He won’t just break my heart.
He’ll crush it.
He’ll grind it into dust and blow it away so no one else can have it.
It’s sick, but if him crushing my heart means he held it for even a second…it’s worth it. Why? Because I see it now. I see his pain, his heartache. He is filled with darkness—darkness he has inflicted on himself.
I met a man like Caleb once. He was old—fifty, maybe—and he lived in a little tin bin under a train bridge in Bismarck. I was fourteen and chasing a basketball when it rolled underneath the bridge. It hit his bin and as I ran up to it, he popped his head out. He terrified me at first, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was sad…and lonely. We didn’t talk for long, but in that time I found out his parents were killed in a car accident when he was younger and his wife and child were murdered in a shooting. The only reason he told me was because he thought I looked like his daughter. He became homeless because he had nothing to live for. He’d cut his wrists whenever it got too much and eventually, he took his own life.
Grief and guilt are intense emotions that develop into serious illnesses too. A disease of the brain, the heart, and the soul.
I couldn’t help that homeless man…but Caleb can still be saved.
Caleb makes no move to put his hands on me—even though I asked him to. He wants to. It’s in his parted lips and tight stomach. It’s the desperation in his eyes and the hard, curve to his penis that presses eagerly against my abdomen. Our eyes remain locked, neither of us making any further moves. Exhaling, I grip the hem of my shirt.
“Cassia…” He warns.
I don’t listen.
This is what I want. I can’t hold out any longer. I tug my purple tank top off over my head and toss it to the floor. I chose a white, lacy, see through bra on purpose. It’s the only pretty one I have left after Mom ransacked my lingerie drawer post Thomas.
“Put your shirt back on.” He says, swallowing hard.
I shake my head. I wonder how dry his mouth is. I wonder how badly he wants to wet it with me.
He blows out an impatient exhale. “You’re killing me.”
“No…” I tell him. “I’m saving you.”
His lips twitch. In retrospect, I am. If we leave here without finally giving into temptation…it just might drive us mad. The sexual tensions, the angst, the games…I can’t take it anymore.
My bra straps slip down my arms and I cup my own breasts, keeping the fabric from peeling off me.
No.
More.
Games.
Caleb slams forward, crashing into me. I don’t know what happened. One minute he’s placid and the next he’s out of control—a rabid beast who has been starved for too long.
Air is sucked from my lungs as his mouth devours mine. His hands are in my hair, on my face, squeezing my ass. They’re everywhere at once, overwhelming my senses. I lose my bra in the desperate fumble.
“Shoes.” He demands. “Now.”
My heart pounds, thrumming like the bass in a club beat. Pushing on each heel, I kick my shoes off and barely manage to regain my footing as Caleb snags the hem of my leggings in his hands.
“Anyone ever tell you leggings aren’t pants?”
I whimper, wrapping my fingers around his. “There are more important things for you to be focusing on, Caleb Andrews.”
I wiggle my hips, pushing his hands down with mine, dragging my leggings and my underwear with them.
He tugs me close, wrapping an arm around my waist, his finger spreading on to the curve of my bare ass. He kisses my neck and I sigh, tipping my head to the side.
“Is this fucking happening?” He breathes against my skin.
I nod, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It’s finally happening.”
Somewhere between that sentence leaving my mouth and my thighs pressing against the edge of the table, I’m lost in a euphoric abyss of male touch, feeling pleasures I’ve never known. Who knew blood could hum like this?
I close my eyes and revel in the feel of his hands as they memorize every pore on my body. He has beautiful, large hands and they feel like silk on my skin.
He has the hands of an angel.
A fallen angel…
Caleb shoves my hips and I drop against the table, my ass pressing against the cool surface. Catching myself, I plant my hands on either side of me. His volcanic eyes glimmer with specks of green lava as his gaze sweeps along my collar bone, dances down my stomach and dips between my legs.
“I shouldn’t…” He mutters, crouching low.
I swallow as he stares at my pussy, his hand over his mouth like he can’t handle the sight of it.
“I want you to.” I say, opening my legs a little wider.
Caleb groans, his face contorted in pain as he pushes himself to his feet.
