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I moan around him, angling my head to take him deeper.
“Or maybe I should come on those pretty tits,” he mutters hoarsely. “Paint you with my cum, watch it trickle over your sweet nipples, have you lick it up for me.”
The world blurs. All that matters is the eight thick inches buried down my throat, so deep all I can do is slobber and gasp as he mercilessly fucks my mouth. My body is aching for him, but I wouldn’t dream of stopping, of touching myself to ease the ache.
In this moment, I exist for his pleasure only. Used.
His.
Caleb thrusts faster, his body going tense. “Fuck, baby, just like that.” He bucks wildly against my mouth, and I reach up, cupping his balls, squeezing lightly as I bob on his cock. He answers with a roar. “Fuck. Yes. Yes!”
He wrenches free from my mouth and explodes in a torrent of hot cum, spurting over my face and breasts. I sit back on my knees, taking it obediently, loving the wild look in his eyes as he’s lost to pleasure, clutching the wall for balance until finally, he’s spent.
Caleb opens his eyes, looking down at me. I smile back. “Well, fuck,” he says with a chuckle. “Look at you. You made a real mess.”
“I think that was you,” I say, laughing. Caleb helps me to my feet, and I reach for the washcloth to rinse off.
He stops me.
“No. You heard me. Lick it up.”
My stomach clenches. Is he serious? But Caleb’s eyes are boring into me like steel.
This isn’t over yet.
I delight at the thought.
Slowly, obediently, I lift one breast, bending my head to lick off his cum. Caleb reaches out, swirling the sticky mess over my skin. I can’t believe I’m really doing this—or that it’s so amazingly hot.
“Remember the taste, sweetheart,” he growls possessively. “That’s who owns you. That’s who’ll make you beg. Only me.”
“Yes, you,” I whimper, squeezing my thighs together at the rush.
I’m his. Completely.
Caleb begins to soap me down, washing my skin, cleaning me with slow, deliberate strokes. I sink into his embrace, hypnotized by the feel of his hands on my skin. Roving over me, teasing at my damp breasts, making me shiver with his sudden gentleness.
He’s a man of contradictions. Passion and control. Steel and molten fire. Tenderness and brutal domination. I never know when he’ll flip the switch, but I love every moment of the ride.
Now, his touch turns soft, barely brushing me, but making me squirm as his fingertips dip between my thighs. He strokes my clit, delving into my wetness, inhaling in a sharp breath.
“So wet,” he murmurs, stroking up again, toying with my breasts. “So ready for me.”
“Yes, please,” I breathe, head spinning.
Caleb shuts off the shower and wraps me in a fluffy towel, drying me off, then leads me to the bedroom. I follow, my legs unsteady. I feel like I’ve gone five rounds, but he hasn’t even fucked me properly yet.
I can’t wait for more.
Caleb sits me on the bed, and I scoot back eagerly, spreading my legs wide for him.
But Caleb doesn’t take me hard and fast. He doesn’t even make love to me tenderly. He stands there, looking down at me. Drinking in the sight of me.
“We’re going to play a little game,” he finally says, and the temptation in his voice sends shivers down my spine.
“What kind of game?”
He doesn’t answer me. “Lay back.”
