“You have me, baby. I’m all yours,” he promises, slamming in.
I throw my head back as far as my position allows. I feel like a cocksleeve, trussed up for him to fuck as long and hard as he wants. And fuck me he does.
Caleb pistons inside me, his hips working, his breathing harsh and loud. He’s careful not to put his weight on me, mindful of my bound limbs, still in control. But it’s control with a razor’s edge as he chases his own orgasm.
Even though I just came, being used like this flicks a switch inside me that’s been dormant until Caleb came into my life and into my bedroom at night. His cock drags against my sensitive inner walls, his pelvis grinding against mine. The movements of his body against mine move me over the sheets, reminding me that my back had been flogged too.
Then there’s the audience. I can only just see a part of the screen, but it’s clear to me that everyone’s attention is on us—even the pair that’s still fucking.
“Caleb, I’m going to—” I start, but cut off on a gasp as he slams against the right spot.
“Yeah? You like being my fucktoy so much you’re going to come again?” he asks loudly. But I don’t have it in me to feel ashamed.
Before I can form another coherent sentence, I’m clenchingaround him again. The room is filled with the sounds of my moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the wet sounds of him tunneling inside me through my release.
“Fuck, you’re so tight when you come,” Caleb says through clenched teeth. “Gonna make me come inside you.”
“Yes,” I encourage breathlessly, my mind feeling dreamy, soft around the edges.
Caleb’s hips stutter against mine, then he grunts as he thrusts once, twice, before stilling inside me on a roar. I can feel his cock throb as he releases, the waves of his orgasm feeling endless—or maybe my perception of time is shot.
I feel like he’s gone between one blink and another, carefully but deftly untying the ropes on my hands and legs. He massages each limb as he releases it, making sure I’m not numb. Another blink and he’s holding me up in a seated position, a bottle of water resting against my lips.
“Small sips, darling,” he says gently.
I melt into his body, my heart beating languorously, my eyes moving slowly. Our audience has thinned out, just a few stragglers remaining as Caleb slowly brings me down from my high.
“Take as much time as you need.” His lips graze against my jaw, his hands gently massaging my scalp. “We have all night.”
EPILOGUE
CALEB
Iwatch as Killian expertly flips a steak, manning his large BBQ like he once manned turrets on armored vehicles.
“I can’t believe you moved out of the city,” Ethan whines for the fifth time today.
“Yeah?” Cross returns, jabbing the BBQ fork in his direction. “Say that again when you’re enjoying the fireworks from my porch tonight.”
Ethan crosses his arms defiantly. I swear half of the time he’s just stirring up shit. “Like renting a place for the Fourth of July is hard?”
Damien throws a kitchen towel at Ethan’s head as he walks past, bringing a glass of lemonade to his now very pregnant woman. Morgan’s tawny skin glows like copper in the sun—or maybe it’s pregnancy hormones or happiness or some shit.
I don’t hear what Killian’s retort is, too busy looking at Basia laughing at whatever dumb thing Barbara just said—she and Ethan are a match made in the punchline of a joke.
Emily’s gazing at Killian like he hung the moon. Hell, maybehe did. I feel like the man’s capable of anything just to please that tiny kindergarten teacher.
Damien returns to my side and clinks his beer bottle against mine.
“It’s odd, isn’t it?” he asks absentmindedly.
“What’s that?”
“We were a family on the battlefield. Now we’re a different kind of family. And it’s thanks to these women.”
I snort to cover up the sudden tightening in my chest. “Yeah. They’re special, alright. To put up with all the baggage we carry.”
“That’s for sure,” Damien agrees, raising his beer in their direction in a salute. Barbara sticks out her tongue, making rock on signs with both hands.
