Chapter 12 #2
I’m holding his mouth prisoner against mine. Not that he’s trying very hard to escape.
“Fuck, Ev.” Caleb grunts. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”
I hum. “About twenty-nine years, I suspect.”
Caleb hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me forward. We’re so close, and I can’t suppress my shiver as his cock presses against my stomach. My body is sensitive to his touch, the mere graze of his fingertips sending lightning down my spine.
“Touch me,” I beg.
Caleb shakes his head, then drops his forehead against mine. “You’re still healing.”
“I feel good.”
“Your ribs—”
“They feel great.”
I can practically feel Caleb’s disbelief. I don’t blame him. Just this morning, Doctor Greg yelled at him for touching me. He called Caleb irresponsible. He said Caleb should know better. He was being dramatic.
Caleb worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His pupils are fully dilated, only a sliver of dark brown remaining at the edges. They’re not normal. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but something is wrong with them.
I swallow. “Your eyes…”
Caleb blinks. “I told you I share a mind with my wolf. He’s quiet most of the time, content with letting me lead.” Caleb blinks again, his eyes now appearing normal. “But he’s interested in what’s happening between us.”
HPAW would have a field day with this information.
“What does that mean?” I ask. “Are you going to shift?”
“No.” Caleb smirks. “Let’s save your questions for later, yeah?” He tightens his grip on my wrists, reminding me that he’s holding them. “Don’t move.”
That’s not an easy command to follow. It grows especially hard when he drags his free hand up my torso. My skin pebbles beneath his fingers.
He takes his time feeling me, cupping my breast before changing course and touching himself. He curls his marked hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly.
“Spread your legs.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I widen my stance, trembling as he inches forward and places his length between my thighs, nestling himself against me. Is he going to fuck my thighs?
Caleb taps the outside of my leg. “Close them.”
I squeeze my legs together, trapping him between them. His length twitches.
“You’re destroying me.” He groans. He has no idea how true those words are. “You know I can’t say no to you. Rub against my cock, Ev. Show me how you’d fuck me.”
It’s damn near impossible to form words, especially when Caleb rocks himself forward. The head of his cock drags against my clit, and I rest my head against the shower wall as he fucks my thighs.
He moans, low and throaty. “You feel so good.”
One slight adjustment and he’d be inside me. That’s all it would take. Caleb isn’t going to fall prey to that, though. He’s not going to fuck me until I’m healed, which is a disappointment.
“You’re dripping all over me,” Caleb continues. “I’ve been dreaming of the day I can give myself to you. You have no idea how badly I want to be inside you.”
He quickens his pace, his thighs slapping against mine.
“I want you.” I shift, angling myself so it’s easier for him to slip inside.
I’m so fucking turned on, my arousal covering every inch of him. There won’t be any resistance. Despite his size, my body will welcome him right on in. We were made for one another, after all.
Caleb laughs, fucking laughs, and presses me against the wall. He avoids applying pressure to my injuries, the heel of his palm pressed below my belly button and his fingers resting just below my ribcage.
I’m flattered by the consideration, but I don’t let the emotion burrow too deep in my heart. I’m not here to fall in love.
“Caleb!” I whine.
He chuckles again. “Shifters can be rough. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Caleb has already proven he won’t hurt me, and I’m nervous we won’t have time to have sex before I’ve gotten the information I need from him. It’ll be weeks before my ribcage is fully healed. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have the information I need long before that.
He’ll be dead before sex is even on the table.
“It’s not going to happen.” Caleb looks down, watching himself disappear between my thighs. “It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. You’re too important.”
I’m tempted to spread my legs and ruin his friction. It’s a petty thought, one I already know I won’t follow through on.
“Do you like my cock?” Caleb asks.
I can feel him looking at me, but I avert my eyes. I stare down instead, unable to look away as he grabs the base of his shaft and removes himself from between my thighs. He has a nice cock. It’s perfect, just like the rest of him.
“Well?” Caleb taunts. “Do you like your mate’s cock?”
“You know I do.”
“Good.” Caleb hums, seeming all too pleased with himself, and presses himself back between my thighs. “Are you going to cum on it?”
“I sure fucking hope so.”
His blunt tip rubs against my entrance, just barely catching it with each thrust. Paired with the drag of his shaft against my clit, it all has me steamrolling toward orgasm.
