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mellifluoushood · 4 years

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Today, I Saw The Whole World, And It Was Right In Front Of Me - C.H.

Inspired by @ammwritings custom moodboard

A/N: So, I was inspired by Anne’s moodboard that she made for me about getting stoned with Calum and listening to records, so I thought I would write a fic about it. As always, let me know what you think and send requests if you have any! I’ll be finishing ships tonight. xx Genre: angst / fluff / smut Type: blurb / imagine / series Warning: heavy mentions of drug use (smoking weed), some sexual content (not sex, but very close) Word Count: 6k (I got so unbelievably carried away. I wish I could say I was sorry. But I’m not.) Taglist: @gigglyirwin @loveroflrh @ammwritings @calumscalm Playlist: Weed Music

Red eyes watch as she throws her head back, laughing at some meaningless joke thrown around the room. Her laugh echoes with others, bouncing off the painted white walls surrounding them. Her head swims back around when someone elbows her gently and hands her the joint. She smiles, bringing it to her lips and inhaling hard. She feels the toke sit in her mouth before filling her lungs with another breath. She holds it, gently opening her mouth and allowing the smoke to spill out of her mouth. She sits, shivering slightly, focusing on the joint and sparing a glance around the room.

Her friends sit, smiling amongst their newly formed conversations. She watches languidly, lazily repeating her motions a few more times before passing it to the person on her right. She feels her body begin to melt into the sofa underneath her, slowly relaxing. She can feel the way her muscles welcome the plush couch, the black, soft fabric brushing against her bare thighs and warming up her body even farther. Her mind eases into its far corner, letting the high slowly crawl its way into her system.

She hears the end of a conversation before starting a new one with Crystal, sitting to her left. She smiles and asks about her day, listening to the accent drip around her slowly. She watches as her friend talks with her hands, her thick American accent capturing her attention. She listens to the pronunciations and lilts in her tone. She sits and listens and listens.

The anxiety that had made a home in her shoulders slowly rests, her neck tilting to the right and letting out a satisfying crack. She repeats thoughtlessly with the other side, feeling the way that her body is responding to her high. Her toes begin to tingle lightly whilst the warmth bubbling in her chest spreads through her bloodstream, occupying the tips of her fingers and her lower tummy. She still concentrates on her friend, responding only when needed.

She hears the start of a song, another one of her friends, Ashton, connecting his phone to her Bluetooth speaker that had fallen silent a few moments before, letting the song play out. Her focus turns to the music when her friend receives another joint and stops talking. She can feel her head tilting back against the cushion behind her head, resting as her blood pumps at its own pace. She soaks it in.

Her eyes switch between the people in front of her, observing mannerisms in the way they sit and express themselves that she was always aware of when sober, but particularly aware of as she sits high.

“You okay over there?” Ashton asks her and she chuckles at his question.

“I’m fine,” her voice is smooth, low and raspy from the smoke that had been brushing her airways a few moments before then. The friend on her left passes her the joint and she smiles at her with thanks, “Do you guys know how much I smoke?”

Ashton shakes his head and she looks over at Calum, “Have you not told them?”

“No,” Calum shrugs from her right side, “Didn’t want to air your dirty laundry.”

“Dirty laundry, my arse,” she chuckles again. Her motions are languid as she brings the roach to her mouth, over and over, sucking down the smoke with ease, “I’m not ashamed. I mean, c’mon, I wear marijuana socks and post pictures and videos to my private story.”

“Guess we’re not on your private story then,” Michael jokes and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see what a pothead I am,” she comments before passing her joint to Calum. She slowly stands up from her spot on the couch, stretching slightly, her long sleeve shirt riding up, exposing her belly button piercing and tattoo on her left hip. She leisures over to her purse sitting on the dining room table in the other room, rustling through to find her bag, tobacco, grinder and papers. She returns to her spot on the couch, opening her bag and lifting it to her nose. She inhales, noting the strong hints of pineapple and she smiles,

“God, I love my dealer,” she shakes her head, taking another puff before picking out a few nuggets and placing them in the grinder. The boys and their girlfriends watch with intrigue, surprised at her mannerisms.

