Chapter Thirteen #2
I knew morning would bring about a change in him, in the way he behaved toward me, and I wasn’t ready to accept it yet.
It was ironic because at first, I hated the dark.
I had spent so much time those first few weeks of my captivity craving the sun and the light on my face.
Suddenly, it seemed the opposite. In the dark, my master let down his guard and he was Caleb again.
He didn’t correct me. He didn’t punish me.
He didn’t push me away emotionally. Caleb was there to hold me until the nightmares passed.
He was there to tell me I was beautiful.
He was there to tell me I was going to be okay.
In the dark, he seduced me. I didn’t want the seduction to end.
I turned toward Caleb slowly, staring at his back.
I’d seen his scars before, kissed them, but Caleb had never let me study them.
With his eyes so firmly shut and him taking deep, even breaths, I took advantage of the situation to satisfy my growing curiosity.
Even in the dim light, I made out the thick lines crisscrossing his tanned skin.
They almost looked like welts, but I could tell they’d been healed for a long time.
Unable to resist, I reached out with my fingertip and traced one from his shoulder to about the middle of his back.
He groaned and shifted a little, and I withdrew my hand.
I waited a few impatient seconds to see if he woke up, and when he didn’t, I went over the same spot again.
The skin was raised by the slightest of degrees, and I marveled over how many there were.
How did you get these? My curiosity made me bolder and I pressed my palm to his skin, letting it travel the length and breadth of his back.
There were dozens of the tiny welts. Who did this to you? Is this why you’re the way you are?
Without thinking, I drew closer and pressed my lips to the ill-treated flesh.
Caleb was soft, softer than I’d expected him to be given the firmness of him.
Tiny, invisible blond hair met my lips and I smiled against his flesh.
I’d never been so close to a man as I was to Caleb.
Everything with him was a new discovery.
Granted, most things I discovered about Caleb were horrible, but sometimes… sometimes I discovered he was soft.
I lingered over his bare skin, scooting closer and enjoying him.
He never asked me to touch him anymore. I thought about the time he asked me to touch him.
I’d been hesitant at the time. I’d hated him.
I was surprised to realize I didn’t hate him so much anymore.
I felt so many things toward him, and yes, hate was perhaps among them – but there were other feelings too, far more complex than simple hate.
Caleb planned to sell me. I hated him for that.
Everything else? I was shocked to realize I could, perhaps, forgive him.
I struggled against the idea every day, at every opportunity, telling myself it would only leave me in ruins…
but my heart. My heart, independent of my logic, had reserved a place for my tormentor and my solace.
I was lost in my thoughts, stroking Caleb’s back, when he let out a gruff sigh and swatted at his shoulder, almost hitting me.
I flinched and made a startled sound. Abruptly, he turned and grabbed the hand I had used to touch him.
We stared at each other for a bit, my eyes wide and nervous, and his presumably confused and a little angry.
“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously. He held my hand as if he’d just pulled it from the proverbial cookie jar, and what could I say – I looked the part.
Brazenly, I pulled my hand free and asked, “What happened to your back?” He looked at me as if I’d said something distasteful, and then fell back against his pillow as he expelled a big yawn.
“You know, Kitten, when I first decided to call you that, I didn’t realize how aptly I’d chosen.” He read my perplexed expression and proceeded. “Curiosity killed the cat.” He smiled, but I didn’t think it was too funny.
Jokes about killing me. Yeah – not funny.
“Will you stop asking if I tell you?” He stretched. I tried not to be distracted by his nearly-naked body and the serious case of morning wood he had going.
“Why would I keep asking you if I had the answer?” I retorted and boldly smiled when he glared at me.
“The better question would be: why do I put up with you?” I knew he meant it to be banter, but all he’d done was thrust our situation into awkward focus. We both knew why he put up with me, and the answer was shitty.
I was just about to lie and tell him I wasn’t really curious, but Celia finally came into the room with breakfast. Celia – things were surprisingly not strained between us. She hadn’t been happy Caleb had used her and sent her packing, but the following morning she’d come in, business as usual.
