Calla POV
I understood the rule before he finished saying it.
That was the terrifying part — not the rule itself, but the rawness of how he’d said it. He said Your eyes should be open. On me. The entire time I’m inside you—every thrust, every time I make you come, every second I’m f*****g you slow or hard or deep enough to bruise. If those pretty eyes close—even for a heartbeat—I stop. I pull out. I wait until you’re begging with them again. Something in my chest responded before my brain caught up, like the instruction was meant for me specifically, like he'd reached past the performance and given it directly to whoever was underneath.
I stand in the center of a hotel suite I don't belong in and I look at this man I married four hours ago and I try to remember that I am here for a reas
