“Ugh,” I whimper. “Feels so good. Don’t stop.”
As I thrust forward and back, impaling myself on Caleb’s fingers, I’m drowning in fulfilment. I do deserve this. I deserve to feel wanted. I deserve to let go.
He wraps his arm around the front of my shoulders, locking me in place as my breathing becomes erratic. My eyes roll back as my orgasm tears through my body, leaving nothing but bones in its wake.
“Oh, fuck,” Caleb moans as I explode across his bed and thrust back on his hand rapidly. “That’s it, fuck my fingers. Show me who deserves this.”
I cry out his name, over and over, until my throat becomes hoarse.
I’m still shuddering from my climax as he slides his fingers from me and leaves a kiss against the base of my neck.
“Holy—” I gasp, trying to come back down to Earth. “I made a mess.”
“Good,” he grunts in my ear before biting down on my lobe.
“Good?”
I twist my head over my shoulder to look at him. He studies my flushed cheeks and smiles smugly. “Yeah, I like knowing I can make a mess of you.”
Internally, I’m screaming at his confident words.
“Are you okay?” he whispers as he leans down to kiss me.
“Yeah,” I say as I catch my breath. “T-that was so hot.”
“You deserve so much.” He kisses my hairline. “And I’m going to make you believe it.”
“I’ve never felt anything that intense,” I confess.
Caleb nuzzles my face, my curls brushing his cheeks. “Edging, baby. It makes you fucking crazy. Did you enjoy it?”
“A lot.” I blush.
He smiles as he pulls back an inch. “Good. Come on, let’s shower,” he says before beckoning his head to the bathroom. “I wanna look after you.”
Before I can protest, he has me up in his arms and walks me towards his en-suite. Water crashes around us, and he lathers my body with soap until I’m floating through space and time, wondering how the hell I ended up with this amazing man.
37
EVAN
Today is my third session with Gemma, our head pack doctor.
The first two sessions didn’t consist much of talking. I mostly just sat there and let her fill in the silent parts because I was too scared to open my mouth and spill my guts.
It seems logical to start at the beginning, but even that seems daunting.
“Hi, Evan,” Gemma says brightly as she opens the door to her office. “Come in.” I flash her a quick smile before walking towards the set of sofas I usually find myself on. “How are you today?”
“Scared,” I confess.
“There’s nothing to be scared about. We’re going to have a conversation about whatever you want. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She motions to the notebook glued to my hands. “What did you bring in today?”
I allow my thumb to roll over the plastic cover. “Uh…just my thoughts.”