“I shouldn’t.” He hisses, threading his fingers behind his head. “What if…what if this changes everything?”
“Please…” I beg, leaning back on my elbows. “Put me out of my misery. Make me come.”
He crouches low again, this time a little closer.
“You’re so fucking wet…” He moans and I close my eyes, my body shivering at the sound. “I’ve barely touched you.”
His fingers brush along my inner thigh and I gasp, my whole body tightening.
“I’ll taste you.” His kisses my knee. “That’s all I’ll take from you.”
I drop my head back. I’ll take that over nothing. His hands slide up my thighs, his hot breath blowing softly against my flesh. I shiver, my thighs tensing, tightening themselves against the merciless brush of his jaw. I hold my breath…waiting for his mouth to transport me to hell—a sweet, torturous hell.
He holds me in suspense, the kind that accompanies the final chapter in a novel…and then, finally, all of the torment I’ve suffered through since our first meeting is worth it when he pushes his tongue firmly against my sweet spot.
At last.
“Ohh!” My back arches, my hands fly to his hair. “Fuck!”
He licks me, violently, relentlessly, making my body shake with a ferociousness I’ve never experienced.
He doesn’t lick me like he’s learning my body.
He licks me like he already knows it.
Like he owns it.
I force myself to peek between my legs—something I never did with Thomas—and my breath hitches in my throat when our eyes lock.
“You taste so fucking good.” He groans, grabbing my hips and tugging me harder against his face. “I’m going to eat you until there’s nothing left.”
I shudder as he holds my ass firmly against the table. My arousal mixes with his saliva and I can feel it roll over my pebbled skin. I’ve never had such a furious case of goosebumps before. They feel amazing. Every inch of my body is on fire, burning with hypersensitivity. How can I stop at this? How can I stop at oral sex when my body so desperately wants to be filled by something firm, something fleshy?
Without warning, Caleb pushes two fingers into my soaking pussy and I moan.
Loud.
I rock my hips, desperate to get his fingers deeper. It’s been so long…so long since anyone has touched me like this. I need it—and not just this. I need to be fucked too.
Hard.
Caleb curses under his breath, working his fingers overtime. My whole body shakes as I barrel toward my orgasm only to linger on the precipice.
In this moment, I don’t know who I am. I’m bold and uncaring, completely entranced by the sin that is sex.
It goes on for a small eternity—the teasing—dangling me above a state of pure bliss. My throat is dry from begging for him, all of the moisture in my body being drawn out by his perfect fingers. I can’t take it anymore.
I sit up as he pulls away from between my legs. His eyes are black, his lids heavy with lust. Without a word, I grip him by the collar of his shirt and pull him toward my face. His lips glisten with me and I hope a time comes when I can return the favor. I’d love nothing more than to have his pre-cum on my lips and make him lick it off.
I drag my tongue along his lower lip and his breath catches in his throat. His fingers cease to move. His entire body is tense, frozen on the spot, as I taste myself on his sinful lips.
“This has to be a fucking dream.” He murmurs, his hands sliding over my hips and onto my ass.
I shake my head, kissing him on the mouth as I reach for his slender, metal belt buckle. His jaw tightens as I unfasten it. Complex doesn’t begin to describe this man. I’m here, naked, begging him to have sex with me, and undressing him with my bare hands. This is what he’s wanted this whole time…and now he’s fighting against it? What is he so afraid of?
“This is real.” I say, pulling his belt and tossing it to the floor.
Caleb slaps my hands away and I snap them to my chest as he unbuttons his own pants.
“We shouldn’t do this, Cassia.” He tells me, his voice thick with warning and sympathy.
“What? Sex?”
He nods.
“Since when?”
“Since I decided you could be detrimental to my mental health.” He snaps, his eyes flaring with frustration.
I frown, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “And when did you decide that?”
“A few minutes ago.”
One by one, I unbutton him, disregarding the fact he might not even want to fuck.
“So…you don’t want to do this?”
“Are you kidding? This is all I’ve wanted to do since I saw your face.”
“Then do it.”
“And if we do, then what happens? Do we become friends? Do we go our separate ways and write this off as a fling?”
