Chapter 7 #3
“Coming,” I rasped, my orgasm boiling up.
Then I was shuddering, my release pumping down his throat as pleasure roared through me.
He gagged, and I withdrew enough to let him swallow, dark satisfaction burning in my chest as he gulped me down.
When I eased my spent dick from between his plush lips, a line of cum dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
In one swift movement, I hauled him up and plunked his ass on the desk. Shock flared in his eyes as I yanked his T-shirt over his head.
“What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” I bent and pulled off his shoes.
I gave his jeans and underwear the same treatment, then wedged my hips between his thighs and forced him onto his back with a flat hand on his chest. I kept it there as I used my other hand to lift his knees one by one.
“Heels flat on the desk. Spread your legs.”
He complied with a needy moan that made my dick tighten all over again.
He looked absolutely debauched with his bare, reddened ass plastered to Welch’s planner, his thighs flung wide, and his tight, pink hole on display.
His cock lay swollen and heavy on his stomach, his slit drooling.
His white mid-calf socks added an extra layer of depravity, which only spurred my lust higher.
“Stroke yourself,” I said, “but don’t come yet. Understand?” At his shaky nod, I sucked my first two fingers into my mouth. His breath hitched when I carried them to his cleft, and he moaned loudly when I pressed them firmly to his hole.
“You have to be quiet,” I said, moving my other hand to his mouth. I held it there as I fingered him, stroking and teasing.
His hole fluttered, and he moaned behind my hand. He reached down and grasped his dick, his eyes rolling back as he began to stroke himself.
“Good boy,” I said, pushing a finger inside him.
His ass clamped around me, his passage so hot and tight I was tempted to stop everything so I could take him home and fuck him properly.
But who was I kidding? I wouldn’t make it that far.
And I couldn’t fuck him on the side of the road in broad daylight with no prep and nothing but spit for lube.
No, the first time I took him to bed, I was going to make sure it was perfect for him.
I pushed my finger deep, grazing his gland as I watched his hand work up and down his dick.
I kept my other hand tight over his mouth, every muffled cry and whimper sexier than the last. After a second, I pulled my finger from his ass, leaned down, and spit on his hole.
The little pink mouth gasped, winking and squeezing, and I bit back a curse as I worked the moisture inside with my finger.
Caleb shuddered, his labored breaths hot against my hand.
“You feel so good,” I said, pushing my spit deeper inside him. When the ring of muscle relaxed, I added another finger and gave his ass slow, thorough pumps.
He spread his legs wider and moaned, jerking his dick faster. Precum glossed his cockhead. His ass strangled my fingers, the muscle clamping like a fist.
“That’s it,” I said, staring into his lust-drunk eyes. “Stroke yourself. Show me how you like to be touched.”
His thick eyelashes swept his cheeks as he worked his dick, swiping his hand over his cockhead and slicking precum up and down his shaft.
“Stop,” I ordered. When he whimpered and obeyed, I leaned over and let a trail of saliva drizzle onto his tip. We both moaned as it slid down his length and soaked his fingers. “Good boy,” I said, hearing the gravel in my voice. “Keep going.”
He went back to pumping his dick, his shaft glistening with spit and arousal. His moans behind my palm grew more desperate. His blue eyes pleaded with me as he lifted his head from the desk and then thunked it back down.
I rubbed his prostate and leaned over him. “Do you want to come?”
“Uh-hnn,” he said against my fingers, his strokes faltering as he clearly fought to stave off his release.
“Do it,” I said, and I finger-fucked his ass, grazing his prostate over and over. He gave himself half a dozen more frantic pumps and then shouted against my hand as he spurted over his fingers.
I took him through it, my palm clamped hard against his mouth. Then I yanked him up and into a kiss every bit as breathless and messy as we were. I tasted my cum on his lips as he lifted tentative arms and then slid them around my neck, returning the kiss.
After a minute, I eased back. He stared at me with clear blue eyes and swollen lips. Sunlight from the tall windows caught the hint of golden stubble on his jaw.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Better.” He blinked, seemingly startled by the admission. “A lot better, actually. I haven’t felt this good in…a while.”
I pushed a wave of blond hair off his forehead. “Your wolf is settled. Without your beast influencing your mind, you can relax.”
He shook his head, a humorless-sounding huff escaping him. “Man, this is so weird.”
“But you believe it now, right?” I put a palm on one plump pec. “You admit you’ve been turned?”
“Yeah,” he rasped, swallowing thickly. “I’m good at denial, but I can’t afford to be that dumb.”
I drew my thumb over his full bottom lip that was most definitely going to drive me crazy. “You’re not dumb. I know the kinds of challenges you’ve overcome. Don’t downplay your accomplishments.”