“I feel like I’m really getting to know you right now,” Ashton mutters, looking at a girl he didn’t expect to be such an avid smoker, rolling a joint like a professional. She looks up at him and shakes her head with a small smile, grinding the weed down to small pieces. She puts the grinder on the living room table before taking a paper out of its packet and a piece of cardboard from the same packet, rolling the cardboard to form a roach. She places it in the paper on the far left side. She opens the pack of tobacco sitting in her lap and begins to sprinkle strands along the paper.

“You use tobacco?” Luke asks.

“Yeah. It helps it burn better and slower. It also makes the high go straight to your brain. You Americans don’t know how to smoke,” she chuckles, “Blunts without tobacco or a roach. A disgrace,” she criticises and Ashton’s eyebrows raise, realising that she’s much more experienced than any of them would have guessed. Calum sits to her right, watching her hands move for the grinder and fill the paper with the weed. She sprinkles a fair amount before beginning to smooth it down by rubbing the ends of the paper together. He watches as she tucks the edge into the joint, rolling the paper over itself until it formed a cylindrical cone. He swallows slightly, the own high seeping through every centimetre of his brain when her tongue pokes past her lips licking the adhesive of the paper and secures the glue against the joint. She smooths it out, running her fingers up and down, making Calum look away before a tent formed in his sweats at the thought of her fingers elsewhere.

She taps the bottom of the joint against the hardwood surface of the table before taking the base of a pen and packing the weed firmly. She sticks the joint in her mouth and lights it up when she’s finished. She sparks the paper and it burns quickly, the emptiness allowing the flame to consume it before it hits the packed weed and tobacco. She inhales then, taking three tokes straight off the bat. She lets the smoke linger out of her mouth before she sucks it in through her nose, exhaling again after.

“Also, you don’t puff-puff pass. You take your time, you enjoy yourself. You end up with the same amount of weed in your system, but you’re not in a rush and you enjoy smoking,” she comments, smiling around the roach in her mouth, pinching the spliff in between her thumb and forefinger. She takes a strong toke, letting it sit her lungs for a few moments, taking the joint from her lips and admiring her handiwork, “God, this is some good green. Pineapple express. It tastes so good,” she brings the joint back to her lips.

“How often do you smoke?” Luke asks the question on everyone’s mind. She thinks to herself, sitting back against the couch again after grabbing the ashtray off the table and resting it on her knees that she’s resting against her chest.

“I smoke every day. I have at least one joint... bare minimum. But, usually, I smoke about 2 or 3... if I meet up with my other group of friends,” she inhales again, “I can smoke upwards of 5 or 6.”

“Jesus Christ,” Michael mutters as she takes her last toke and hands it over to Calum.

“Don’t rush, enjoy it. Feel the music, feel the buzz,” she comments. Calum takes her advice, reclining just like she was and balances the joint in between his forefinger and middle finger like a cigarette. He inhales, admiring the taste of the green she had gotten from her dealer. He exhales, tasting the fruity, light aftertaste that lingers along his tongue and on his inner cheeks. He likes the heaviness of tobacco in the joint.

He throws his free arm around the girl to his left, pulling her to him. She rolls her eyes playfully, the high staining the whites of her eyes a deep red, her irises glassy. Calum’s own reflect similarly. When he looks down at her, she notices he’s a bit more stoned than her, his tolerance not quite as high. His pupils have dilated slightly and his body feels especially warm. She tucks her shoulder underneath his and leans her head on his chest. The people around the circle watch with a knowing smile at their affections. Not quite a couple, but not quite just good friends.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” Calum asks, exhaling the second toke he had taken. She shrugs,

“My dealer usually has a couple of different strains to choose from. If I bat my eyelashes at him, he usually will give me the best of the three and for less than what he charges other people.” Calum chuckles at her antics, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy that bubbles in the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t want to picture the girl cuddled up to his chest fluttering her eyelashes at another man, a coy smile playing on her lips as she charms her way into good quality weed. He reasons with himself that he’d probably do the same if he was a girl.

“How often do you pick up?” Luke asks, watching Calum take his slow drags before passing it to him. Luke nods in gratitude before taking a drag himself and rolls the smoke around in his mouth before inhaling further and holding it. He exhales out of his nose, jutting out his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows, looking at the joint in his fingers, “This is some good shit.”