His shirt falls open and I can’t resist sliding my hands inside, dragging my palms over his formed chest. “Caleb…”
“Maybe you get a new boyfriend and move on with your life while I waste away in this fucking church, fake praying and banging insecure females to fill a void that will never go away.”
I flinch, my heart threatening to beat holes in my chest. Does he want to be more? Can he bring himself to be more? Can I?
“We can be whatever you want to be…” I find myself saying.
He flinches, a cruel smile spreading across his lips. “You’re dependent and I’m fucking unstable. That isn’t exactly a match made in heaven.”
“I’m not looking for perfection.”
Am I trying to convince him that a relationship is a good idea? I think that’s what I’m doing. It’s not a good idea. It’s the exact opposite of a good idea. How do you trust someone like Caleb not to hurt you?
“And I’m not looking for anything at all.” He states, his eyebrows drawing closer.
“We could be great.” I point out, my heart seizing control of my voice.
We wouldn’t be great. We’d be a fucking state of emergency. A catastrophic disaster of epic proportions.
“You’d be great. I’d be deadweight.”
I curl my fingers around his pants and push. Reluctantly, he lets me slide them from his grasp. Smiling triumphantly, I let them fall.
“I want this.” I say, sliding my hands down his hips and onto his thighs. “Forget later. This is what I want now.”
I lean in for a kiss and as our lips touch, my fingers slide over rough, uneven skin. I pause as his lips twitch into a slight smirk.
“Surprise.” He mutters, somewhat pleased.
I glance down and I completely bypass the beautiful cock pointing up at me. His thighs are cut, scarred by various lines. Some are healed and some are in the process of healing. How’d I miss them the last time he took his penis out of his pants?
“Are they…what I think they are?”
My heart aches. How can he do that to such flawless skin? After all these years…does the loss of his sister and his mother still hurt that much? I drag the tips of my fingers along them, lightly following the scars as they branch off from each other, like furious bolts of lightning.
“Does it hurt?”
Caleb snatches my hair in his hand and I wince as he tugs my head back. He cranes his neck, lowering his mouth to mine.
“Stop it.” He orders against my lips, squeezing my hair in his fist.
“You can talk to me.”
He drops his head to the nape of my neck and drags his nose along my collar bone. “If you want to fuck, we can fuck, just keep your questions to yourself.”
So this is his way of dealing? He deflects from himself instead of facing the problem front on? He craves comfort, so he fucks whatever and whoever he wants to get his temporary fix, and then what? He goes home and cuts himself? Why?
You’d think with a priest for a father he’d have some substantial emotional support.
“Fine.” I drag my hand up his thigh and wrap my fingers around his cock.
He sucks a breath through his teeth. He’s hard, so hard the skin is tight and his veins protrude.
“But you’re going to regret this moment.” I tell him, planting a kiss on his chin. “You’re going to regret not letting me in when you had the chance.”
He brings his forehead to mine, his hungry stare on my lips. “I don’t doubt it.”
I lean in for another kiss, only he lets me go and shoves me back. I plant my hands on the table, stopping myself from falling flat against it.
I gasp as Caleb presses the head of his bare cock against my clit, sending white hot lava through my body. I’ve never felt a bare, unprotected penis against my vagina before.
It’s so. Fucking. Good.
Fucked up, sure.
But good.
I shiver and Caleb watches me with that grin I love so damn much.
“Been a while, huh?”
I nod as he slides his cock up and down the outside of my pussy, pressing ever so slightly as he passes over the entrance, making my hips flex and my muscles tense every. Single. Time.
Pre-cum leaks from him already and he groans as the added lubricant makes him slide faster.
“I could come like this.” He moans, watching himself tease my swollen entrance.
I shake my head, moving my hips. “Fuck. Don’t you dare.”
Caleb chuckles darkly, his hands snaking up my thighs and over my flat stomach. As he leans over me, I wrap my legs around his hips and squeeze, forcing him closer, forcing his thick cock to push against my entrance. Caleb hisses, his hands reaching my breasts. I crunch my body, slipping my hand between us as he squeezes my breasts in his hands.