“Or what, you’ll spank me again?”
He’d probably meant it as a bit of bravado, but the husky note in his voice betrayed him. Of course, he’d given himself away the second he dropped to his knees, submission in every line of his body.
“Any time you need it,” I said, fighting the urge to kiss him again.
As pink dusted his cheekbones, I tucked my dick away and zipped my jeans.
Then I found tissues in Welch’s desk and thrust a handful at Caleb.
He cleaned himself up and dressed quickly, stealing glances at me from under his lashes.
When he pulled his T-shirt over his head, I nodded toward the door.
“We should leave separately. My car is behind the football stadium. Meet me there, and we’ll go straight to my place.”
He stiffened, his forehead creasing. “What about school? I have one more semester until graduation. I can’t quit.”
“Who said anything about quitting?”
“My parents will notice if I don’t come home. They don’t give a shi— crap about me, but they love controlling my life. They’ll report me missing. I can’t just disappear without telling them.”
His football coach’s filing cabinet had contained a lot more than just training stats.
I’d read Caleb’s file front to back. But even a cursory read made it clear his parents were irredeemable assholes.
They’d waged a long and stupid battle with the state to continue homeschooling him even when his test scores showed he was several grade levels behind his peers.
It was a testament to Caleb’s intelligence that he’d caught up with just one year of remedial instruction.
He must have interpreted my silence as refusal because he lifted his chin. “You’re a teacher, right? I wouldn’t put it past my mother to accuse you of kidnapping me. You really want the cops showing up to your house? At the very least, my parents will make your life difficult.”
Just what kind of garbage had they put him through? His posture was beyond stiff now, like a single touch might shatter him.
“I haven’t taught in a while,” I said. “I’m not worried about my reputation.”
His gaze sharpened. “How long is a while?”
We both knew what he was asking—and I wasn’t quite ready to give him the answer.
He was just coming around to the idea that he’d been turned into a supernatural creature most of the population considered a myth.
His wolf was calm, and his human side was firmly in charge.
For his sake, it needed to stay that way.
I put my ball cap on and pulled it low over my eyes. “A few years. And I don’t live on a teacher’s salary these days. I can help you finish school, and I’ll replace the clothes and other things from your parents’ place.”
His features settled into a stubborn expression that was quickly becoming familiar.
“Some of my things are irreplaceable. My grandmother passed about a year ago. She and I were close. She gave me money over the years, along with some books and a few of my grandpa’s sweaters.
I can’t leave that stuff behind. And even if I could, I want to tell my parents where I’m going.
” His mouth tightened. “I don’t want to live my life looking over my shoulder.
If I’m going to leave, I want it to be a clean break. ”
My wolf stirred in my chest, its displeasure radiating through me.
But my human side acknowledged that Caleb had a point.
It would be a lot easier to ease him into his new life if he didn’t have to worry about his parents trying to drag him back into his old one.
And I couldn’t ask him to abandon the sentimental items his grandmother had given him.
“What time will your parents get home tonight?” I asked.
“No later than four-thirty. They both leave the office early on Fridays.”
I glanced at my watch. It was approaching eleven. He could handle five hours away from my wolf’s influence. “I’ll park at the end of your street. If you start to feel angry when you talk to your parents, you leave immediately. Don’t worry about your belongings. Just come find me, understand?”
Relief shimmered in his eyes. “Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in it.”
His face fell, and then his voice went gruff. “I…uh, lost it.”
My wolf stirred again. “You lost it,” I said flatly.
The stubborn look returned. “Not on purpose. I think it happened during the fight with Cross.”
With a sigh, I dug in Welch’s top drawer and pulled out a pen. “Here,” I said, “give me your hand.” When Caleb complied, I wrote my cell number across his palm. I met his eyes, which swam with renewed desire. “I want you to check in once an hour. You have a landline at the house, yes?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
I stepped into him, grasped his nape, and kissed him.
He moaned and worked his tongue against mine, pushing back just enough to hint at a battle for control.
I squeezed his neck and plunged my tongue deeper.
He capitulated with a groan, his head going back as he opened wider.
When I finally pulled away, we were both breathing heavily.
“Four-thirty,” I said. “And you call me at the top of the hour every hour.”
His eyes glinted. “And if I don’t?”
I tilted my head. “Do you really want to find out?”
A beat passed. He touched the tip of his tongue to his lower lip, the flash of pink doing absolutely nothing for my self-control. “Maybe,” he said huskily.
I let my wolf rise just enough to make my eyes glow. His breath caught.
“Four-thirty,” I said again, softer this time.
His throat bobbed, and he dropped his eyes. “Four-thirty.”