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It hits me with sudden clarity that his touch feels like what I was feeling earlier. Needing more, but knowing that we’re running out of time. I should stop this and save us both some pain. But right now, sending him away or telling him to stop touching me would be the most painful thing that I can imagine.
At the same time, there’s an aching tenderness to the way he’s touching me. Like he’s trying to savor every second before it’s gone. Caleb’s lips brush across my chest and between my breasts, where he pays attention to each one, licking and sucking until my nipples are hard points. Heat is already building under my skin. If he keeps his attention where it is, it’s entirely possible that I’ll come from him playing with my nipples alone. That’s never happened before to me, but there’s a first time for everything.
He grazes his teeth across one, and I can’t stop the gasp that flies out of my mouth. Dark eyes are drawn to mine for a moment, before he does it again, back and forth until I’m writhing on the bed and on the verge of begging him to keep going.
When he does move, his lips don’t leave my skin. They draw down the center of my stomach until they reach the barrier of my pants, and he pulls those away too, discarding my panties along with them. One thing I’ve learned, Caleb always prefers me completely naked. As much skin as possible for him to touch and taste.
I can count on one hand the number of nights I’ve ended up sleeping with any clothes on at all. And now that they’re gone, I feel more comfortable. It’s crazy how quickly something can become a routine.
The feeling of his lips on my skin makes me question every thought that I’ve had tonight. Every brush of his mouth is filled with what feels like love, but that can’t be, can it?
Caleb pushes my legs apart and dives between my thighs like he’s a starving man. I’m already wet for him, so ready to let him make me fall into pleasure that only he’s been able to pull out of me. But he doesn’t. His kisses are soft and gentle, so attentive and slow, it feels like he’s memorizing me.
He seals his mouth over my clit, sucking with soft pulses that pull moans from my throat. I grab his hair and make sure he doesn’t fucking move. It’s too good to let him go anywhere else. I focus on the way his tongue is stroking, over and over and over until I’m at the edge and ready to fall.
I don’t though. Caleb pulls away, coming up to meet me, lips at my ear. This time stealing my orgasm isn’t a punishment, it’s a plea. “Wait for me.”
He wants to do this together. The broken tone of his voice isn’t something I ever want to hear again. I nod. And he thrusts in. I don’t tell him that we’re once again ignoring protection, because I don’t care. I want to feel him just like this, bare and inside me with nothing between us, even if this is the last time that I ever get to do that.
Drawing my legs up, I wrap them around his waist so I can take him deeper. The way he’s pushing in, everything is smooth and even and confident. He knows the way my body works now and which buttons to press to wring out as much ecstasy from my body as possible.
Caleb kisses me, silently demanding more. Why does it feel like he’s asking for everything? And why do I feel like I might want to give it to him?
We move together, no words necessary to rise to the end. But he whispers my name against my lips. It’s both a prayer and a plea. Just my name. Asking me to stay.
It comes on us at the same moment, a shuddering wave of pleasure that we both feel. It comes crashing down and we cling to each other deeper as it washes over. This isn’t like the other times we’ve had sex. It’s not the wild passion that we’ve shared, or the lazy comfort. This is something that we both need. Visceral and real.
I love him. I don’t care that I’ll be shattered to a million pieces when he’s gone, I’ll take what I can get. The words are racing past my lips before I can stop them, but I wouldn’t want to anyway.
“I love you.” It’s nothing but a whisper, but it means the world to me. “I love you. I love you.”
Caleb’s dark eyes meet mine, sharp and alert in a way they weren’t when he entered the room. He searches my face like he’s looking for the answer to a question that he hasn’t asked. But then … “Are you sure?”
