When she tensed up at this realization, Caleb pulled his head up and studied her closely, his whole body tight, his desire reined in. “Kelly? Is everything all right?”
It wasn’t all right. After what she’d discovered on his computer yesterday, she shouldn’t want to be close to him like this.
But she did. She did.
She sucked in a breath and tightened her fist into the fabric of his white dress shirt. “Yeah.”
He was breathing so hard he was nearly panting, and the sound of it roused a matching urgency in her own body. He was still holding back, though, studying her face with what looked like concern. “Kelly, something is bothering you.”
She tried to think up a convincing lie, but the words that came out were the truth. “I’m just—this is all new to me. Being with someone like this, more than just a one-time casual thing. It’s new to me.”
In the silence that followed, she felt vulnerable, naked. And suddenly worried that she’d made an amateur mistake, implying a relationship was serious too soon.
But Caleb’s face softened, his expression like a caress. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything but one-time casual sex too. I think we’re in the same boat here.”
She searched his face, not even sure what she was hoping to see there. A small, trembling feeling burst into life when she saw nothing but understanding, passion, sincerity in his expression.
Because he was in this as deeply as she was.
Unable to feel anything she was supposed to, unable to stop herself from wanting so much more of him, she grabbed his face and leaned into a kiss, his jaw rough with stubble beneath her palms.
He responded by tightening his arms around her as the kiss grew deeper.
When his desk chair started to roll, he broke the embrace and helped her off of his lap. “Let’s move this to the couch,” he murmured, standing up and taking her hand to draw her over to the leather couch against the far wall of his office.
He pulled her down beside him, and then slid his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back in the process. “God, you’re so gorgeous.”
She tried to tell herself she didn’t love the sound of the words, the way they made her feel.
He lowered his mouth until his lips glanced across hers briefly, the stimulation light and tantalizing. Kelly sucked in a quick breath and automatically caught his lips again. This time, he pressed his mouth into hers firmly and slid his tongue along the inside of her lower lip.
She opened a little and caressed the back of his neck with her fingertips. His tongue dipped all the way into her mouth at her silent invitation, and then started to stroke along the line of her tongue.
They didn’t usually kiss for this long, but he wasn’t rushing it today. Her body kept responding eagerly, shamelessly, to the stroke of his tongue, the motion of his lips, the way his hands slowly caressed her back. And more than her body was responding.
Finally, Caleb eased her backward until she was sprawled out on the sofa—her legs still hanging over the side—with him propped up over her, trailing kisses along her jaw and the curve of her throat.
Kelly was just starting to get control of herself again, shifting more securely beneath him on the sofa, reaching around his body so she could rub his back through the fabric of his shirt, telling herself this was all for a purpose, when Caleb raised his face again. He looked at her silently for a moment.
Then he started kissing her again.
She moaned into his mouth, in pleasure—and because it was just so wrong.
This time, as he kissed her, he slid his hands under her top, pushing it up until he’d exposed the white lace bra she was wearing.
His lips were brushing against hers, his tongue playing and stroking, slowly and hungrily. He was palming her breasts over her bra, and she arched up into his hands.
Finally, her feelings were so overwhelming that she turned her head to the side, pulling her lips away from his. She gasped and shuddered in the wake of the kiss, and realized that she was clinging to—and hopelessly wrinkling—Caleb’s shirt.
It felt almost like it had been a couple of days ago, when she’d surrendered her control to him, only this time the control wasn’t physical. And it felt so much more dangerous.
He accepted the change of positions and used the opportunity to push her top farther up and over her head. She released him so he could pull it off her arms all the way. He began to nibble his way down her neck, pausing at the pulse in her throat, and then again at the little mole above her right breast.
Kelly lifted up a little, not enough to dislodge his mouth but enough to let her reach behind her back and unhook her bra. Caleb pulled it off for her, the lacy fabric briefly sticking to her hot skin.
She felt dazed and overly warm, and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Caleb’s lips, which had now moved down to her right nipple.
Her nipples had already tightened into stiff peaks, and—as Caleb’s mouth closed over one of them—Kelly felt the corresponding tugs of pleasure build toward an ache of arousal between her legs.
She didn’t fight it. Couldn’t fight it.
It didn’t matter what she’d discovered yesterday. It didn’t matter that he was a murderer, any more than if he’d been a saint. He was Caleb, and she couldn’t help but want him this way.
The only sound in the room was the cadence of their heavy breathing and the soft squeaking as Kelly’s bare skin rubbed up against the leather of the sofa. She felt her ass slipping off the seat, so she used her feet on the floor to stabilize her body, hoping Caleb was more secure in his position than she was in hers.
After suckling her nipple for a minute, Caleb released it, moved his head slightly, and nuzzled in between her breasts in a way that made Kelly gasp in surprise.
Her hands grabbed for his head, holding it in place, and she felt the thick hair under her palms—feeling the texture of each wave with a strangely precise recognition.
She felt his teeth against her—the sudden, sharp sensation causing her to gasp again.