I hold Caleb’s shoulders. “Don’t stop.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, his body tensing. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He’s trying to hold back his moans, but he’s failing. The deep, fevered grunts are pouring from his throat with every thrust. I love the effect I have on him. I love being the reason he’s going to cum.
I’m the only person who can make him feel like this. No other woman will know what he sounds or looks like when he cums.
He’s mine.
My needy claim is unexpected, but my orgasm ripping through me overshadows my shock. I dig my nails into his shoulders so hard, I’m sure he’ll be left with tiny crescent indents.
Caleb is everywhere, the shifter infiltrating my every sense. He’s all I can see, all I can hear, all I can fucking feel and taste. For a brief moment, as my orgasm crests, he’s everything.
He steps back as my pleasure subsides, his fist curling once more around the base of his shaft. “Spread your legs,” he orders. I don’t hesitate to do so. Caleb’s demands continue. “Spread your pussy, Evelyn.”
He’s trying to kill me. Still, I do as he asks without complaint. I act on autopilot, dropping a hand between my thighs and spreading myself. I want to do it. I want to please Caleb.
In this moment, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.
Caleb surges forward, notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. He doesn’t push inside, and my knees tremble as he strokes himself once and begins to cum. The low groan that tumbles from his throat is forever seared into my mind, along with the image of him finishing inside me.
His cum immediately dribbles back out, gravity working against us.
Caleb strokes until he’s fully emptied. I struggle to catch my breath. My ribs hurt, but Doctor Greg told me it’s good to breathe deeply. It helps clear mucus and prevent infection.
“We probably shouldn’t do that again…” I eventually say, gesturing to the cum.
Caleb shrugs, dragging his fingertips along my thighs before easing the tip of one of his cum-soaked fingers inside me. “You aren’t ovulating.”
“How do you know that?”
“Shifters can smell the luteinizing hormone.”
I pause. “What is that?”
“It’s a hormone that surges right before the ovary releases an egg.”
My mate is a period tracker.
“We should still be careful,” I say. “I’m not ready for a baby.”
Caleb blows out a slow, controlled breath, then nods. “I understand. It won’t happen again.”
That’s it? He’s not going to push? HPAW told me that shifters are eager to have children. They suggested that if I’m struggling to earn Caleb’s trust, I should encourage him to impregnate me. It never occurred to me that Caleb would so readily accept my rejection of the idea.
Caleb continually shocks me.
“Can I sleep in bed with you tonight?” he asks.
He turns off the shower and opens the glass door, letting the heat out. I shiver, goosebumps pebbling up along my exposed skin. Caleb hands me the closest towel, then braves the cold as he walks across the bathroom to grab another from the cabinet.
It’s a small action, but one I notice.
“I’ll be careful not to crush you.” He grimaces. “Again.”
Do I want to share a bed with Caleb? The bond screams for me to say yes, to invite him to spend every night by my side for the rest of our lives.
The rational part of me knows it’s a bad idea and a slippery slope.
Still, I have a role to play. Caleb needs to believe I’m getting close to him, that I’m falling in love with him.
I was hoping intimacy would draw him in, and it seems my assumption was correct. He’s lowered his guard. He wants to be closer to me.
“Yes,” I say. “I want to share a bed with you.”
Caleb smiles, his expression soft as I dry myself. His smile shifts as he eyes my naked form, the bright bathroom light hiding nothing. I’m covered in hundreds of tiny scars from years of training with HPAW, but I see each white spot and slash as a victory.
I grew stronger every time I was hurt, and my body lives to tell the story.
Caleb traces a longer gash along my hip. “What happened here?”
“I fell out of a tree.” I’ve rehearsed a lie for every single scar.
Caleb doesn’t immediately respond, and after a second, I touch one of his scars. It’s thin and impossible to notice unless you look closely. The small, white slash is about an inch above his left nipple, and it runs almost to his armpit.
He tenses as I run my finger along it.
“What happened here?” I copy his question.
“I fell out of a tree.”
Oh. I drop my hand, forcing an easy smile on my face. Caleb knows I was lying about my scar, and this is his subtle way of letting me know. The silence between us stretches, neither of us seeming particularly keen to be the first to break it.
Caleb isn’t pushing for the truth, but it’s not a good sign that he could tell I was lying. It was a smooth lie, one that slipped off my tongue with ease. Caleb is learning my tells.
I’m running out of time.