I want him crying and begging for forgiveness for putting himself in danger so often.
It’s horrific.
When we make it back to the house hours later, I’m dusty and in dire need of a shower. Not to mention, I had to watch Caleb lean out of Sem’s truck and nearly fall out trying to guide him up a particularly scary ridge.
I stomp to the bathroom, Caleb calling out to me.
But I ignore him. I need to give him the silent treatment and maybe a good spanking for whatever the hell that was back there.
But he follows me like I knew he would, stepping into the shower, pulling my body into his, and nuzzling into my neck.
“Don’t be mad,” he says as I continue to lather myself up. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. As punishment.”
I pause a moment and then mutter. “You’d let me do that anyway.”
He runs his hands down my chest and cups my cock in his palm. It feels far too good. How he makes my bad mood dissipate with just a simple touch is beyond me.
I’m so far gone it’s laughable.
“Maybe I’ll justnotfuck you,” I manage to say, and he gasps, turning me in his arms.
I see the shock on his face. “That would be punishment enough.”
When he leans in to kiss me, I turn my face slightly, his mouth meeting my cheek.
“Seriously?” he whines. “You can’t still be mad at me.”
I purse my lips. “Hands on the wall, Caleb. I’m going to wash you.”
When he just stares at me, I lower my voice. “On the wall, Caleb.”
Then I wash him, slowly, making sure to tease his cock, his hole, his balls. Until he’s thrusting his hips forward, begging softly for more.
But I don’t give it to him.
Instead, I stop suddenly and step out of the shower, leaving him panting against the shower wall, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious,” he mutters as I dry myself off.
“I’m very serious, Caleb. I told you to stop being reckless, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t even wear your seatbelt in Sem’s truck.”
His bottom lip juts out, and he reaches for his cock, but I grab his wrist and push it against the wall.
“Touch yourself today, and I won’t fuck you for a week.”
His mouth parts. “You can’t be serious!”
“Try me.”
He groans when I leave the bathroom, and my lips curl up in a smug smile.
He’ll learn his lesson, one way or another.
“Ready to go?” I ask, holding the bouquet I asked Aunt Del to pick up for me before we arrived. It was a specific request for this occasion—flowers his mother loved.
Caleb eyes them, and his gaze softens, something that looks a lot like love moving through his eyes.
It makes me feel alive.