Once, when Caleb hadn’t spent the night and therefore had not been in my room the next morning, I spoke to her again. She’d actually seemed a little frightened when I grabbed her arm and asked her just what that smile she’d given me had been about.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” she’d said, and I felt a little snotty and let her go. “He brought me here for you,” she continued. Her expression suggested I was stupid for not knowing – which apparently, I was.
“What do you mean, for me?”
“He cares for you. He cares for you the way I wish my master would care for me,” she said in an almost sad and thoughtful tone. “In a way, I was glad you were jealous – I could see it on your face. It was a nice change from being jealous of you.”
She had stunned me; I’d never considered she was jealous. I’d never considered my position to be an enviable one.
After Celia concluded her morning business, Caleb and I still lay in bed, just the two of us.
The feeling grew more and more comfortable as the days and weeks progressed.
I still hadn’t been able to convince him to let me roam the mansion, but I could go out onto the balcony if he accompanied me.
The view was breathtaking. It appeared to be the quintessential Spanish villa, surrounded by lush fields below and cactus in bloom in large ceramic pots, set on Spanish tile on an extravagant balcony.
I’d only dreamed of living places like this.
Though, in my dreams, I was never living there as a captive. Semantics.
“Breakfast on the balcony?” I asked with more enthusiasm than necessary.
He smiled. “What do you think this is, a vacation?” I felt a tight pinch in the center of my chest when he teased me. I think I’d rather come to like it. Not the teasing, but the way he smiled when he did.
“Hardly,” I said, coyly.
He stretched out again and put his hands behind his head, then looked at me disbelievingly. He had a grin playing across his lips.
“Did you…kiss me this morning?” Instant heat rose to my face, turning me what had to be at least eight different shades of red. I worked hard to resist the urge to bury my face in my pillow.
Kill me. Kill me, now!
I couldn’t even speak; I just shook my head emphatically, but the look in his eyes told me he knew I was lying.
“Yes. You did.” This time his teasing was a little painful. I was really embarrassed, and I knew he just wouldn’t let it go. Tears started to well up in my eyes.
“No, I didn’t!” I said on a rush of breath, and I felt the heat of my tears cutting across my cheek.
He rolled his eyes as he sat up. He put his finger under my chin and tilted my head upward. “Really? Tears, Kitten? You kissed me. Against my will, I might add. Shouldn’t I be the one to cry?” he asked. He laughed uproariously as I buried my face in my pillow again.
“Oh, come on!” he said in an annoyed tone and laid his face next to mine. “I’ll drop it, okay?”
Bringing my head up slowly and wiping away my tears, I whispered, “You promise?” He put his hand around my waist, pulled me close, and rolled me onto my back.
Stunned, I simply looked up at him. “Absolutely not,” he said.
Carefully, I tried to move, but his weight pinned me to the mattress.
“By now you should know I always get what I want.”
As I stared up into his enigmatic blue eyes, it was hard to ignore the sensual line of his jaw.
It showed the barest trace of his morning stubble.
His hair was ruffled from sleep, and while I thought it should make him look ridiculous, it only made him more handsome.
Caleb was a person, bed head and all. But of all the things difficult to ignore about the man on top of me, there was one that stood out…
quite literally. He was incredibly hard between my thighs.
“And what do you want?” I asked, softly.
We stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. He looked at me in a way I’d never seen before. I didn’t want to give it a name or classification. I was more than content to just have him look at me with that expression on his face.
Slowly, I brought my hands up to his face. I couldn’t help myself. Knowing how soft he could be, the urge to touch him was something I didn’t want to fight off.
He seemed taken aback by my touch, and the playful smile he held fell from his face.
Our eyes met for the briefest of moments, and my fingers sensed the gentle shake of his head just before I kissed him so hard we both made a hurt sound.
My brain fired synapses to every part of my body, and heat flooded my skin and pooled between my thighs.
His tongue begged to be allowed into my mouth and I opened up to him.
My hands weaved through his hair. He moaned into my mouth, and my hunger for him exploded from a place I had begun to suspect was there for quite some time.