12. Caleb
12
CALEB
I knew something was wrong when Olivia left the salon shortly after Victoria excused herself to go to the restroom. I wanted to follow her, but Don Dragonetti was trying to convince the police commissioner that the Rinse would run smoothly with an alliance between mafia families, and I couldn’t let them iron out the details without my input. This is my brother’s business they’re toying with.
Mom warned me not to let Olivia out of my sight. She even quoted the old English idiom, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned , until I reminded her that Olivia isn’t scorned, she’s simply spoiled. “All the more reason to keep Victoria safe,” she’d said.
My mom’s words are still playing out behind my eyelids when I spot Victoria bolting towards the exit. “Victoria!” I call out her name, but she either doesn’t hear me, or she doesn’t want to be with me.
Then I spot Olivia skulking near the chrome counter in the main dining area, with a twisted smile on her face.
I’m only half a dozen steps behind Victoria, but it’s enough to make me run when I hear the gunshots. My heart is hammering to get out of my chest when I find her standing just outside the restaurant. Frozen. Her back to me.
Somewhere nearby, glass shatters. Someone screams, I think it’s coming from outside. Voices behind me. Panic fills the air. And still Victoria is rooted to the spot.
I run to her, shrugging my suit jacket off my shoulders, and throwing it over her head without thinking. Survival instinct kicks in. I coax her into a crouching position and cover her with my body. Shielding her from whatever is going on.
Through my jacket, she feels as frail as a bird. Her heart is racing wildly. I scan the sidewalk and spot someone lying on the ground a few feet away, blood oozing from a shoulder wound. A man.
Don Dragonetti!
Other pedestrians are lying on the ground with their arms covering their heads. The traffic has stopped. I hear sirens in the distance; maybe they’re heading our way, maybe they’re not. It’s a regular night in New York City.
What this isn’t, is a regular night in the life of Caleb Murray.
A hand lands on my shoulder. I glance around to find Kyle kneeling beside me, his face pale in the glow of the streetlamps. The lights inside the restaurant have been dimmed. No one is moving.
“See to Don Dragonetti.” I gesture with a nod in the don’s direction. He’s motionless, but there isn’t enough blood for the shoulder wound to prove fatal.
Thank fuck .
I can’t even begin to think about what this will mean to our already tenuous relationship. If he tries to pin this on the Murrays, it will ignite the war we’ve been trying to avoid. But right now, I need to move Victoria to safety.
As Kyle crawls over to the don, I fire a message through to Terry. He’ll want to handle this one personally.
Sliding my phone back inside my pants pocket, I raise the collar of my jacket and peer underneath it at Victoria. She’s trembling violently. “It’s okay, I’m getting you out of here.”
She blinks, forcing tears to spill over her bottom lashes. “Abigail…” she whispers.
“Abigail is fine.”
She just almost got killed, and her first thought is for her niece. Her scumbag piece of shit brother doesn’t deserve these women in his life, and once this is over, I’m going to make sure he knows it.
Victoria nods. “I want to go home.”
She means home-home, but this isn’t the right time to tell her that I can’t take her home. That she’s safer with me even though I’m probably the last person she wants to be with right now.
“I’m taking you home. The car will be here any minute.” I shift my legs around her, so that I’m shielding her from the view of Don Dragonetti when I notice blood on her arm.
Shit .
“Victoria, are you hurt?”
She shakes her head, her eyes dark and wide. She’s in shock. It will sting like fuck once the adrenaline starts to fade.
I have two choices: I can take her to the ER, or I can take her home and look after her myself. Okay, scratch that. I only have one choice. Too many questions will be asked at the hospital, and this isn’t the way I’d planned on announcing my marriage to the rest of the world.
A final glance at Kyle and the mafia boss, who is now sitting upright on the sidewalk, blood seeping through his shirt sleeve, and I know what I must do.
When the car pulls up on the curb, I nod for Terry and his man to get out and help Kyle move Don Dragonetti into the back seat. It’s the least we can do: get him away from the crime scene until his own men can move him to a safe house.