“Right?” She chuckles before paying attention to the question he had asked before, “Once or twice a week. Depends who I’m with that week and how much I charm him when I pick up.” Her eyes are hazy, looking around the circle at the boys and their girlfriends. Sierra’s legs are resting over Luke’s lap as she sits in between him and Ashton, Ashton’s back is pressed against the television stand and Michael and Crystal are cuddled up to his left. She notes Ashton didn’t bring his girl around and she makes a mental note to ask him about it later. He doesn’t seem to mind the couples around him, as the conversations tend to be open to everyone.

The joint gets passed around to everyone, reaching the owner. She takes another few drags before putting it out and rolling another one with the green left in the grinder. Conversations around her have bubbled up, gently humming over the distant lull of music in the background. She feels how relaxed the muscles in her cheeks are and the heaviness of her eyelids, but she basks in the relaxation and sensation the THC gives her.

Calum watches every single move she makes with hazy eyes and a small smirk on his face. His arm rests on the back of the sofa as he reclines into the cushions, spreading his legs covered in grey sweatpants. He kicks his feet up onto the living room table, his black socks matching the black tabletop. He pulls his hood up, over his platinum blond hair, the black hoodie blending in with the black cushions of the sofa. His eyes linger along the smooth skin of her bare arms, her breasts peeking out from the top of her tank top. Her legs are covered at the very top with shorts, black with white lining. Her socks have marijuana leaves on them as the hems tickle her upper calves. She looks relaxed. Her hair is down, cascading along her back and over her left shoulder.

He wants to push the admiration out of his mind, afraid of the rejection he was sure he would receive. He had heard her complain about a boy earlier to Sierra when she and Luke had arrived. He had peered around the corner of the kitchen entryway, her elbow against the kitchen counter and her face buried in her palm as she complained at his mixed signals and inability to not flirt with her, even after being rejected. He remembers the words she ended the conversation with: If only he would actually do something. He assumes there was a second guy involved, as she had explained to Sierra that she didn’t want to be with the mixed-signals guy. Sierra just chuckled and ran her hands through her hair to comfort her, who just sighed, I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon. He watched as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head, As fucking if. He remembers the feeling of his chest burning at her admission of having her eyes on a guy that wasn’t him. But, he pushed it away, focusing on the fact her right thigh was pressed tightly against his left.

When she finishes rolling her joint, she returns to her spot underneath Calum’s arm, relaxing against the couch and sparking the other joint. She bobs her head to the music in the background, closing her eyes and inhaling again and again and again. He’s addicted to watching her. He doesn’t try and hide the fact that he’s admiring every piece of her and every way she moves. When he looks away, he makes eye contact with Sierra, who had been watching the scene in front of her. Sierra sends him a nod, encouraging him. He shakes his head before turning his attention back to the woman underneath his arm.

Crystal and Michael strike up a conversation with Ashton when he sees Sierra lean over to whisper in Luke’s ear out of the corner of his eye. She says something to him and nods over to her. Luke’s eyes seem to make a connection with what she was talking about before he stands up and grabs his girlfriend’s hand,

“I think Sierra and I are gonna head up to bed,” he motions to the stairs that lead up to the guest rooms upstairs.

“Alright,” she smiles, “Night, babes,” she calls Sierra, her nickname for Sierra and her only. Sierra manoeuvres around the table to hug the girl on the couch. When Sierra leans down for a hug, admiring the blissed expression on her friend’s face, Calum watches as her lips move against her ear, unable to hear what she was saying to the woman under his arm. Calum turns his attention to Luke, who has a smirk resting on his lips as he quirks his eyebrows at him. Luke’s eyes are hazy, blurred with glassiness from the several joints passed around by numerous people. Calum slowly rolls his eyes and turns back to look at the woman next to him. Her attention is already on him as she hands him the second joint she had rolled, her own eyes complete glazed over as she looks at him. He smiles down at her, shaking his head and blowing air out of his nose as his way of laughing.

He listens as Sierra and Luke’s feet pad up the stairs and into the guest room they frequently stay in. Crystal follows Sierra’s actions from earlier, whispering something to both Ashton and Michael who don’t even question her. They repeat Luke and Sierra’s motions, sending Calum a look suggesting that he really should just make a fucking move. He has to resist the temptation of audibly telling them to ‘fuck off’, but he knows it would attract unnecessary attention from the girl next to him.

Once they’re alone after the last three have said their goodnights, Calum passes the joint back to the woman next to him. She hasn’t moved from her spot underneath his arm and he enjoys her proximity. He can smell the weed on her lips and the mix of her lavender shampoo. Her skin is tinted with a woodsy, pine smile, a musky perfume lingering on her pulse points as she rests her head even more on his chest. He smiles to himself, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and listening to the music on the speaker before Ashton cuts it off.

