24
A long lick and he settles between my legs, tongue working its magic again. Holy hell. Seriously? More cunnilingus? I’m not sure I can stand any more. My clit is so freaking sensitive now. Oh God, but it feels so good. I writhe on the bed beneath Caleb, his mustache and beard rubbing my skin raw as his tongue does wicked things to my lady parts. Heat reignites in my core, pours through my body. I pinch my own nipples-something I’ve never done before-and arch on the bed, wanton sounds spilling from my lips.
“Baby, you sound so good when I get you purring,” Caleb rumbles.
I reach for his head and push my dripping pussy into his face, needing even more. He chuckles and pulls away, and I nearly weep for the loss of him. He catches my wrists, pinning them in one of his large palms. “Doctor, you are so far from running this show.”
My brain scrambles, trying to decipher his meaning. I lick my lips. “So y-you’re one of those guys who has to be in charge?” The warble in my voice nullifies any challenge I meant to infuse in my words.
His smile is wicked. Knowing. He climbs up a bit and pins my wrists above my head. “Interlace your fingers, Doctor.”
I freaking love that he calls me Doctor. “Wh-why?”
He rolls my nipple between his finger and thumb. I feel it between my legs. “You wanna see what else I can do?”
Yep, he pretty much has me as his slave now. I’d do anything to find out what else he can do. Even if it’s totally demeaning.
I stare up at him. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life, and yet I also feel perfectly safe. Protected, even. I nod and slowly twine my fingers together.
“Now you keep those hands on your head, Doctor. If they come off, you’re going to get another spanking.” The wicked twist of his lips is so sexy.
Caleb, you kinky bastard! He’s like a different man-all traces of grumpiness gone, replaced by dark seduction.
He tangles his fingers over mine on top of my head and nudges my face to the side to expose my neck. He drags his open mouth down the column of my neck to my shoulder, where he gently bites me. Then his tongue makes a reappearance, dragging along my collarbone to the hollow of my throat, then between my breasts.
I rock my hips against nothing, growing desperate for more. For a release. For all of it. He grazes my right nipple with his teeth and I jerk, but he immediately laves away the sting with his tongue.
My body trembles, eager for more, desperate to know what comes next. He takes his time, moving to the next nipple, sucking, kissing, nipping.
I want to reach for him-not with any conscious plan-just to participate, to connect, but I remember in time not to untangle my fingers.
“Caleb, I can’t stand it,” I sob. “Please.”
He sits back on his heels and strums my clit idly with his thumb. “What’s the matter, Doctor? You need to come again?”
I nod quickly. “Yes.” I look down at the bulge in his jeans. “Are you going to, um…”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
He gives his cock a squeeze through his jeans, but he shakes his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”
I can’t describe the sense of desperation that rips through me. “What?”
Oh.
I appreciate his honesty and concern.
I lick my lips again-damn, I have to break that habit. “Well, I’m on the pill. Just to regulate my periods. So, um, if you wanted to… I mean, I’m clean. Are you clean?”
His eyes glow. I mean, I swear, they actually glow. Like a cat’s eyes at night.
“I’m clean.” His voice is rough and gravelly. “You sure? I mean, you missed your pill today.”
“I’ll take two tomorrow. It will be all right.” This is totally a first. Me being the one to beg for sex. Trying to convince my partner instead of the other way around.
Caleb locks his gaze on mine as he squeezes his cock through his jeans. His body is lean and powerful. A beautiful mass of inked muscle.
A shiver of excitement goes through me.
This is happening.
With Caleb, the extremely hot, soon-to-be-naked ripped mountain man.
“Roll over.”
“What?” I arch my brows in surprise.
“You heard me. I want to fuck you from behind. You can let go of your fingers now.”
“I want to watch you undress first,” I say stubbornly.
He gives me a crooked smile. “Are we bargaining? I thought I was in charge, here.”
“You thought being the operative words,” I throw back at him. But then I lose all focus on conversation because I realize his jeans are open, the front of his boxers straining to conceal what I’m so desperate to see.
Oh holy hell. It’s as big as I suspected! Huge, really. He shucks the jeans and boxers.
A little thread of fear twists in me. “I’m not sure that’s going to fit.” My voice sounds small.
“Oh it’ll fit. And you’ll like it. Now roll over.”
Ooh. That bossy thing really does something to me. Makes my core turn molten, heat pour down my inner thighs. It makes my toes curl. I roll to my belly, and turn to look over my shoulder to watch him. I don’t want to miss a single second of this.
He smiles. “Good girl.” He climbs onto the bed. “Open for me.”
I can only assume he means my legs, so I part my thighs, spreading my ankles wide on the bed.
“Mmm,” he growls. “Beautiful. That’s fucking beautiful.”
I do feel beautiful. I feel sexy and desirable. Three things I never, ever feel. My big breasts may get ogled a lot, but all it usually inspires is shame in me. Frustration or anger on a stronger day.
No, right now I’m receiving his praise in a whole new way. Believing it. Reveling in it.
He kneels between my legs and nudges them even wider with his knees. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
He keeps saying it. Beautiful.
“I feel beautiful right now,” I say in no more than a whisper.