New York City
April 27
Tox knocked on Calliope’s door and waited. He peered through the sidelight and spotted Coco on her hind legs doing the same back to him. When he didn’t see Calliope, he let himself in with the key she had given him earlier.
“Cal?”
He took five steps into the hall and poked his head into the living room.
Aaaand….he was pretty sure his tongue fell out the side of his mouth like Coco’s.
Calliope was wearing tiny spandex shorts and a blue sports bra. She was standing on one foot, AirPods in her ears, her upper body bent in half and wrapped around her one planted leg. The other leg was extended perfectly vertically toward the ceiling in a standing split. Her face was a picture of calm. When she turned her head and caught his eye, she smiled, released the pose, and came to stand in front of him.
“Hey,” she said. Tox nodded. The cage rattled.
“You okay?” she asked. Tox nodded. The cage shook, the bars bent.
“Did that turn you on?” Another nod. The lock was giving way.
Calliope tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged him forward.
“How much?”
The bear was out.Tox lifted Calliope by her ass and growled low in his throat as he carried her back to the yoga mat. He came down on top of her and grabbed the lycra at her hips, yanking it down her legs and off. He stopped. Gathered himself.
“Yes?” he growled.
“Don’t even think about stopping.”
His huge hands each braced a thigh, and he dove between her legs. Tox explored her with tongue and teeth, reveling in her scent, her taste. His hands slid up and back, squeezing and exploring the firm globes of her behind. When he moved between them, she raised her hips, urging him on. Another growl, a nip, a suck, and she exploded. Without lingering, Tox rolled back to standing, watching Calliope in her daze. She was bare, one leg bent and tipped over the other in an erotic, taunting pose. Tox reached over his shoulder and pulled the Henley over his head by the neck. Then he unzipped and dropped his jeans, standing naked above her.
Calliope gave her head a micro-shake to clear it. Could this body, this work of art, really be standing on her yoga mat? Sure, she had fantasized about this very encounter with this very man, but even her imagination couldn’t possibly have conjured what towered before her. She had fallen for Tox’s sorrowful eyes, his endearing thoughtfulness, his kind heart. She hadn’t fully comprehended that all that sweet was packaged in a physique from Olympus.
Tox’s nostrils flared like a bull as he breathed, his body cut from marble—the broad curve of each thick thigh, the muscular cradle of his hips, his biceps straining even in repose. A smattering of hair covered his chest and distilled into a dark path that led down beneath the ladder of his abdominals to an erection the size of her forearm. He reached down and stroked himself once, then held the base of his cock in a firm grip, marshalling his control.
Tox may have struggled with emotional control, but never physical. He was in charge of his body. He’d once lifted the back end of a Humvee off of Steady; he was not going to blow his load like a sixteen-year-old. He took a calming breath, unable to take his eyes off what lay before him. Blind to everything else he saw her hypnotic eyes. Deaf to everything else, he heard her gentle pants. Unable to speak, in his mind, he called out to her.
Calliope gulped but couldn’t drag her gaze away. His cock jutted out, his testicles hung heavy between those massive thighs. He sank to his knees and came over her, groping behind him for his jeans. He fished a condom out of his wallet, dislodging items in his haste, and sheathed himself.
He positioned himself above her, hands by her head, expression fierce, and nudged her opening. She spread her thighs wide and held her breath.
“You gotta relax, Cal. You can take me.”
Calliope nodded wide-eyed. She inhaled and blew out slowly once, twice, and felt Tox enter her. Mashed potatoes and gravy, he was big. Ten years of yoga and this was a stretch she had never, ever experienced. She relaxed her hips, tilted her pelvis, and welcomed him into her body. He thrust into her and Calliope saw stars. Never in her life had she felt something so powerful, seen someone so potent. He consumed her from within, eclipsed her from without. He withdrew, thrust again. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. She couldn’t imagine feeling more...complete. Then Tox bit out two words that blanked her brain.
“Almost there.”
“What?”
He pushed into her this time to the hilt, forcing the breath from her lungs and the thoughts from her head. She felt every inch of him as her insides melted and contracted.
“You okay?” he asked, concern on his face.
She cupped his face in her palms. “Manda ver, colloso.” Bring it, big man. She didn’t even realize she wasn’t speaking English.
He may not have understood her words, but it seemed he got the message. He urged her to lock her ankles around his lower back. Then he began to move in earnest. He surged into her body. Calliope felt him slide his forearms beneath her and lift her horizontally off the mat. She was levitating as he moved with force and precision. She felt him slowly bend her toward him to meet his chest, hitting every magic trigger on her body in one effortless motion. She erupted, unleashing a string of epithets and religious invocations in at least three different languages. She felt him piston his hips once, twice, three times, surging, pulsing, and finally joining her in euphoria.
She finished her litany with one whispered word. “Miller.”