“Ah, fuck,” she mutters, sitting up, removing the warmth of her skin from his. Part of her is relieved she’s no longer touching Calum, but she feels the way his thigh burns against hers. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out her chest, the small tingles he shoots up her spine sending her chest into an electric shock. She bites at her lip, her eyesight slightly blurry as she fumbles for her phone on the table. She switches on her own, smooth playlist and leaves the volume low enough that they can talk, but loud enough for it to not be awkward if they don’t.

She leans back again, not as close to Calum, afraid her heart might burst at the same proximity again, but Calum doesn’t seem to appreciate it. He pulls her to him again, murmuring, “Trying to run away from me, honey?”

Her breath wants to hitch, but she doesn’t let it. She simply rolls her neck from side to side, letting out a satisfying crack and settling into his frame. She inhales from her joint, just so she can exhale the nerves crawling up her neck and into her dry mouth, “No, just trying to be comfortable,” she hums. He can hear the teasing in her voice and he bites the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself in check because he’s not sure he can handle not saying anything or the rejection he’s positive will come after.

“Oh, am I not comfortable?” He teases in return and she turns her head up to look at him. Her lips are parted as she takes drag after drag from her joint, absentmindedly letting the smoke spill from the gap. He watches the trail of smoke fall from her cheeks and the way her eyes scan his face. She mentally memorises the place of his three birthmarks on his cheeks. She traces the five o’clock shadow along his jaw with her eyes and admires the slope of his nose. She notices the way his skin glows in the low light of the living room lamp. His platinum hair peeks out from underneath the hood of his jumper and her eyes trail down to his neck.

“You’re too comfortable,” she admits breathlessly, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. She quickly takes another drag off her joint, trying to cover up the tone of her voice. Calum doesn’t miss it, but he wonders if he imagines it when she passes the joint to him to finish. He takes it from her,

“Thank you, gorgeous.” He swallows once he finishes his sentence, bringing the joint to his lips, annoyed his filter failed him. He knows his guard falls when he’s stoned, but he didn’t expect it to fall around her. He hopes silently she won’t bring it up. But, he wasn’t that lucky,

“Gorgeous, huh?” She chuckles, looking up at him. He looks down at her, the plumpness of her cheeks and the glaze in her eyes. He traces the slope of her nose and curvature of her lips thoughtlessly, his pupils dilating at what they’re admiring. The weed lowers his inhibitions and he decides to just bite the bullet. If it goes badly, he can blame it on the green.

“You heard me,” he raises his eyebrows.

“I did?” She smiles lazily, sitting up a bit, turning to look at him. She’s scanning his body language, a languid movement of her eyes to see if she’s reading him right. If he wants what she wants. If he wants to pull her into his lap and have his way with her. He nods, taking the few last tokes in one go before leaning forward and putting the joint out in the ashtray. He surprises himself by grabbing the curves of her hips and pulling her into his lap. She rests her ass against his thighs, hers capturing his sides in between them. She bites at her lip and quirks her eyebrows,

“Whatcha doing there?” She teases, moving her hands up his chest and to the back of his neck, using the back of her hands to push the hood off his head. She exposes his platinum, glistening blond hair to the glow of the living room lamp. Her eyes admire the sides of his hair growing out, his roots a deep brown colour, contrasting against the bleached tips.

“Getting a better look,” he says thoughtlessly. Any inhibitions he had disappeared, the weed burying them deep in a part of his brain he can’t access in his high. He’s admiring the way she fits against his body. He runs his hands up and down the dip of her waist and the plumpness of her thighs.

“Didn’t think it was as good as a view as mine,” she responds, leaning forward slightly. Her hands began to brush along the back of his neck, her bare skin against his making Calum shiver.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “Today, I saw the whole world. And it was right in front of me.”

She bites at her bottom lip to keep from her smile widening, but he watches as the corner of her lips. It causes Calum’s lips to quirk into a smile as well. Her eyes are stained red, just like his. She uses the tip of her fingers to run up and down his spine before he sits up a little more. His hands find themselves resting on her upper thighs, his fingertips digging just slightly into the flesh.

