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“The new angle hits a deep spot, and I fall forward, barely able to contain myself. My lips land on his, cutting him off. I start to kiss him until I've got no more air in my lungs. I direct my hand down low to that spot that's been on fire ever since I straddled Callum. Right now it's begging, pleading for attention. I move my hand softly at first, swirling a slow rhythm until the heat morphs into pressure. Callum's eyes fall to where my hand is. "Yes. Just like that," he growls. Faster and faster I swirl until every blink gives way to blurry vision. Then it comes. Through all the convulsing, all the whimpering, all the panting, one thing is clear: this climax is perfection, and the reason why is because it's with Callum. He holds me up as I thrash against him, refusing to let himself break until I've gotten mine. When I come down, his body tenses, his jaw bulges, and his eyes go hazy. But somehow he's still got me. His muscled arms shroud me like a warm blanket. Under them, I'm safe. Under him, everything is perfect.” — Sarah Smith