Because He Breaks Me by Hannah Ford Page B

he groaned.
    “Callum,” I whispered. “Oh, Callum.”
    The sound of his name on my lips made him move faster and he held the back of my neck gently as he fucked me, the two of his moaning into each other’s mouths as he kissed me again.
    I felt my orgasm building, and I could tell from the way his kiss became deeper and more intense that he could tell it was building too. This time, though, he didn’t tease me.
    Instead, he kissed me harder, his hands tangling in my hair.
    He pulled away and stared into my eyes, the pleasure on his face apparent as he fucked me.
    “Callum,” I whispered. “I’m going to come.”
    “Come, baby,” he said. His eyes were still locked onto mine, and I felt like he could see me, really see me, felt like I was exposed to him, not just my body, but everything, my soul, my mind, my emotions. I felt like he was seeing every part of me, was loving every part of me.
    The electricity crackled and burned, and he put his mouth back on mine as I came, my pussy gripping his hard dick, taking it all inside of me. As the first pulse of my orgasm ripped through my body, I felt him spasm inside of me, pumping into me hard, making me take every ounce of his come.
    “That’s it,” he groaned. “That’s it, baby, take my cum in that tight little pussy.”
    His dirty words mixed with the way he was moving inside of me, how laid bare I’d felt with him, caused the next pulse of my orgasm to intensify, and I cried out, but he silenced me with a kiss as he pumped more cum into me.
    I felt the wave of my orgasm crest inside of my body, felt like Callum was right there riding it with me as I broke into a million little pieces.
    He stayed inside of me for a moment as my breathing began to return to normal, pulling me close to him as we both recovered. The heat that had burned through my body began to ebb away, and Callum grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around me as he pulled me close to him, holding me in his arms.
    Now that I was coming down from my high, reality was starting to set in, and I felt the first pang of anxiety.
    I’d let him in again.
    I did my best to do what my therapist back in Michigan had always told me to do when I got anxious, which was to try and stay in the moment, to take each thought and label it according to what was really going on, not according to which emotions had attached to my thoughts.
    I was trying to figure out how I could keep my emotions out of the fact that I’d just had sex with a man who’d been acting like a total jackass to me, a man who had basically broken into my apartment, when Callum broke the silence.
    “I’ve never done that before,” he said, his voice cutting into my thoughts.
    “What?”
    “What we just did.” His fingers moved lazily down my back, and I felt myself get hot between my legs again.
    I laughed. “I think you’ve had sex before Callum.”
    “No.” He shook his head. “Not like that.”
    “Not like what?”
    “Not vanilla sex.”
    “What’s vanilla sex?”
    “That,” he said. “No ropes. No whips. No handcuffs.”
    “You’ve never had sex without that stuff?”
    “Not since…” he trailed off.
    “Not since what?” I asked gently. My head was against his chest, and I could hear his heart beating slow and steady. I ran my palm over the taut muscles of his chest, marveling at how fit his body was, how strong.
    “Adriana,” he said, and he turned and pulled me toward him so that we were both on our sides facing each other. The room was dark, and he was bathed in shadow, but the light that faded into the room from the hallway hit his face softly, causing the blue in his eyes to blaze like a light at the end of a tunnel. “What happened this morning, with Rose. That wasn’t your fault. I was an asshole.”
    “You were,” I said, not even bothering to try to pretend it was okay. “You made me feel horrible.”
    “I know,” he said. “You were an angel to bring her there, to take care of her the way you