“I want it,” I whisper, the words spilling out before pride can stop them.
That’s all he needs.His hands are on me again, dragging the robe completely off, tearing at the lace until it’s nothing but scraps.He rises just long enough to shove his pants down, freeing himself, thick and heavy, flushed with arousal.My breath catches at the sight, anticipation and dread tangling in my stomach.
He grabs my thighs and spreads me wide, settling between them with ruthless intent.“Look at you,” he rasps, dragging the head of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself in me.“Fucking perfect.You’re mine, Eve.”
The first thrust steals the air from my lungs.He pushes in slow, deliberate, stretching me open inch by inch until I’m gasping, nails biting into his back.“Caleb—God?—”
“So tight,” he snarls, bracing his forearm beside my head as his hips press deeper.“Still so fucking tight after everything.”
A broken cry tears from me when he bottoms out, filling me completely, overwhelming.He doesn’t give me time to adjust.He pulls back and slams forward again, harder, faster, setting a pace that has me clinging to him, my pride in tatters with every moan ripped from my throat.
“You can hate me all you want,” he groans, his mouth hot against my neck.“But you love how I fuck you.”
My reply is a sobbed curse, my body arching as he pounds into me, hitting that spot again and again until my vision blurs.His thumb finds my clit, ruthless even as his hips piston, and the pleasure slams into me hard and fast.
“Caleb!”I cry out his name as my climax tears through me, violent, unstoppable, every muscle locking as I convulse around him.
His growl is guttural, primal, his thrusts harder, desperate now as he buries himself deep.“That’s it, Princess.Come on my cock.”
I shatter again, raw and helpless, and it drags him with me.He slams into me one last time, his body stiffening, his groan muffled against my throat as he spills inside me, hot and unrelenting.For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing, the frantic pound of our hearts.He stays pressed against me, buried deep, his mouth on my skin, his breath harsh and uneven.
Finally, he lifts his head, his eyes dark but softened, a dangerous smile curving his lips.“Still think you don’t want this?”
And I can’t answer.Not because I don’t have the words, but because my body has already given him the only answer that matters.
My back screams in protest as consciousness drags me from sleep.Everything hurts—muscles I forgot I had are staging a full rebellion against me.I try to shift position, but something warm and solid pins me in place.
An arm.A very muscular, very male arm wrapped around my waist like a steel band.
I freeze, staring at the ceiling as fragments of last night assault me.Caleb’s hands on my skin.His mouth everywhere.The way he moved us from the couch to my bed like I weighed nothing, then proceeded to?—
“Fuck.”The word slips out before I can stop it.
The arm tightens around me, and I feel his breath against my neck.Warm.Steady.Completely at odds with the chaos in my head.
I remember now.All of it.The way he took control, positioning me exactly how he wanted.The creative ways he found to make me come apart completely.How he whispered filthy things in my ear that made me beg for more.Heat floods my cheeks and other places I’m trying very hard not to think about.
This is bad.This is so, so bad.I need to get out of this bed.Away from him.Away from the way his skin feels against mine and how perfectly I fit against his chest.
Carefully, I try to lift his arm, but it’s like trying to move a tree trunk.When that doesn’t work, I attempt to wiggle out from under it.
Big mistake.
My legs give out the second my feet hit the floor.I crumple in an ungraceful heap, cursing every god I can think of.
“Going somewhere?”His voice is rough with sleep, amused.
I glare up at him from the floor.He’s propped up on one elbow, blonde hair messy, that lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth.The sheet has slipped dangerously low on his hips, revealing the defined lines of his abs.
I force my eyes back to his face.“Yeah.I’m going to get a knife to murder you with.”
He laughs—actually laughs—and reaches down to haul me back onto the bed like I’m a wayward cat.“Come here.”
“Don’t touch me.”But my voice lacks conviction, especially when his hands span my waist, lifting me effortlessly.
“Too late for that, don’t you think?”He pulls me against him, and I hate how good it feels.How right.“It’s not even morning yet.Sleep.”
The warmth of his arms is intoxicating, but I can’t let myself sink into it.“I need to wash up.”