A second car pulls up behind Terry. The sirens are getting closer, but my stepdad probably made it as difficult as possible for the emergency services to get here, buying himself a few precious minutes to scope out the damage first.
Two men in black suits climb out. One opens the back door while the other tries to help me move Victoria, but I scoop her up into my arms, her head still covered by my jacket and resting against my chest and cross the sidewalk in three easy strides. Inside the car, I pull Victoria onto my lap and hold her close until we’re moving away from the restaurant. Her shivering subsides a little, but I don’t relax my hold on her.
The car pulls into the Wraith’s basement lot and my secure parking area.
“We’re home now.” I smooth Victoria’s hair away from her face like she’s a child. “I want you to stay under the jacket until we’re inside, okay?”
The trembling resumes, and she grabs my sleeve. “No, Caleb. What’s happening? I need to get Abigail and take her home.”
“Abigail is safe, I promise you.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Do you trust me?”
She peers into my eyes in the stark overhead lights of the parking lot, and despite the fear in her dilated pupils, she nods.
The bodyguards shield me from the rest of the lot as I climb out of the car with Victoria in my arms. Two strides, and we’re in the penthouse elevator. Victoria’s heart is still thudding, but now her heartbeats are more in sync with mine, and I feel her relax against me as I carry her through my apartment and into my bedroom.
I set her down on top of the burgundy silk comforter, and unwrap my jacket from around her shoulders, plumping up the pillows underneath her head. I allow my eyes to close briefly with relief when I realize that the wound on her upper arm is little more than a graze.
This isn’t the world I want to bring my wife and kids into, but what’s worse in Victoria’s case is that I never elaborated on what she was signing up for. Selfishly, I bribed her with financial gain, and never once indicated that she was stepping out of a humdrum life and into a world where danger and glamor walk hand in hand. I never really gave her the choice. She had to accept because, thanks to me, the alternative was unemployment and the bread line.
“Caleb?” The fear is back in her shrinking voice. “What is it?”
“Don’t panic, Victoria.” I sit on the side of the bed and place my arms on either side of her head, forcing her to look at me. Only at me. “I’m going to fix you some brandy, and you’re going to drink it for me like a good girl.”
“No.” Her eyes flicker to the wound on her right arm, but I intercept her gaze before she can see it. It’s probably starting to smart about now, but it’ll hurt a lot worse without the brandy.
“I need you to trust me.”
While I’m talking, I reach for the brandy decanter on the nightstand and half fill a heavy crystal tumbler. Supporting her head, I raise the glass to her lips and wait for her to swallow the amber liquid. She grimaces as it goes down.
“It burns, huh?”
Victoria nods, and I lay her head back down on the pillow. “Stay right there.” Her eyes widen briefly before she inhales deeply and closes them again.
I fetch the medical kit from my ensuite. When I sit back down beside her, her eyes flicker open, and she smiles lazily at me. “Caleb…” It’s the brandy taking effect.
“Close your eyes.” I open a sterile antiseptic wipe to clean the graze. “This might sting a little.”
Victoria wriggles on the pillow trying to get comfortable, her hair fanning out around her. She releases a sigh, and I clean the wound gently, my gaze dipping back and forth to be sure that I’m not hurting her. She hardly stirs. When I’ve cleaned the blood from her skin, I inspect the wound more closely before I cover it with a dressing. The bullet must’ve grazed her. She got lucky, this time.
She doesn’t need stitches, but I still need to convince her to keep quiet about the incident. And why should she? She got a whole lot more than she bargained for when she signed that marriage contract and buying her off won’t quite cut it anymore.
I watch her sleeping.
There’s a vulnerability about her that’s quite addictive. It’s not a weakness, if anything it’s her strength, but she just doesn’t know it yet. It set her apart from the other women at the table tonight, made her seem real when everyone else was masquerading as the people they’re expected to be. Ironic really.
