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“Because I’m on my fucking sickbed here and I really want to fuck you.”
I giggle against his mouth. “I think we can probably manage on your sickbed. I love you, Caleb, and I want to make love to you right now. If you don’t want that, just tell me to stop.”
He pants as he stares up at my face. I’ve never seen anything like the naked longing, hunger, heat in his eyes right now. There’s a long moment when everything balances on the edge, on the cusp.
Then he uses his hold on my hair to bring my head back down toward his. “Please don’t stop.”
Pleasure, relief, and joy wash over me in waves as I surrender completely to the kiss. I’m still stroking him through his shorts, and he’s still caressing my ass and thighs with his one good hand. And it’s so raw and intimate—genuine—that my heart overflows even as my body responds viscerally to his touch.
I’m wet and aching between my legs when he mumbles, “I’m going to lose it in about two minutes.” His hips lift toward my hand as I squeeze him.
I laugh in breathy huffs. “How should we do this? I don’t want to risk messing up your injury again.”
“You better be on top.” His eyes never leave me as I carefully straddle him on the bed, pushing down his shorts to free his erection, and then align myself over him so I can slowly fit him inside me.
Both of us groan at the penetration. I lean forward to kiss him again, holding my weight on my hands so I won’t put any pressure on his injury.
He doesn’t seem to feel anything that isn’t good. His hips are already rocking up into me in helpless little thrusts, and his face is contorting in deep pleasure.
“Baby. Oh fuck, baby.”
“Caleb.” I’m starting to move over him, trying to restrain my enthusiasm so our motion isn’t too vigorous for his physical condition.
His hands clamp down on my ass, holding me in place, clutching possessively. “I love you, baby.”
My heart bursts open, flooding my body. I’ve never experienced anything like it. This perfect melding of heart and body. Internal and external. Inside and outside. Finally one.
“I love you too,” I gasp, riding him with urgent little pumps of my hips. “God, I love you so much.”
We’re shaking the bed, but I’m still trying to be careful. Since I can’t risk anything rougher, I move one hand down to rub at my clit.
I let out a low moan as I tighten around him and the pleasure surges forward.
He’s grunting softly, still holding me with a grip that never wavers.
Then I come hard and intense and silent, my body shuddering through the contractions. Climax hits him right after me. He jerks and gasps and lets himself go, breathing out again and again that he loves me.
I know it’s true.
I know it will last.
And I also know he isn’t going to hold on to his lingering fears for very long.
I’m happy. And I’m sure it’s safe to let myself be.
We don’t hold on to each other for very long after we come. He’s still injured, and I don’t want to risk any damage.
Caleb is still sprawled on the bed, flushed and panting but relaxed. He looks almost debauched, and I feel a ridiculous little thrill of pride that I’m the one who made him look that way.
“How’s your injury?” I ask, settling on the bed beside him.
“I’m feeling no pain.”
I chuckle. “I meant we didn’t make it bleed again or anything.”
He shakes his head, patting the bandages on his arm as if to verify they’re still in place. Then he reaches out to take my hand, holding it in his.
It feels significant.
