Page 86 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“Your ex-boyfriend was an asshole.”

“I mean, maybe I wasn’t as careful as—”

“Knowing you, you stressed about it for three weeks first. So I’m sure you were careful enough. Some people just don’t like hearing the truth. But saying it was a sign of how much you care.”

“Yeah, I mean, it sucks no matter what, but it sucks more when you don’t know what’s wrong with you. At least when you know, there are some tools you can learn that will help you cope.”

“Maybe you can teach me some,” I said, reaching for her hips and pulling her until she was straddling me.

“I’d like that,” she agreed, then let out a little sigh as I leaned in and kissed her neck.

“Later,” I said against her skin.

“Yes, later.”

Her head angled to the side, inviting more. And I was happy to give it to her.

The storage unit had been amazing. Impulsive, overwhelming. But I hadn’t had as much of a chance to explore as I wanted. And I’d needed to keep Caitlin from being too loud.

I wanted a chance to take our time and for her to be as enthusiastic as she wanted to be.

Caitlin’s head tipped to the other side, allowing me to kiss up her neck to her ear, down her jaw, then sealing my lips to hers.

I swallowed her little moan as my hips dragged her higher on my lap, letting her feel the press of my cock against her.

Her lips grew eager as her hands moved to frame my face, but she grumbled when the cast got in her way, resting it on my shoulder instead.

Her hips grew restless, rocking against me as my hands slid down her back, getting to know the slope of her spine, the flare of her hips, the roundness of her ass.

I gathered the material of her shirt, pulling it up, then waiting for her to raise her arms so I could free the tee from her.

A little shiver racked her system as I tossed the shirt to the side. She was left in a yellow bra that matched the panties I’d peeled off of her in the storage unit.

“What’s this from?” I asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to a scar on her shoulder.

“Fell off a bike onto a brick flowerbed border. I still can’t ride a bike. Which sucks now that the electric ones are all over.”

“Because you’re traumatized or—”

“Because I have really bad balance and fall off anytime I try.”

I kissed across her collarbone, then down between her breasts.

Reaching behind her, I unclasped her bra and pulled the material free.

A gasp escaped her when I leaned in and sucked her nipple into my mouth.

She arched backward, her hips rocking harder as I circled with my tongue, sucked, scraped, nipped. Then I moved across her chest to continue.

“Gav…” she whimpered, voice needy as she ground down on my cock.

“Are you going to ride me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she moaned, lifting up so I could slide her panties down. She shifted to free the material as I dug in my pocket for my wallet to fetch a condom.

By the time she reached to free my cock, I had the wrapper open and slid on the protection.

“Come here,” I demanded, holding my cock at the base. “Show me how you want to be fucked.”