I brush her cheek with my fingers, and she rolls towards me, nuzzling my hand, and tucking my arm between her breasts. It’s a subconscious move, and my dick immediately responds inside my pants. I came too close to fucking her earlier; I can’t let her get under my skin because at some point, when this is all over, I need to let her go.
But this is way fucking harder than I thought it would be.
I can see the swell of her breasts through the red fabric, the mound of her pussy where the dress has gotten caught up between her legs. I could rip the dress off her and stick my tongue between her legs—it would be one way to wake her up, but that isn’t my style. I like my women conscious and willing.
“Caleb?”
The whisper barely pushes through my thoughts, and I realize that my fingers have found one of her nipples beneath the soft fabric. It automatically stiffens to my touch. “That’s it, come to me, baby.”
Maybe I drank too much in the restaurant, or maybe the adrenaline rush of protecting Victoria outside the restaurant has erased the voice of reason inside my head because, without thinking, I lean forward, so close our lips are touching. “Open up and let me in, Victoria.”
She does as she’s told and parts her lips to let me in. She tastes of the sweet wine we drank with dessert, and there’s something so heady about it, that I fill her mouth with my tongue, my fingers squeezing and flicking her nipple. Her hands slide around my neck, holding me close, her fingers dragging through my hair, and I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t for the life of me think why when it feels this goddamned good.
“The dress is coming off.”
I pull away from her long enough to unzip it at the back and drag it down over her hips, exposing her breasts, her pinkish-brown nipples, and black lace panties. I devour her with my eyes. There’s something about Victoria that is so sensual, so familiar, that it’s impossible for me to keep my hands off her.
“I could look at you all night,” I murmur, and she lets out a groan of pleasure. It’s almost like she was made for me, like I’ve been searching for her all my life without even realizing. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, mo stoirín .” My words sound husky even to me.
A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Say that again.”
I lower my face to hers and kiss the corners of her mouth. “You’re so…” I nibble her bottom lip between my front teeth. “… fucking…” I lick her lips, my hand stroking her neck. “… gorgeous…”
“And the rest.” Her eyes are glittering.
“Mo stoirín.”
Victoria arches her back, pressing her lips against mine like she can’t get enough of me, and it’s all the prompting I need to push me across the line of no return.
My hand is inside her panties, and I insert a finger into her pussy before I can stop myself. She’s warm and wet and tight, and I have a hazy vision of Sandy sprawled across the bed while I push myself into her.
Victoria groans against me, eyes closed.
I insert a second finger. “So fucking tight.” I feel her swallowing my fingers whole, and I resist the urge to open her up so that I can stick my tongue in her. Not yet. My cock is ready for her, but I want to take my time. She’s like a blank canvas just waiting for me to fill her with color.
I leave my fingers inside her while her pussy constricts and throbs around them. I suck on her nipple, nibbling and tugging until it’s pink and swollen, and Victoria responds with wetness between her legs, allowing me to push a third finger inside her. “You’re so wet.” Her body writhes and wriggles, and I hush her groans by filling her mouth with my tongue. “Are you always this wet, Victoria?”
“No,” she gasps.
Dragging my hand down her throat and between her ripe breasts, I follow it with my tongue, sucking on the underside of her breast until a faint red mark appears.
My mark.
It’s like a red rag to a bull. I want to claim her, take her in every way possible so that she knows she belongs to me. I want to leave my mark all over her so that every time I see her naked body, I’m reminded that she’s totally and irrevocably mine.
I suck on the underside of her other breast so that she has matching marks.
Victoria must realize what I’m doing because she raises her upper body onto her elbows and watches me. “Caleb, no…” She shakes her head.
I go back and kiss her, squeezing her throat gently with my free hand. Her eyes widen but not with fear. “You can’t stop me, Victoria. You trust me, don’t you?”
“But I?—”
I grip her neck a little harder and smother her mouth with mine. “Do you trust me?”
She nods. “Yes.” It’s little more than a whisper.
