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So, when I made my decision to be with him, it was for the hope of healing that last part of me still broken.
Caleb was unique and I realized it right away. He had the magic combination I needed in order to take this step with someone. There was the desire for me that I recognized, and my attraction for him, of course—but, it was the way in which he was so patient and careful in showing me he wanted me which allowed me to trust him. I’d never felt as cherished as when he pulled me into his arms and brought me to his bedroom.
Somehow, I knew I could trust Caleb with my body. He would make me forget the horrible nightmare of Marcus. He would give me pleasure. He could make me whole again, and he’d do it all without trying to trap me, or control me, or hurt me. I didn’t want to think about anything more than just this night—my first with a man who made me feel like a desirable woman instead of a whore to fuck.
And I wanted him.
As he’d held me close in his huge bed, stroking over my hair and touching me with tenderness I’d never really known from anyone before, I knew what I wanted to do.
I waited until I was sure he was watching me in the doorway of his bathroom before I started getting naked.
Socks were the first to go. I peeled them off and dropped them to the marble floor, first one and then the other.
I put my hands on the hem of the soft black shirt and drew it up and over my head. My breasts were dragged upward from the friction of the fabric pulling on them before their weight brought them back down with a bounce. I imagined Caleb seeing my naked breasts and shivered. I felt my nipples harden into tight, aching knots at the thought of him watching me from his bed in the darkness.
My fingers shook as I dug them into the waistband of my flannel pajama bottoms and shimmied out of them. I kicked them aside with my foot and took a deep breath. I could feel his eyes on me, but the darkness beyond the light kept me blinded to him as I finished the final act of my strip show.
My new baby-blue knickers were the last to go. I turned away from him and faced the shower now pumping out clouds of hot steam, and slipped them off.
I tried to slow my thumping heart as I stepped carefully into the travertine-tiled grotto. Hot water poured over me from above out of three huge rain showerheads in a delicious soaking of body and spirit. Since there was no door for the shower, I didn’t hear him when he stepped in to join me.
I only felt his presence, sensing the change in the water spray as his body came into its path.
His hand a gentle weight on my shoulder, his lips a soft brush on the other side where my shoulder met the base of my neck. I fell back against him and let him support my weight as he kissed up my neck and found his way to a breast with his hand. He cupped it, taking the weight and pushing the flesh up before squeezing down on the center. My nipple tightened even more when he tugged on it with two fingers. I felt myself letting go of all inhibitions as he worked on me. Caleb knew just how to touch me and make me forget everything except for him, and what he could make me feel.
His hands and lips wandered everywhere, his touch gentle—but determined, his kisses reverent—but demanding. Perfection . . . as he awakened feelings in me I didn’t even know existed.
I was turned to face him with strong hands that held me back a distance. “I want to see you—every beautiful inch of you,” he said, his words thick with desire. Then he backed me into the wall until I was flat against it, exposed with nothing between us but hot water falling from above in a simulation of rain. The only sound was the rush of the streaming jets of water pounding down to the floor.
His eyes flared as they roamed over my body, giving me the thrill of knowing he was affected by what he saw. But I was more interested in what he had on display. Caleb was a magnificent specimen of the male form in every way. Cut muscles shaped his arms and wide shoulders, which tapered down to washboard abs that melted into a carved V of masculine beauty that took my breath away. One spectacularly beautiful man.
One spectacularly beautiful man, with a really impressive cock at the end of his sexy happy trail, hard with wanting. Wanting me and straining to get to me.
On a low breath that started and ended with my name, he knelt before me and put his hands down on the tops of my feet. He found my scars immediately and ran his lips along the lines in slow, worshipful, healing kisses that inched upward bit by bit. I shuddered at the image of him drawing his tongue up the inside of my thigh as he masterfully positioned my right leg over his shoulder. But then, I put up no resistance, because the obsessive need to have him keep going ruled every other possible thought.
The first draw of his tongue over my sex pulled a raw cry out of me. I gripped the shower wall with the flat of my hands to keep myself from slipping down to the floor. Caleb licked and sucked me to the brink of an orgasm with his magical tongue, swirling over my clit and then sucking it deep between his soft lips framed with the prickly stubble of his beard. The contrast of soft and sharp sent me over all in an instant, on one glorious rush.
“Caleb . . . I—I’m c-coming n-n-now—” I lost the ability to vocalize. Didn’t care about anything anymore . . . except feeling what he was giving me.
“Mmm-hmm, beautiful, you are,” I heard him say against my pussy as I blew apart into a million pieces, drowning in pleasure, fighting to breathe.
I became aware of being carried out of the shower and set down upon a hard surface. The counter? “You are so fucking gorgeous when you come.”
I moaned at the reminder of something so perfect I was sure I would never forget. “It felt fucking gorgeous,” I replied.
“I—I need you now, Brooke.” He held my face in his hands as if he was asking for permission, his dark-blue eyes piercing into me.
I nearly wept from the gesture. “Yes.”
He pulled a warm towel down from the rack and dried me off in between desperate kisses that stole my breath away. “You looked beautiful—so fucking sexy stripping for me. I almost came from watching you,” he said as he circled my breasts with the towel. “I want to make you come like that for me—all night long.” Then he tossed the towel away. The words he spoke meant everything to me. I could almost believe none of the bad had ever happened, because of how Caleb was with me right now.
I reached for him and raked my hands over the planes and valleys of his chest, traveling south with my hands until I gripped the hard length of his rigid cock. He bit down on his lip and threw his head back as I stroked up and down, learning the feel of the satin skin surrounding his flesh as hard as bone. I wanted—no, I needed Caleb inside me.
He fumbled around in a cupboard to my left and produced a handful of condoms, with several packets scattering all around as they fell to a soft landing. The crazy thought danced through my head of his comment about an Eagle Scout always being prepared, apparently even while having sex on the bathroom counter. But it went right on out of my mind just as quickly when I watched him tear one open and sheath himself. His penis was beautiful, and I wanted it in me. Like right now would be a lovely time for it.
Caleb kissed me decadently with his tongue probing deep in an almost frantic plea as he hooked a hand behind each of my knees and spread me open. He took his cock in hand and aligned it right where it needed to be . . . and buried it all the way inside me on a deep slide.
“Fuuuck!”