She has no response and he knows she wants him to make the first move. He removes one hand from her thighs, using it to brush her hair behind her ear,

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, licking his bottom lip and looking down at her lips. She repeats his actions before he hears a small, breathless, ‘Yes’ escape her lips. He leans forward, his lips just brushing hers, barely pressed. She pushes hers against him, harder. His lips are hot against hers and her mouth tastes like weed and tobacco to him. There’s an underlying sweetness to her skin and he loves it. He uses his hand to grip the side of her face, pulling her even closer to him. He runs the hand on her thigh up to her lower back, pushing her even further into his chest.

Their lips pull apart for a moment before slotting against each other again, her hands running from his neck to his hair, threading their way through his strands. Her heart is pounding out of her chest and her limbs feel like they’re vibrating. Calum’s heart is soaring as high as he is, his hands desperate to hold her as close to him as possible, not willing to ever let her go. She leans further into him, pressing her lips against his over and over, her movements becoming more forceful as he exhales every piece of his consciousness into her. Her chest burns with happiness and Calum’s lips can’t help but smile against hers.

With their heads swimming, they press closer and closer, lips slotting over and over, Calum’s grip on her never letting up. He’s the first to lick his tongue along her bottom lip. She parts them, welcoming the heat of his tongue into her mouth. She presses her tongue along his, their lips meeting time and time again. Their breathing starts to become laboured, desperate for the air the other is releasing, their bodies pressed together. They feel so warm against the other, their feelings bubbling to the surface at finally having their release of emotion.

Her hands move from his hair to the bottom of his jumper, tugging at the hem. His hands move to hold hers for a moment before breaking apart, just a second, to tug the jumper over his head and throw it onto the couch next to them. They’re panting and she grabs his face in between her hands, desperate to have her lips touch his again. They slot their lips over and over, tongues lingering within each kiss, familiarising with the taste of the other. Calum uses his hands to run up the soft skin of her stomach underneath her shirt. She shivers at the gentleness of his touch, memorising the way her ribs heave with each desperate breath she takes against her lips. He grabs at the hem of her shirt, tugging the way she had. She breaks apart from him, allowing him to pull the tank top over her shoulders. When the shirt is discarded, Calum leans back slightly, admiring the way her breasts are pushed up by her royal blue bra.

His lips meet hers, once, and then twice, before moving down to her jaw, running his lips along the bone. She tilts her head back, feeling the way his hands have imprinted themselves into her lower back, her hair tickling the back of his hands. His large hands take up so much surface on her back, feeling his warm skin against hers. Her hands grip at Calum’s neck, her nails dig into his shoulders as his lips move lower and lower, along the expanse of her goosebump ridden neck. She sighs, his plush, swollen lips leaving small wet, open-mouthed kisses. She rolls her lips between her teeth, moving her head to the side, her red eyes opening to look at the man who’s gently kissing down her neck.

“Cal,” she sighs and she feels the way his lips curl up into a cheshire grin. At the base of her throat, he wraps his lips around her skin, gently pulling and sucking, licking over the area. She rolls her hips against his without thinking and a deep groan rumbles underneath his chest. She rolls her hips again, satisfying the burning erupting between her legs as she feels how firm he is. He groans again, sucking harder against her neck and her throat rasps out a whimper. Every single movement is heightened, intensified as her high lingers in her veins, alighting her nerves, allowing Calum’s touch to cause explosions in her blood.

His hands run up from their space along her back, over her ribs and to cup her breasts through her bra. She lets out a small moan as he gently applies pressure, testing just how far she wants him to go. After suckling against her neck, he removes his lips, moves them a little higher along her neck and suckling, nipping and licking again. He wants to see the way the blood raises to the surface, bruising and marking up her pretty neck. He’s never seen that before and god, he thinks she’ll look beautiful with his marks all over her. Calum’s heart and stomach flutter at her touch, her fingertips pressing into him, the way that her body responds to his touches. He’s doing this to her. He’s pleasing her.

“Oh,” she moans quietly when he suckles particularly hardly and Calum applies more pressure to her chest. His hands move from the cups of her bra to just underneath the band of it, to ask if he can.