“Stay there.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
Her trust makes my cock throb inside my pants. She could spread her legs wide, suck me dry, and then ride me like a bucking bronco, but nothing will ever compare to knowing that she is offering her body to me with complete and utter trust.
She is mine to do with as I please, and fuck me, do I have plans for her tonight.
Still fully clothed, I slide my fingers from Victoria’s sex with a satisfying sucking sound. Standing at the end of the bed, I drink up the view of her lying on top of my comforter wearing only her panties. I pull them off her slowly, smiling to myself when I see her pussy convulsing.
I spread her legs wide and kneel between them, opening her up gently and licking the outside of her pussy, tasting her wetness. I insert my right index finger, then my left, and tease her open just wide enough to push my tongue through the middle.
“Ready?” I ask her, and she nods, her breathing shallow. “I can’t hear you. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she pants. “No. I don’t know.”
“Too late. I’m going in.”
I push my tongue all the way in, licking her taste off my fingers, and probing with the tip. She tries to move her hips out from under me, but I grip her thighs more tightly and lick until my tongue aches, and she is throbbing against my fingers. Then, I slowly slide my fingers out and hit the spot with my tongue.
This time, Victoria cries out loud. She arches her spine, gripping the pillow beneath her head with both hands like she’s clinging to a life belt.
I lick until she’s almost there, her breathing shallow, her wetness dripping from her, and then I pull out and suck on her clit until the groans are replaced by whimpers somewhere between excitement and tears. “Want me to stop?” When she pants in response, I ask again, “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stop?”
“No,” she manages.
I keep sucking until her body convulses with the power of her orgasm. Whipping my cock out of my pants, I close her legs, straddle them so that she can’t move, and slide my erection inside her. She’s wet and tight and warm, the tightness increased by the feel of my balls sitting on her closed thighs, and I want to fuck her all night like this.
I lay on top of her, supporting my upper body weight with my elbows, and stroke her hair away from her face. I kiss her, and she blinks at her own taste, but then she wraps her arms around my neck and licks her wetness from my lips like an affectionate puppy.
I allow her to have her moment before I grind my cock inside her. She gasps. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she pulls my face closer. “Caleb…”
Her kisses grow hungrier, more demanding, the harder I slam into her, and I feel my own precum mingling with her wetness. I’m not ready to come yet. “Say it.”
She blinks. “Say what?” she whispers.
“Fuck me, Caleb.”
She hesitates like she has to think about it, and I stop pounding her. I’m holding her to ransom until she tells me what I want to hear.
“Fuck me, Caleb.”
I pull out, and in one fluid movement, kneel over Victoria and flip her over, dragging her hips towards me, and pushing her head and shoulders into the pillows. With her butt in the air, I spread her pussy wide and lick her from behind, probing with one finger to bring her to a second orgasm. While she’s coming, gripping the pillows tightly with both fists, her face smothered by her hair, I rim her, keeping the orgasm flowing with my wet fingers.
Then I thrust my cock inside her sex, all the way. My balls slap wetly against her pelvis, and I slow it down. I’m still not ready to come.
Sliding my cock all the way out, I tease her pussy and butthole with the head, rubbing it around her, and pulling her hips onto me, before sliding it all the way back in. In and out. When she starts to feel dry, I lick her from behind, her pussy swollen, her orgasm still lingering like an itch that won’t be satisfied.
“Tell me you want me, Victoria.” I ram my cock back inside her, holding her hips against me so that she has to take it.
“I … want … you…”
“Louder.” I stop grinding. Hold her still so that she can feel me throbbing inside her.
“I want you.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Victoria. Tell me you want me like you mean it.”
A gurgle of laughter escapes her lips. “I want you, Caleb. I freaking want you .”
I lean over her, cupping her breasts with both hands and twisting her nipples while I ram into her from behind. She grinds her hips against me, and that’s when I allow myself to come, my entire body shuddering against her until we both collapse in a heap on the pillows.