It feels good.” He tugs on my hair until I’m looking into his eyes. “Youfeel good.”

“You feel so fucking good too, baby. I knew you would. I knew you’d be fucking perfect.”

He brings my mouth back to his, driving his tongue inside as his hands slide down to my back and his legs tighten around my waist. His nails dig in, and I can’t stop the growl that claws its way up my throat as I pick up the pace, fucking into him in arhythm that’s just past the point of holding back. If I go too far too soon, I might break him. And I don’t want that.