My heart pounds against his. His body feels amazing against mine. We fit together like a jigsaw piece. Our bodies curve with each other’s rises and fill each other’s depressions. We are a match. An undeniable match, like the king and queen of any suit.
As Caleb pulls his hips back to slide his cock against me, I grab his shaft in my hands and tilt my hips. The head of his cock pushes into me—oh fuck.
My heart stutters and his hands clench as I pull him inside my body. My mouth parts against his shoulder and I taste his clean flesh. Sighing, I drop back against the table.
“Shit.” Caleb lowers his head to my chest. “You beautiful bitch.”
He slides in softly, pushing me hard against the surface of the table. I arch my back as he pulls out and slips in, gently stretching me in order to accommodate him.
The moment I take him all, his balls pressing against my ass, my breath being forced from my lungs, his groan in my mouth…he loses it.
I cry out as he flicks his hips, pumping his rigid cock in and out of me.
Over and over and over again.
I try to touch him, to hold on to him, but he pins my hands against the hard surface above my head, leaving me defenseless and completely at his mercy.
He feels fucking amazing against me, like I thought he would…it’s Heaven and Hell rolled up into one smooth, fiery ball of naughty perfection.
“I am fucking soaked.” Caleb groans, panting above me.
He sucks at my neck, biting my skin between his sharp teeth, and I hiss.
“Who knew you’d be quite the gusher, Cass?” He licks my face and I lose my breath. “You walk around so innocent, but deep down you’re a little whore, aren’t you?”
My head spins. I can barely hear what he’s saying as he breathes harshly, blowing warm air over my face.
“You know what cock does to you. That’s why you want it so bad.”
I nod, desperately. I’d agree to anything if it meant he’d keep going. With every stroke, he hits a special spot—a spot that has remained untouched by anyone, including myself, until now. Every thrust takes me higher and higher, making it that tiny bit harder to breathe. When I think I’ve reached the height of it, his cock hits it again, pushing me further with no end in sight…until it comes in waves. A little at first, enough to take control of my breathing and have me gasping like I’ve sprinted a mile. Then it picks up, squeezing moans from my chest. Then the insatiability hits and what he’s doing just isn’t enough.
“Caleb…” I blow out on a forced exhale.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m going to…” I shudder, gasping.
Another wave of pleasure builds up and it’s not your standard wave that blows in with a tropical storm.
No.
It’s a wave that is stirred up by the category five hurricane. It’s relentless, unstoppable, and suddenly, I’m a storm chaser, desperate to experience the surge of a lifetime.
Caleb pulls out and oh how quickly the storm dissipates, the swell receding in an instant. Stepping back, he tugs on my thighs, pulling me off the table. I barely have time to steady myself on my feet before he turns me around and bends me over the table.
“You want to come?” He chuckles darkly, pushing my head against the table, my body resting in the mess we’ve already made.
I nod, desperately. “Yes. Yes, oh, please. Yes.”
He fucks me hard. So hard the tables bang together. So hard the floor vibrates under my feet. I’m loud and I don’t give a shit if the elderly people in retirement village next door can hear me. None of it matters because in this moment, only I matter. Only my needs matter and I relish in Caleb as he fucks away all the pent up aggression I’ve stored since moving to Paradise Valley.
“Caleb…”
He slaps me hard against the ass and I jolt forward, only for him to catch me by my hair and pull me back. Pain sears over my scalp and dances along my spine. I pull away from him, until the searing is unbearable. Until the orgasm in me is raging, roaring, desperate for me to let it wreak havoc. I hold it for as long as I can.
Who knows when I can have this again? Who knows what tomorrow will bring now that Caleb has had me.
I hold down the fort well, ignoring Caleb as he tells me how close I am to coming.
“Your deliciously tight cunt is milking me. You want it all, huh? Every drop of my cum?”
“All of it.” I demand, moving backwards to meet his thrusts.
His hands move over my ass, squeezing, slapping, and pinching until my blood rises to the surface and burns pleasantly. I can’t breathe. I try to hold onto, but the table is too slick and just when I think I can’t possibly take anymore, Caleb slips his wet thumb into my ass.
And I lose it.