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“Someone likes being told where they belong,” he growled, leaning close to my ear, sliding one hand around my side, up under my shirt to stroke my ribs, and finally wrapping the other around my cock, teasing the tip and coating his fingers with precome one at a time, playing with me before he started to stroke. “Someone likes getting what he deserves.”
I wanted to keep playing along and talking dirty, but all I could do was pant and swallow and stare, watch the way he touched me and try to match it up with the way it felt. It gave me a weird kind of vertigo, everything reversed, everything feeling like a surprise even while I could see it happening. I really did like to watch. And damnit, he was so fucking right.
I tilted my hips up, sliding my cock deeper into his fist, and he tightened his grip, making the next thrust more intense, and I closed my eyes, barely able to keep my head up.
“Look at that naughty boy,” he whispered, and this time it did feel like an order. A dare, maybe, and I opened my eyes, watched him lick up the side of my neck as he stroked harder.
He wassohot. His mouth and his arms and his hands and I justneededhim. I dug my fingers into his thighs, and when that wasn’t enough, I tried to reach behind for him, getting one arm around the back of his neck, fingers through his messy hair, pulling him closer, using him as leverage as I fucked his fist hard.
I lost track of what I was seeing and what I was imagining as my eyes flickered opened and closed, but it didn’t really matter. The pain was real and the want was real and when I came all over his hand and he whisperedMineas he pumped me dry, that was real too.
* * *
He fell back on the bed and brought me with him, and I wanted to flip over, rest my cheek on his chest and fall back asleep, but I didn’t have the energy for anything but breathing, hard and fast and raw in my throat. Eventually, he did it for me, hauling me back to the center of the bed with him like a goddamn caveman, like I was his fucking prize and motherfucker did I like being a prize.
He pulled me close and held me tight and then slid his hands down to cup and squeeze and play with the heat he’d laid down on my ass. And fuck, what a way to wake up. Way better than nightmares and panic attacks.
“You realize you’re not exactly encouraging me to behave,” I muttered against his tshirt, and he laughed.
“I’m more interested in convincing you to stay.”
“So this is bribery?”
“This is reality. This is where you belong, this is what you deserve, all of it. Behave, don’t behave, it won’t change that. I’ll still want you. I’ll still take care of you. And I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Now, why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make us some breakfast.”
CHAPTER NINE
Caleb’s shower was fucking great.First class, top shelf. Clean, smelled good, water pressure was kickass. I scrubbed my hair and my chest and my balls, breathing deep in the steam and feeling like I was in a fucking soap commercial, and then dialed that showerhead in and let it pound down on my ass while I bent over and leaned against the tile, just letting my head drop and my mouth hang open as all those little water drops drummed hard against my raw cheeks.
Give me long enough, maybe talk a little dirty to me, and I bet I could fucking come like that. Not that I had anything left. I hadn’t done anything about the guy’s hard on, and I wasn’t usually rude like that— unless the guy was into it, which a lot of guys were— but I guess when he gave orders, I listened. Some of the time. Who’s not going to listen totake a shower while I make breakfast?I’d make it up to him.
Pretty sure I’d never come so hard so early in the morning, and it gave me some crazy kind of energy and wiped me out at the same time, like maybe the only thing I had a buzz for was staying in bed all day and fucking.
Goddamn Sunday practice. And Monday. And Tuesday. When Saturday came around again, all I was doing was getting dicked down until we were both dead and stuck to the sheets.
Not that I was entirely sold on staying around that long, but… I reached back and rubbed my ass, remembering the way I’d looked in the mirror, so embarrassingly, completely his. Maybe I could be convinced.
* * *
The place was quietwhen I crept into the hallway, still feeling a little like I’d broken in, instead of been invited. So quiet I could hear chopping and stirring sounds coming from the kitchen. And the whole world smelled like fucking bacon, so maybe I might have broken in if I’d needed to.
The rest of the cards from last night were still spread across one side of the table and the other end was set with plates and forks and napkins and glasses, like a fucking restaurant, or I guess like normal people’s houses. I watched Caleb with his back to me, chopping something on a big wooden cutting board and then scraping it into a pan. It sizzled, and the smell of onions mixed in with the bacon I saw chilling underneath a paper towel on a plate next to him, and my mouth was literally watering.
When he turned to grab a wooden spoon from the jar on the counter, he saw me and smiled and the whole thing fucking blindsided me out of nowhere— knocked me flat like an Ollie getting the jump, and made it hard to breathe for a minute. Probably this was how a lot of people spent their weekend, just hanging around the kitchen eating bacon in their pajamas and shit, but I didn’t, and it was a way bigger feel than I expected. All that cozy shit I hated on so hard, yeah, guess what. I was a fucking liar.
“Hey.” He shut the burner off underneath the onions and grabbed a towel, wiping off his hands.
He turned all the way around, and there he was fully, Morning Beast. Messy hair, wrinkled clothes, bare feet. Wide awake and moving around the kitchen like a legit morning person. He was hot as hell and I didn’t know where to look first.
My eyes bounced around from him to the table to the stove to the counter to the coffeemaker with a full pot just sitting there waiting for me, and it was just overload like whoa. When he called me over with his fingers it was so easy to listen I didn’t even think about it.
As soon as I was close enough, he reached out and snagged me by the wrist, pulling me up into his chest and wrapping one arm around me, stroking the back of my head with the other. The dude really knew how to hit me in the unexpecteds.
I tensed up at first, not looking for a hug, but it only took a second for it to start to feel so good I relaxed anyway and let my hands slide around him and hold on. Not long, but long enough to let him know I didn’t totally hate it.
“Coffee?” he asked me, letting go like he could tell it was about to be too much, and I nodded. He turned and opened another one of the skinny cabinet doors and there was a whole collection of random mugs like this was the teachers’ lounge or something. He pulled down one that looked like a sunrise— red and orange and yellow stripes— and filled it up. “How do you take it?”
I shrugged. “This is good.”
