Chapter 8 #2
He positioned himself between her legs again and felt at the juncture between her thighs, his hands brushing over her pussy.
Kelly moaned and pumped her hips when he pressed his fingertips into her clit, and she continued moving her pelvis so that he couldn’t explore much farther. “Please. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue sliding along the line of her lips. And Kelly suddenly wanted to gag. He was a good kisser. An excellent kisser. His body was attractive, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
But all she could think about was her father’s face, that day they’d been hiking in the woods. She’d never seen him again, not alive anyway, and Caleb was responsible for that.
Pulling out of the kiss again, Kelly whimpered. Hopefully it would sound like pleasure more than reluctance.
“You want this?”
She’d already answered that damned question. More than once. Why wouldn’t he just shut up and fuck her?
“Yeah,” she whispered. Then, needing to distance herself in any way she could, she started to roll over onto her stomach, deciding rear entry would be easier psychologically and thus be much more comfortable. She wouldn’t have to look at his face.
But Caleb stopped her before she could turn over, holding his hands on her shoulders. “Kelly?”
Swallowing hard, she tilted onto her side again and murmured, “I was going to let you…”
“No,” he replied softly, pushing her down onto her back with the position of his body. Then he brought his hands down to part her legs and line up his cock at her entrance. “This is good.”
With a sigh, Kelly submitted to the position and clutched at his shoulders. Forced her muscles to relax. Then closed her eyes and jerked her head to the side as Caleb started to sink inside her.
It wasn’t uncomfortable. She was somewhat aroused, and the condom was lubed. The substance of his cock pushed into her easily, and her body automatically accommodated itself to his size.
But she had a hard time distancing herself appropriately.
She’d never been a big fan of missionary since the man fucking her was right there, right in her face, and touching her everywhere. In her plans for this moment, Caleb had always been taking her from behind in a way that wouldn’t demand of her to think of him as a man. This… was more difficult.
She moaned again, because she knew she needed to keep up her performance, but she mostly concentrated on breathing deeply and keeping her stomach from churning.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, his mouth so close to her skin that his breath wafted across the side of her face.
She hated the sound of the raspy exclamation, but it was a good sign. He liked how she felt. So, remembering the details she’d planned earlier, Kelly started writhing beneath him, bucking up her hips as if she were desperate for the stroke of his cock. “Caleb,” she panted. “Caleb, please.”
He made a strange grunt and held himself perfectly still. And she knew he was staring at her face or her body because she could feel his eyes burning into her skin.
She arched up and then wrapped her legs around him in a way she knew men really enjoyed. She squeezed her muscles as she thrust her pelvis, riding him from below.
Caleb groaned again—long, low, and desperate. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
She opened her eyes at that, felt like she had to. This was important. She needed to appear more enthusiastic. She kept her voice husky and overwhelmed as she whispered, “So are you.” She bucked up erratically a few times. “Please, Caleb, fuck me.”
He straightened his arms, raising his upper body higher—a move that Kelly greatly appreciated.
He was farther away. She couldn’t feel his breath or see the little lines beside his mouth and eyes.
She breathed a little easier and stretched with a lingering groan, partly for effect and partly to clear the remnants of her panic.
Caleb pulled his pelvis back, until just the tip of his cock was left in her body. The muscles in his arm rippling tightly, he thrust back into her, levering his hips up as he drove forward.
Under different circumstances, Kelly probably could have enjoyed it, but there was absolutely no way she was going to reach orgasm tonight. But she knew how to act. She arched back her neck and gasped loudly at the stroke of his cock.
He pulled back again. Thrust forward. Levered up. Kelly dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his biceps as if she were clutching at him in urgent response.
She continued moving her body restlessly, squirming beneath him, pumping up against his thrusts, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow. But she kept her vocal response intentionally subdued.
Caleb wouldn’t be convinced by screams and howls of pleasure.
So Kelly bit her lip as if she were trying to contain her response to the sensations he was generating.
As he fucked her, she twisted her face more and more.
It probably looked like pleasure—she was pretty confident that it would—but it was mostly part of the performance, and a little bit from the horrifying realization that this was Caleb Marshall inside her.
The same Caleb Marshall who had killed her father.
After a few minutes of his slow, steady strokes—strong, controlled, and designed to give pleasure—Kelly made a stifled mewling sound and tightened her thighs around his hips.
Deciding she had looked up at him for long enough, she turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes closed, contorting her face as she whimpered again.
“Kelly,” he said roughly.
She didn’t know what he wanted but hoped he was just checking for her reaction. “Yeah?” she gasped, biting down hard on her lip.
“Can you come?” His arms were still tense and straight, providing a strategic angle for him to drive into her. She knew his restraint must be weakening because his body was trembling with strain and heat. She wasn’t watching him, but she could feel his response just the same.
“Yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “Think so.” She rocked beneath him, moving easily with his rhythm and accelerating with him as his thrusts became shorter and faster. “Yeah,” she rasped in response to his faster motion. “Good. Faster. Caleb.”
She didn’t want to extend this any longer than necessary. Things were going all right for now, but it could fall apart at any moment.
And she really wanted to get him out of her body.
Caleb released a hoarse groan and panted heavily as he pumped into her, his cock sliding slickly in her tightened channel with a tempo that was growing more uncontrolled.
She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him.
