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I’m startled by this news. “Really?”
Caleb puts his hand on my shoulder, lowering me to the bed. “He kept sending you these damned muffin baskets and stopped by every now and then.”
I can hear the jealousy in his voice, and I wonder if it’s strange that I like it. “I never got any baskets. I never saw him in the office either.”
Caleb is looming over me and untying my robe belt, parting it.
I tremble as his fingers brush over my skin, my abdomen, moving downwards until he’s running one finger up and down my soaked slit.
“You weren’t in the office that day when he sent you that first one.” He gives me a predatory look. “I gave it to Lucas.”
“That wasn’t—” One thick finger enters me, and I gasp out, “—yours.”
“I apologize,” Caleb says insincerely.
As his fingers start moving in an out of my pussy in an increasing rhythm, my back arches. “You owe me muffin baskets now.”
“I’ll get you the whole damn bakery,” he murmurs against my thigh which he’s busy kissing, and then his mouth replaces his fingers.
Now, I can’t think of anything but how good it feels as he laps at my pussy and sucks at the juices, fucking me with his clever tongue.
One thing that I’m starting to realize about Caleb is that he’s insatiable. And he’s going to get me addicted to his touch.
The room is filled with my breathless pants, cries and pleas as he mercilessly plows on, determined to drag as many orgasms as he possibly can from my pliable body. My fingers dig into the crumpled bedsheets and I watch myself through dazed, half lidded eyes at my legs dangling from his shoulders, my upper body half airborne, as he sits and eats me out to his heart’s content.
My body convulses under his mouth and he holds me still, making me feel helpless and out of control, “Caleb, please!”
He’s smirking against my pussy, his eyes on me, almost sadistic, greedy, as I writhe and sob out, the force of the orgasm draining me.
Five, six, I’ve lost count of how many times he’s made me come before he cleans me with his tongue and lowers me to the bed, pulling me gently in his arms.
I’m naked now, my backside pressed against the hardness of his clothes. My mind is a hazy bliss but concern still breaks through, as I say hoarsely, “You haven’t—”
He grabs my hand and presses a kiss to it. “This was for you. Get some rest.”
I mumble something but exhaustion wins and I’m sliding into sleep.
15
Caleb
Kendall sleeps like the dead in my arms, snuggled into my side, her arms wrapped around my middle, her face buried in the side of my hip where I’m sitting while going over every article I can find about last evening.
I can never truly anticipate this woman.
She had been in love with me.
The shock of this revelation still hasn’t been digested yet.
I hadn’t known that Kendall had been in love with me. Even when left the orphanage on my eighteenth birthday, she hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t let it slip, just held me and cried.
Her tears now took on a whole new meaning and I let my eyes roam over her still figure, and I curse myself for not having found her earlier.
I never thought she would remain a virgin but the years old scars on her back might have been incentive not to let anyone see them. She might not be ashamed of them but she’s still wary of other people’s reactions. This explains the panic attack she had when Lana had called me.
Her robe is slipping off and I touch the upraised skin on her back, fury igniting in my chest at the idea of her having to have endured this. I want to ask her but not yet. For now, there is still hesitation in her eyes, doubt of whether she’s done the right thing by sleeping with me. Until I erase that wariness, I need to hold off on the questions.
But when I find out who’s responsible for the scars that mar her back, I’m going to break them. There are a lot of ways to hurt someone without getting caught.