He glanced up, into her face, as if he were checking for the reason she had gasped. She could only imagine how she looked—flushed and breathless with her swollen mouth hanging open—and whatever he saw in her face must have reassured him.
He scooted farther down her body and lowered his face again—this time to the top of her belly.
Her stomach was almost quivering with her erratic breathing, and she arched her back again as his lips traced over the sensitive skin there. As his mouth worked on her abdomen, his hands moved up to her bare breasts again, cupping the soft swells of flesh as if he couldn’t get enough of their weight, their texture.
Kelly arched up yet again, her hips squirming in growing need. But, despite her arousal, she was starting to experience a different kind of nervousness as Caleb’s mouth continued lower until it had reached the waistband of her skirt.
One of his hands stroked down from the breast he had been holding until he’d gripped the waistband and slid it down.
Kelly didn’t mind. She didn’t mind that she was nearly naked while Caleb still had on all his clothes, including his shoes and tie.
But she definitely didn’t like the fact that Caleb’s head was all the way down there.
There were some things she just couldn’t allow.
She couldn’t imagine why Caleb would want to waste his time with that, when he could get what he wanted without all the trouble, so she just waited, assuming he’d reposition himself soon and start fucking.
He’d offered to do her once before, but he didn’t normally seem inclined in that direction, thank God.
She lifted her hips at his urging, letting him push her skirt and panties down, first over her hips, then down to her knees. She still had her shoes on, but she was able to toe them off before Caleb pulled her clothes all the way off.
She was naked now, and Caleb raised his head to stare at her for a moment—that familiar look of awe igniting in his
eyes.
Kelly just looked away from it, and tried to pull herself up on the sofa some more so her ass wouldn’t keep slipping off and so her stomach muscles wouldn’t have to stretch as much.
“You okay?” Caleb asked thickly. His face was tight and unrevealing, but Kelly could sense the coiled energy pulsing beneath his surface, more powerfully than ever now.
“Yeah,” she breathed, wondering why he was asking this so much today. Before he replied, she figured she might as well get comfortable while she had the opportunity. “But can you get up for a minute?” she added, quirking her lips at him wryly. “I’m about to fall off.”
“Oh,” Caleb muttered, pulling off her until he was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Sure.”
She lifted her legs up onto the sofa all the way. It was plenty big enough for her to stretch out on. Her naked skin stuck to it a little, but it was so soft and supple that the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. “Okay.”
He stared down at her again in silence. Not moving. Just looking at her—completely naked and sprawled out on his leather sofa.
He stared so long that she started to get uncomfortable. “Caleb?” she prompted, shifting a little. “Weren’t we in the middle of something?”
“Yes,” he agreed, the word coming out with his breath. He adjusted himself until he was over her again, parting her legs some more to make room for his body.
Kelly was about to reach down to unfasten his pants, but Caleb moved until he was too far down for her to reach. His mouth traced over her belly again. Moved lower.
Reached the thin strip of hair between her legs.
Kelly sucked in her breath and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Caleb,” she rasped.
He looked up at the sound of her voice.
“Caleb,” she murmured huskily. “I’ve waited long enough. I want you inside me.”
His face twisted—with tension and weakening control, she thought. “I was going to—”
She was practically writhing now, both to emphasize her point and to keep his mouth from going somewhere it didn’t belong. “Later,” she urged him. “I want you to fuck me now.”
He didn’t argue. He pulled himself up until his face was on the level of hers. She reached down to the fastening of his pants, working on them until she was able to free his hard cock.
He hissed when she ran her fingers up and down the hard length of him. And then released a hoarse moan when she rubbed little circles over the tip. He gave an involuntary thrust into her hand, tightening his fingers on the top of the sofa, with which he was supporting himself.
“Condom,” he said.
She released him, reaching onto the floor for where she’d dropped her purse. “Here,” she offered. “I have one. It’ll be quicker.”
She pulled one out of the inner pocket and quickly tore open the wrapper, rolling it on for him and not meeting his eyes although she knew he was watching her intently as she worked.
He wanted her. That much was obvious. But anything else going on in his mind was beyond her fathoming.
With the condom in place, Caleb reached in between her thighs. He stroked her open with his fingers until he could feel her warm, intimate flesh.
She was wet, and one of his fingers slid into her easily. Kelly gasped and bucked up a little, reaching behind her head to grab on to the arm of the sofa with one of her hands.
“Caleb,” she whispered, her leg hooking around his body. “Now.”
He pulled his hand out and lowered himself over her, until his face was very close. He used one hand to support some of his weight on the sofa and the other to position his cock at her entrance.
She raised her hips to meet him, and her body adjusted easily as he slid his hard flesh inside her.
He froze momentarily, his face beside hers, his expression hidden, his breaths long and deep, as if he were breathing in her hair, which was spread out on the leather cushion beneath her head.
Kelly lay under him, wishing she could distance herself the way she used to all the time. With Caleb. With all the other nameless men she had fucked.