His hard flesh inside her, his firm ass beneath her heels, the heat of his body radiating out to her bare skin.
She wasn’t close to coming. Didn’t even feel very much. But it wasn’t physically uncomfortable, and she didn’t have to look at him now.
He wasn’t that much different than any other man.
Deciding it had been long enough for an orgasm to be realistic, she started to jerk her body erratically beneath him.
“Yeah,” she gasped, tilting her head back.
“Yeah, yeah.” Then she slid a hand down between their bodies.
There was just enough room, since he was holding his body off hers, for her to rub at her clit.
Twisting her face into a tight mask, she whimpered one last time. Then, with a few more jerks of her hips, she let out a frantic, little sob. She convulsed beneath him, tightening her thighs and her inner muscles around him.
She clamped down around his cock as hard as she could, and she heard him release a burst of uncontrolled sound. Then, with his whole body tensed up so rigidly she could feel it even without her eyes open, he gave a few last pushes into her clenched muscles and released a smothered shout.
And he was coming—above her, inside her, around her—his body an unleashed coil.
They were both gasping as his spasms finally faded. Kelly made sure her body twitched occasionally, and she forced herself to relax completely as if in the aftermath of pleasure.
But, before she could figure out the best way to handle the afterward, Caleb’s elbows buckled, and his weight pressed down on her, warm, sated, damp, and heavy.
And it was appalling. The worst part of the entire experience.
Worse than his kisses. Worse than his possessive, exposing gaze. Worse than his thrustings or his mouth on her breast or his hands moving all over her flesh.
Something was utterly unspeakable about his relaxed, satisfied body on top of her. Kelly tried to think rationally. Tried to plan her strategy, making use of the way he had obviously taken pleasure in her.
But instead, she thought of her father.
Pictured her father’s face when he smiled. When he laughed. When he hugged her. When he’d been hiking with her that morning.
She thought about how her father’s little girl had just willfully fucked his murderer.
He was on top of her. All over her. Feeling like a sweltering, inescapable weight. His cock was softening inside her, and his face was buried in her hair. He was panting. She thought she could even feel his heart beating.
Kelly started to gag. She swallowed over it. Unthinkingly, she pushed at Caleb’s shoulders until he pulled out and rolled off her. She had just enough sense to stretch and breathe out, “God, that was good,” as she got more distance from him.
Her head turned away from him, she took deep breaths until the flurry of emotional reaction subsided.
What the hell was the matter with her?
Yes, it had been hard, but she could do this. She wasn’t weak, and he wasn’t going to get away with what he’d done.
Women throughout history had done this very thing. Slept with their enemies. Sometimes constructing elaborate deceptions. Some of which lasted their whole lives. It was possible. There were dozens of precedents she could name.
She could do this too. She just needed to harden herself a little more.
He had lied to the world, so she would lie to him.
He’d manipulated others, so she would manipulate him.
He thought he was untouchable, so she would make sure he was touched.
If she had to turn into Caleb to beat him, then she could do that.
She would do that.
“You okay?” he asked from beside her.
When she turned back, she saw that he’d taken care of the condom and was now watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
She smiled. “Yeah. Seconds usually aren’t that good.” She reached over to brush her fingers over his chest. “Even with a concussion.”
“Damn,” he breathed, his expression changing. “I forgot about the concussion. I thought you seemed a little?—”
A flare of panic caused her skin to chill briefly, the fear that she hadn’t deceived him enough. “I seemed what? I thought it was pretty good.”
“It was.” He gave her his familiar, sexy smile. “I wasn’t complaining. Something just felt slightly off, and now it makes sense. The doctor told you to rest, and I’m not sure that counts as resting.”
She laughed softly, disturbingly aware that her amusement over his dry tone and ironic expression was real. “Not exactly resting, no. Although honestly I expected something a little less vanilla from you.”
That got a reaction. He arched his eyebrows. “Vanilla?”
“Missionary under the covers?” She leveled him an obvious, teasing challenge with her gaze. “I expected more from you. What happened to your basement of pleasurable torment?”
He laughed, his eyes warm and appreciative, lingering on her face and naked body. “I told you that was only if you asked very nicely.”
Her breath hitched at the husky texture of his voice. She wasn’t going to be upset by this. It was good. It meant he was still interested. He had to keep wanting her, or she would lose her excuse for staying close to him.
“Hmm.” She turned on her side so she was facing him. “Somehow I think you’re the one who’s going to have to ask nicely.”
Her half-seductive, half-challenging tone must have been effective because he was suddenly on top of her, his body big and far too warm, his hand cupping her face. “Little Blossom, I guarantee you’re the one who’s going to be begging for it.”
She forced herself not to roll away from him to hide her reaction, to rehearse all the reasons she had to hate him.
“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.
“I’ll like it even more when you’re the one who’s begging.”
He was so close his soft laughter wafted against her skin.
She’d almost fallen apart earlier. Tonight had been a minor defeat, but it was not the end of the war.
So Kelly started to harden herself again, preparing herself for what would come next, for what the next days and weeks would hold for her.
She would have to fuck him again and again. She would have to get him to trust her. She would have to convince him to let down his guard enough so she could find and reveal his dark secrets. She would have to make sure she was never this weak again.
There was a truth that the soldiers she’d fucked always told her about going to battle.
The first time was always the worst.