“Please take it off, Calum,” she asks breathlessly. He complies, hands wandering to her back to unclasp the bra. The straps loosen on her shoulders and shrugs it off. Calum removes his lips from her neck and leans back, staring at the perkiness of her breasts. He runs his hands along the underside, watching the way they move with the movement of his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, admiring their shape. Her nipples are hard, poking against his palms as he runs the full expanse of his hand over her breasts. She takes his distraction as a chance to plant her lips to his neck. He sighs through his nose as she traces her tongue, gently, from the base of his neck to the space where his jaw and neck meet. She traces his pulse point with the tip of her tongue before sinking her teeth gently into the flesh. A groan rumbles from between his lips and he can’t help but knead the tender flesh with his hands, trying to focus on the way her body reacts to his touch. She suckles along his pulse point, feeling the way his body radiates heat against her face. She leaves mark after mark, scattering them along the expanse of her neck as Calum leans back and lets her have her way with him.

When she pulls away, their chests are heaving, bare and glowing in the light of the living room. The music in the background switches and Calum’s lips find hers again. Their lips are tender, swollen and red with friction, slotting over and over again. Calum uses his hands to press her to him as close as possible, their bare chests touching. Her hands wander along his shoulders, up to his neck and his hair, down again and repeating her motions, slowly as their tongues brush again and again.

Their highs are pushed to the back of their minds as they bask in the feeling of their kisses, their touches, their movements. She rolls her hips against his again, his cock straining against his grey sweatpants. The firmness sends tingles up her spine as she rolls her hips over and over again. Calum’s hands move from her back and to her lips, guiding her against him as his eyebrows furrow together. Warmth spreads in his stomach at the friction and she breaks away from him, letting out sigh after sigh with each roll of her hips against him.

“Cal-” she whines quietly, pressing her forehead against his, bare chest heaving with each laboured breath, her eyes pressed shut. He watches her with butterflies in his stomach, violently fluttering and fanning the flames in his lower tummy. She looks so beautiful, her eyebrows furrowed as her mouth drops open, feeling the way the friction of their hips moving both satisfying and aggravating the bubbling of lust in her belly. She opens her eyes, meeting Calum’s, who’s focused eyes and parted lips are hung on his face. He looks incredible with his glazed brown irises, plush limps plumped even more, red with blood linger at the surface. She leans forward and captures his bottom lip between her teeth without breaking eye contact and he lets out a small moan.

“I’m going to,” he sighs, guiding her hips faster and harder against his. She encourages him, smiling down with hooded eyes and her lips parted,

“C’mon, baby,” she sighs. Calum’s eyebrows furrow as the heat in his stomach intensifies tenfold, the friction sending sparks and fireworks off in his lower tummy. Her words, her voice, her sighs send him over the edge, his toes curling and throwing his head back. His orgasm is prolonged by the weed in his system, his brain swimming with nothing and everything. His limbs vibrate, tingles rolling up his spine as he releases in his briefs. He’s clutching her hips so hard as she continues to move with purpose. His eyes flutter open, the aftershocks of her movements tweaking every nerve in his body.

Her lips are rolled between her teeth as she bites down. She looks down at him with determination and he starts moving his hands again, guiding her over and over against his still hard cock.

“You going to come for me, doll?” Her eyebrows furrow as she nods, resting her chin against her chest as she feels the beginning of her climax rolling in waves between her legs. He presses a kiss to her lips, gently coaxing the orgasm that was so obviously ready to tip her over the edge, “I know you want to, doll. Cum for me the way I came for you.”

His words make her insides twist and release, dropping her orgasm on her like a bomb, “Oh, shit, Calum.”

Her jaw drops as he gently rocks her against himself, letting her bask in every single electric spark in her nerves like he did. Her shoulders tense and relax, her stomach muscles flexing against his torso as she finishes, her body spasming with each movement of her hips.

She presses her hands to Calum’s chest when she’s finished, feeling his pounding heartbeat under her palm. She looks at him in the eyes, blurry from her high and her orgasm. Adoration is woven in her pupils as they adjust to the light of him in front of her.

“Hi,” he sighs and she lets out a blissed-out giggle.

“Hi,” she repeats, resting her head on his bare shoulder. She curls up against his chest. Calum’s hands find their way up to her back, stroking the skin and rubbing her back as she evens out her breathing. He’s sitting there, in disbelief of what happened, with no complaints at all.

“I enjoyed that,” she mutters, sitting upright again, looking Calum in the eyes.

“I too enjoyed that,” his voice is raspy and he grasps her face in his hands, “I want that again. And again, and again, and again...” he trails off and she smiles down at him.

“How about a date first?”

“Deal.”

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