She couldn’t. Not really. She knew this was Caleb. Knew she hated him. And understood him. And wanted him anyway.
And all of it could exist inside her heart at the same time.
She bent her knees on either side of his hips and wrapped one of her arms around his back—still clinging to the arm of the sofa behind her for stability with the other hand.
They were a little cramped on the sofa, but not too much. Caleb’s forearms were planted beside her shoulders. He thrust into her slowly, sliding out, and then plunging back in with long, pleasurable strokes.
His face was so close to hers that his nose and lips glanced across her skin occasionally. Sometimes like a kiss. Sometimes like a nuzzle. Sometimes just an accidental contact from their motion.
His face was damp and tense, and growing tenser with each one of his thrusts. Soon, the strokes of his cock became shorter and faster. And, instead of the heavy panting, he began to grunt softly in rhythm with their motion.
It felt good, and there was something erotic about the coiled intensity and hot throbbing of his body as he pumped into her. She felt heavy and tense and breathless, but she didn’t feel an orgasm developing yet.
She raised her feet off of the sofa, pulling her knees toward her chest and allowing him to sink in even deeper, the solid substance of his cock stretching her, filling her.
He huffed out a sound of surprise and froze briefly, gasping hotly against the skin of her cheek.
Strangely proud of this evidence of his diminishing control, Kelly wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles to hold them stable.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, his body clenched, his arms shaking a little, his pelvis jerking in tiny, involuntary thrusts inside her.
Something tight was knotting up in her chest at his reactions, and she felt flooded with heat and confusion.
This felt different than the times they’d fucked before, and not just because Caleb seemed to be losing it.
“Caleb,” she breathed, pumping her hips against the weight of his body. “Caleb, please.”
With a muffled groan, he started thrusting again. Beginning slowly but quickly building up to a rapid, jerky rhythm again.
She could feel an orgasm swelling up below her belly, but it was still just the beginnings. The friction of his hard length as it slid slickly within her wet channel sent tingles out from their joining. And the shaking of the sofa, the sound of the leather, and the feel of its rubbing against her bare skin all seemed strangely concrete and visceral—primitive on the most basic level.
Caleb’s motion sped up until he was driving into her fiercely, and the slapping of their skin mingled with their panting and the squeaking of the sofa. But then he stopped, his eyes shut and his head jerked away from her.
“Caleb?” she gasped, her body shaking beneath him, from more things than she could process. She realized that she was digging the fingers of one hand into the sinews of his neck and so she forced herself to relax her grip. Instead, she clung desperately to the arm of the sofa behind her head.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. But he was breathing in heavy rasps, and his body was wet with perspiration under his clothes.
“Caleb,” she said again, this time her voice was an obvious plea. “Caleb, please.”
“Kelly,” he gritted out, his jaw clenched and his eyes almost desperate when he opened them. “Can you”—he paused to breathe—“I don’t know if I—”
Kelly tightened her legs and inner muscles around him in a way that made him groan. He tried to draw his pelvis away, sliding his cock out of her body, but her legs around him restricted his movement.
“Kelly,” he said thickly, his breath, his voice, wafting over the damp skin of her cheek.
She didn’t know why she wasn’t faking orgasm the way she had before. But for some reason she couldn’t seem to manage it now. Couldn’t tense up her body. Couldn’
t release it in shudders and whimpers. She didn’t want to.
It felt like a lie.
“Maybe,” she answered hoarsely. “But it would take too long. I’m good.”
Caleb released a guttural sound and squeezed his eyes shut. He started to thrust again, moving slowly, almost stiltedly.
He was trying to hold out until she came too.
Kelly had no idea why.
But he was barely holding on, and something more powerful was happening right now than an orgasm. She tightened her inner muscles around the thick substance of him inside her, jerked her hips to create rapid friction.
She stroked down his back, feeling the fabric of his dress shirt until she reached his ass. She felt the muscles of his firm flesh there, and kept stroking until she was reaching between his legs.
She squeezed his balls.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, staring down at her face with something almost unbearable in his expression.
He came—and all of the coiled tension in his hard, heated body freed itself with a throbbing, shaking release.
She could feel his climax throughout her own body, and it made the ache in her throat, in her chest, and between her legs even deeper, even more insistent.
She was as leveled as she’d been from her most powerful orgasms, and she didn’t even know why.
Caleb had collapsed over her, his warm, sated weight pressing her into the leather of the sofa. His face was buried in her hair at the crook between her neck and shoulder. He was breathing rapidly, and she could feel his body relax and grow almost pliant in the silence.
If she could just make herself think strategically, she would know this was good. He hadn’t just come. He’d come against his will. She should be able to use it.
But she couldn’t seem to make herself think that way.
She accepted his weight for a minute, until emotion burned in her throat, in her chest. She poked him in the shoulder.
“You all right?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he breathed, with a huff of ironic, self-deprecating amusement.
“The condom,” she reminded him, feeling his cock softening inside her.