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“Ahhhh!”
We both shouted in perfect synchronization.
We both watched our bodies joining in the most primitive of ways as he worked his cock in and out in piercing thrusts. I had to close my eyes after a moment because the image of us fucking was really too much intimacy for me to take in all at once. I just wanted to experience the sensation and pleasure of him right now. Just feel.
Caleb must have sensed where I was in my head because he found my mouth again and kissed away any doubts that tried to creep in. He linked his hands under my bum and carried me, still impaled on him, to his soft bed. “This is where I want to fuck for the first time. In my bed, beautiful, where you belong,” he told me as I was laid out upon ultrasoft sheets that smelled of him.
Where I belong?
Do I belong in Caleb’s bed? The idea was crazy, but I couldn’t deny I loved hearing it from him. His care for me was something priceless and ironically put me in danger of falling for him. Danger . . . I couldn’t risk. I knew I couldn’t fall in love with Caleb Blackstone. Sex. Recreational fucking. Taking pleasure in the act was all we would be able to have together. It would have to be enough for the both of us.
“But I have to see you while we do it.” He fumbled with something and the lights came on in the room that’d been darkened for sleep.
“Yes me, too,” I said, drawing my hands down to frame the perfect V between his hips, and admiring the godlike body connected with mine.
I got my wish.
I got to see everything in the light as we fought to find that beautiful, terrifying, exquisite end . . . together.
Caleb took my hands and dragged them over my head, trapping my wrists together with one hand, and gripped my hip with the other. Pinned in place benea
th him, I got a bold taste of dominant Caleb, and it pushed me even closer toward a second orgasm I knew was barreling toward me.
Then he started to really fuck—hard, deep plunges that bottomed out inside the heart of me, filling me to the brink with his thick male flesh, giving me a jolt of pleasure with each slide. I despaired whenever he would pull his cock away, just to rejoice when he drove it back in.
I felt all the magical goodness to be had in sexual intimacy—for the first time in my life.
And I caught glimpses of him straining beautifully above me, his lean muscles tight with tension, golden skin glistening with water and sweat as he took me. I gave myself up, but Caleb took me . . . just as I’d wanted him to. He was making me forget . . . just as I’d hoped he would.
Deep down inside me I felt his cock swell and harden even more, and knew the end was near. His hand pinning me down at my hip was removed as I felt his fingers slide over to stroke my sensitive clit. He was making sure I found my end. Bless him.
“Come with me. Come with me, Brooke. I—want—to—come—with—you,” he growled harshly, sounding almost savage in his need.
“I aaaaaaam.” The pulse started within me as I said it. I let myself fall over the razor’s edge into the glorious river of pleasure as Caleb throbbed out his own release in pounding pulls to draw out every last bit of perfect heavenly goodness.
Bless Caleb Blackstone for giving me something I’d never been given before by another man. Adoration.
I might just fall in love with him after all, I thought, as I drifted away into nirvana with him still inside me.
Caleb
My world grew exponentially smaller in the space of one day. My world was named Brooke Casterley, and she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen as we came together in an explosive melding of our bodies. As my heart pounded down from the orgasm, and I struggled to comprehend what’d just happened, I realized it had been much more than a melding of bodies for me. It had been the melding of my heart with hers. I could tell myself it wasn’t possible to feel any different after a session of really good sex, but I would be dead wrong. Because everything was different. Nothing was familiar when it came to Brooke. Each new thing we shared together felt to me as if I’d never done it before, and more importantly, as if I never wanted to do it again with anyone other than her—ever.
What could that possibly mean . . . unless I really was in love with her?
I pulled out of her carefully so we wouldn’t have a condom accident, and was rewarded with the sound of her muffled protest at me leaving. Another first. Wanting to reassure her that I would be right back was also something I’d never had the urge to do—before now. “Be right back, beautiful. Do you need anything?” I couldn’t resist tracing her lips with my finger.
She put her lips around the tip of my finger and sucked lightly. “Just you to come back and keep your promise,” she said, shyly looking up at me all soft and pleasured from her climax. And beautifully naked.
Hell yes, I knew exactly what promise that would be. My caveman brain still remembered the vow I’d made just after we left the shower. The one about me making her come all night long.
Yes, I was in total-without-a-fucking-doubt love with this girl, right here.
“I will. And I will.”
Only a moron would waste a lot of time in the bathroom cleaning the cum off his cock if his beautiful woman was waiting naked for him in the bed. So, no, I did not waste time. But I did pick her clothes up from the floor and fold them so she would see them when she came in here later. I collected up all of the spilled condom packets and put them back in the box, too. Then I took three out again and checked myself in the mirror. Yeah, that’s you wearing the shit-eating grin.
A shit-eating grin because Brooke wanted me keeping my promises, and like the Eagle Scout I am, I had every intention of keeping the very first oath on the list: a scout is trustworthy. Yes, why yes, I am trustworthy.
