Calloway // Michael Gray x Reader - Peaky Blinders Fanfic

Chapter 25

Calloway

He envelops me in his arms, deftly rolling us over so I'm lying on my back. The weight of his body presses against me and our forms meld together all over the mattress. As my lips part for him, he delicately brushes his tongue against my own. Every movement is intentional, fervent, wanting.

"You want me to make you mine?" He murmurs, his warm breath mingling with mine.

I trace the outline of his jaw, and air catches in my chest. "Yes."

In this moment, I yearn for him to claim every part of me. I want him all over me, like this. The depths of how I feel about him reached a pinnacle when we woke — his slightly furrowed brow, the vulnerability in his eyes, as he attempted to explain his past. In that moment, an overwhelming urge to hold him and protect him from all pain burst through me.

I want to be his. I don't know if I have it in me to say the words, but I am determined to make him feel loved in the ways that matter. In the way we talk to each other — like this.

And then he worships my body with his hands, running them all over and leaving trails of need, before teasing the strap of my bra and freeing my breasts. They spill out eagerly, inviting his touch. When he dips his head to my chest and toys my nipples with his tongue, it feels so good, so right. He nibbles and sucks at the sensitive flesh, drawing them out while sharp groans leave his mouth. Aching, they stiffen into sharp peaks for him, glistening with his saliva as he lifts his head to watch me glow in the pale moonlight.

Eyes heavy with lust, he slips a hand into my underwear and finds my swollen clit. I gasp, while he hushes me.

"Need to check if you're ready," he murmurs, his fingers gently gliding through my folds.

I tremble beneath him as he trails his fingers up my slit, flicking gently at the apex.

"Oh, that's it," he whispers as small whimpers escape my lips, and he groans like he can't resist much longer.

He withdraws, shifting back on his knees, and removes my underwear down the length of my legs. Leaning forward, I help him take off his shorts, and then I rest my head against his navel. I stay like this for a moment, tenderly kissing the soft patch of skin at the base of his stomach. I want this to feel good for him, too.

His hand caresses my head, and when I'm finished he guides me back down on the mattress. His fingers return to my slit again, and my eyes roll back in my head.

"If it hurts, you tell me." His voice is low, thick with desire. "If you want me to stop, you tell me. Alright?"

I nod, my voice barely a whisper. "Alright."

He positions himself between my legs. My pussy clenches in anticipation. Then, he leans down over me, and he takes my hand in his own. We hold hands, fingers laced together, and his lips meet mine. I taste him as I feel the gentle pressure of his cock head at my entrance. For a moment I panic, wondering how it'll fit.

With a sinful moan, he thrusts his cock into me. There's a sharp sting as he breaks through— I cry out his name, my pussy stretching to accept him, as the pain dies down. It's replaced with a strange ache deep inside me — not at all unpleasant. I clench around him, and light up in pleasure against every part of his length.

He stills, panting, brushing light kisses across my lips in concern. "Are you alright?"

I nod against him. "It-It feels good."

He chuckles softly, and when he gazes into my eyes, his own are so full of adoration. "It gets better."

His hips pull back and he draws almost all the way out of me. I whimper as my core protests, and then he thrusts back into me, burying himself this time. My hips lift to meet his as I cry out. His hand tightens around my own, our fingers interwoven, every part of us joined together.

His cock fills me so good, every thrust intensifying the pleasure building inside me. My back arches for him, my breath shudders for him, as he continues to claim me.

"You feel so good around me, sweetheart," he groans into me. "So good for me."

He fucks into me, over and over again, every thrust a deliberate roll of his hips. His cock stretches me, fills me. It hits a spot deep inside that sends shockwaves through my entire body.

And all the while he's kissing me, watching me, releasing low groans for me. He grips the headboard with his other hand and begins to drive deeper into me, his pace quickening. The bed shakes with each thrust and his cock works me into a frenzy, with everything inside me reaching a summit and beginning to unravel.

"Michael, I'm going to come," I moan, barely able to think as I cry out for him.

"That's it, sweetheart. Lose control for me. There you go, oh, look at you," he says with every intentional thrust. "Making such a pretty little mess on my cock. Fuck yes, Cal."

I'm close to sobbing, my clit pulsating and my core aching as I finish coming, and he pulls out and spills over the base of my stomach. We both gasp softly and pant, trying to catch our breath.

"Was that okay?" I ask him, my voice small.

He laughs quietly, cleaning us up with a tissue. "Should be me asking you, sweetheart."

He lies down beside me and I see flickers of vulnerability in his gaze. He traces my nose, my lips, with his thumb. "Was it?"

I nod, and then I close the distance between us and kiss him again.