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CALLISTA
Weston’s massive body colliding with mine shoves me against the tree. Rough bark bites into my cheek as his cock spreads me wide, filling me so completely that it erases all my worries about what’s coming.
It’s impossible to think about the past or the future when the present is so damn all-consuming.
And that’s what Weston does.
I release a groan, struggling to adjust to the sudden invasion and the overwhelming feeling of being complete for the first time in my life.
Good God…
This is it.
What I’ve been missing.
What I’ve been searching for.
What only he can ever give me.
He feathers his lips over the corner of mine, and he tilts my head back so he can kiss me—a deep, demanding, full-mouthed, devastating act that makes me contract around him, feverishly trying to keep him inside.
With a satisfied groan, he drags his hips back, then slams into me, rocking me forward violently. Gasping, I drop my temple to the only thing keeping me on my feet and try to grip it with shaking hands in a frantic attempt to cling to anything to get the stability I need before he drives forward again.
The head of his cock hitches inside me on his retreat, and my legs buckle on a shockwave of ecstasy. He growls low and slides his hand around my stomach to hold me steady, never breaking his rhythm.
And he won’t.
He will offer no quarter.
Give me no reprieve.
Thrust after unforgiving thrust, he plunges into me, tightening his hold, other hand braced against the trunk above my head.
Rain continues to fall around us, and the sounds of it hitting the leaves in the canopy above create an almost calming melody juxtaposed with the harsh, fast, rough pace Weston has set.
I manage to open my eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of him—wild, black gaze locked on me, jaw clenched, neck muscles straining. But it isn’t from him trying to restrain anything. It’s more like he’s caught in a frenzy to get deeper, as if he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.
So many things have plagued this man.
So many ghosts have haunted him.
But this is his chance to unleash them.
And out here, with him taking me from behind, pinning me to the goddamn tree, surrounded by nothing but hundreds of miles of wilderness and the storm raging above us, it all feels so much more real.
Necessary.
Primal.
Fundamental to our survival.
And it just might be for Weston, for The Beast.
For who he was and what he wants to be.
Tears fill my eyes, and I squeeze them closed, trying to stop myself from crying, but Weston pulls his hips back and slams into me again, this time hard enough that I feel it all the way to my soul.
It’s like he’s cementing himself inside me, drilling home the fact that I belong to him, carving it into me so deeply that I’ll never be able to forget it.
