"Look at me when I fuck you, Izzy."

She shudders, and I feel it—the way her body responds, the way she clenches down around me, like she was made for this.

Made for me.

"Cal—oh my God⁠—"

I grin darkly, pounding into her, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace, dragging her higher, harder, deeper. She gasps, writhing beneath me, her hands everywhere—on my back, in my hair, her nails raking, gripping, claiming.

I feel unhinged.

Like I could lose myself completely inside her.

Like I want to.

I grab her hips, shifting, lifting her just enough to get the perfect angle, and⁠—

"Oh fuck, Cal!"

Her cry is desperate, needy, her body clenching tight around me, her nails scraping down my chest, her entire body trembling. I feel her orgasm build, feel it in how she shakes, in how her breath catches, in how she moans and gasps like she can't handle it.

"That's it, pretty girl." I growl, gripping her tighter, slamming into her, driving her harder.

She whimpers, her legs trembling, her back arching off the mattress.

"Come for me."

She gasps, her whole body locking up, her thighs clenching, her pussy tightening around me as she shatters completely. She screams my name, her hands gripping my arms, her body rocking beneath me, and it's the hottest fucking sight I've ever seen. The way she falls apart, the way she lets go completely, the way she gives herself over to me so perfectly.

Then I can't fucking hold back anymore.

I slam into her one last time, burying myself deep.

"Izzy, fuck⁠—"

Pleasure rips through me, white-hot, blinding, fucking devastating, and I feel it⁠—

The second I lose myself completely inside her.

The second I fill her up, claim her, mark her.

The second she becomes mine forever.

I collapse against her, panting, our bodies damp, tangled, shaking, and she's still trembling beneath me, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her breath uneven. I press my forehead against hers, breathing her in, my heart pounding, my body still throbbing from the aftershocks. She lets out a soft, exhausted giggle, her fingers brushing my hair back, her legs still wrapped around me. Our skin sticks together, slick with sweat.

"Jesus, Cal."

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then to her lips. Her skin tastes faintly salty now.

"Yeah, pretty girl?"

Her head tips back against the pillows, her hair fanning out around her like a dark halo.

"I think you might have actually broken me."

I kiss her again. "Good." I'm still breathless, still buried inside her, my arms wrapped around her like I can't fucking let go.

Because I can't.

I won't.

She runs her fingers through my hair, her touch softer now, her body relaxed beneath me, her breathing evening out. The sheets beneath us are damp with sweat and other evidence of what we've done. And I should just let her drift off, let her sleep, let her bask in this moment.

But I can't.

Because I need her to know.

I need her to hear it.

"I love you, Isabella Russo."

Her fingers still. Her body tenses—just slightly—but then she lifts her head, eyes locking on mine. For a beat, something raw edges into her expression before her lips curl into that familiar, smug little smirk.

“Cal,” she says. “You literally stalked me and you know every messy, embarrassing thing about me. So, you have to know I love you. There’s no other reason I would put up with this.”

My chest tightens, my heart fucking pounds. I kiss her like I never want to stop. Like I want to keep her in this bed forever, wrapped around me, panting, moaning, begging. The taste of her mingles with the taste of my own desperation.

Because she's mine.

My pretty girl.

My entire world.

Just as I'm about to pull her closer, ready to go again⁠—

She snorts.

Loud.

Followed by uncontrollable giggling.

I pull back, raising an eyebrow. Her body shakes with laughter beneath me.

"What?"

She bites her lip, barely holding it together, eyes glinting with mischief.

"The best part of you being Caleb?"

I narrow my eyes. "What?"

She grins, smug as fuck.

"I don't have to spend fifteen bucks a month on that premium membership anymore."

I groan, dropping my forehead against her shoulder.

"Jesus Christ."

She laughs harder, wrapping her arms around me, her body shaking beneath me. The vibration of her laughter travels through both our bodies.

"You love me, stalker."

I press a kiss to her collarbone, my fingers squeezing her waist.

"Yeah, pretty girl. I really fucking do."

NOW CHATTING WITH CALLAHAN

Pretty Girl

today’s the day

Callahan

You nervous, pretty girl?

uhhh duh??? kinda a big deal ya know

I don’t know… feels pretty inevitable to me. Man stalks woman. Man seduces woman. Man makes woman fall in love with him. Man fucks woman so good she agrees to marry him. Classic romance arc.

omg stop this is literally NOT how people describe their wedding day

Tell me you don’t love it.

…. okay fine I love it

That’s my good girl.

I hate you

No, you don’t.

okay no i don’t but that’s beside the point you should be telling me something sweet and sentimental like “oh izzy, my beautiful bride, you have made me the happiest man alive” or something like that

Oh, Izzy, my beautiful bride, you have made me the wettest man alive.

DELETE THIS CHAT RIGHT NOW

Why? I’m just saying you should send me a picture of what I’m missing before you walk down that aisle. For old time’s sake.

cal i am in my wedding dress IN MY WEDDING DRESS

Yeah, and?

AND?!?!?!?

Pretty girl, I’ve made you come while you were on a conference call for work. I think we’re past pretending you have morals.

STOP THAT WAS ONE TIME

One time too many for me to take this whole “innocent bride” act seriously. Now… about that picture.

i hate you

Again. You don’t.

i am literally about to MARRY YOU stop trying to get me naked for five seconds