34. Celeste
Chapter 34
Celeste
I cling to him, practically asleep after the longest ride from work ever. The physical and emotional exhaustion coils around my bones. It also fills the air between us, like we both need to sleep off the past few months and wake up to a new beginning.
Or at least this new understanding between us. As I inhale the scent of him, I feel lighter and heavier at the same time.
Cal kisses the crown of my head. It seems like an automatic gesture, but it sets my heart fluttering every single time.
“Je suis tout à toi.”
He groans and dips his head deeper, trailing my cheek and the side of my neck with his nose languidly.
I know I haven’t told him I’m his in English yet, and that’s what he wants to hear so much. I’ll tell him in the bedroom.
Oh God, I hope we’re heading to his bedroom. Or mine. It doesn’t matter, as long as he takes me to a bed. That’s what he meant when he said he’s demolishing his walls.
“Are you okay?”
Can he read my thoughts now? “Yes, just really tired.”
We get off the elevator and step into the dark apartment, the only source of light coming from the dim spotlights around the floor. I shake off my shoes and walk to the kitchen, Caleb on my heels.
We drink water in a companionable silence in the kitchen before we make our way upstairs. I’m barely standing on my feet, exhaustion seeping into every part of my being.
He walks behind me but before I veer toward my room, he grabs my wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
My mind is buzzing with a latent headache, and it takes me an unreasonable amount of time to turn to face him. Or at least it feels like that, while the world swirls with me in my subtle motion.
What if everything changes once we share a bed? What if we don’t enjoy the normal, so used to the wild and reckless way we usually have sex? Or worse, what if he realizes he doesn’t like me in his private, intimate space and moves on?
He frowns and steps closer, crowding me against the wall. His breath fans my face. “What is it, black swan? Having second thoughts already? This isn’t going to work if we both lean into fear.”
Fuck, the man does read me already. But he’s right. A part of me has this perverse need to discuss all the possible scenarios up front, so I can be ready for what might happen.
There is a much bigger part of me that recognizes that’s not how life is lived. That I can’t control the next minute.
But I can choose to enjoy it.
I can choose to believe in us.
So I choose.
He steps back, holding his hand out for me, and I take it. He kisses my knuckles and pulls me toward his bedroom.
He opens the door to what has been a secret chamber until now, and we step onto plush carpet.
“Cal…” Fuck, this can’t be our first proper night. “I don’t think—”
“Hush.” He puts his index finger on my lips. “Let’s just sleep.”
He walks toward a dresser, taking off his cufflinks. He drops them into a mess of other personal items.
The room is sleek and modern, an elegant space like his entire house. Crisp white walls contrast with the dark accents and the chocolate-colored deep-pile carpet.
Draped in shades of brown, his bed is enormous, its masculinity softened with a casually strewn white throw.
A glass-walled bathroom in the corner draws my eyes. Why doesn’t it surprise me that a man with a flair for exhibitionism has a glass shower as a key feature of his personal space?
I smile as a vision of his naked form there invades my imagination. That would be a sight to wake up to for sure.
Unsure what to do, I take a few steps in. My gaze travels to the artwork above his bed, and I’m thrown back to the memory of his first visit to my apartment.
The first originals of Andrea Cassinetti cover most of the wall in an asymmetrical pattern.
That series included a set number of drawings, and it seems only one is missing. The one I own.
My heart loses its rhythm and beats to the chaotic cries of my emotions. Part of my decor is missing from his personal space. The coincidence flutters in my stomach, tickling me with warmth.
“I don’t think you should sleep in your dress.” He breathes by my ear, startling me .
I pivot to face him. “I’m in your bedroom.”
Making a sound that might be a grunt or a snicker, he snakes his arm around my waist and yanks me to him. “Don’t make a fucking big deal about it.”
Is there color in his cheeks? It is a fucking big deal, but I’m not going to argue that now. We’re both tired, but we’re both here. The significance of this step drapes around my shoulders like a veil of both dread and excitement.
“Do you need anything from your room?” He pulls at the string that holds my dress closed.
While I was studying his room, he stripped down to his boxers.
Fuck, he looks good. I step back to admire the perfect triangle of his torso. Our affair has been a series of stolen, passionate moments, or me ogling him in secret.
I take my time, tracing my fingers along his biceps while my gaze travels in appreciation.
He pushes the dress off my shoulders and it pools at my feet. We stand there for several heated seconds.
For once we’re not rushing, the fiery passion replaced by something more potent. By intimacy that runs deeper than physical need.
“I’ll go get my nightie.” The words barely pass around the lump in my throat. I don’t know why or when it got lodged there .
He unclasps my bra. “Do you need it?”
With one hand, he cups my breast gently, his finger brushing my nipple while he hooks his other hand into my panties.
“I can never fall asleep naked.”
Maybe it’s left over from the years when I covered my body because I hated it, or perhaps it’s just a habit, but I certainly hate sleeping with all my curves and folds exposed.
Caleb squats and takes my underwear with him. He helps me step out of it and then shocks me when he leans in and kisses me between my legs.
It’s a reverent kiss. A worshipping one. Just a brief touch of his lips before he stands up. The gesture steals my breath, and feelings I’ve never felt spread in my chest.
He gives my lips the same quick but adoring peck. “There’s a first time for everything. Let’s go to sleep.”
I don’t know if he’s talking about having a woman in his bed or me sleeping naked, but it doesn’t matter, because the amount of firsts tonight marks is overwhelming, regardless.
He hauls me into his arms bridal-style and carries me to his bed.
“Stop it, I’m heavy.”
“I disagree.” He throws it out there casually, but strictly enough for me to reconsider any comeback. And what would I even argue? This man has only made me feel beautiful and desired.
After he slides beside me, he covers us both, positions me with my back to him and wraps his arm and leg around me.
I’m in Caleb van den Linden’s bed. Probably the first woman to do so. The event is significant by itself, but it feels unique because we just lie here.
The remnants of the day rendered us motionless. Or perhaps the intimacy is too much for both of us to act on it.
Or I’m overthinking it because we’re exhausted and should sleep.
But we don’t. Sleep is eluding us. I wiggle and turn in his arms, facing him.
Caleb sighs.
“I can go and sleep in my room.”
It would hurt, but it wouldn’t at the same time. Who says we need to jump into everything tonight? We can build up to this real couple thing slowly. We’ve done it all backward, anyway.
“Don’t you dare. I didn’t just break my lifelong habit for a few moments with you here.”
“But you can’t sleep.”
The room is almost completely dark, his face in shadows and still the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen .
“I’m savoring,” he whispers, tucking a strand behind my ear. “Now stop talking and get some rest. This bed and my cock need to see some action soon, black swan.”
A gentle stream of water infiltrates my foggy, sleepy mind. I stretch my arms, my fingertips brushing unfamiliar fabric.
Yesterday’s events flicker through my mind, and I snap my eyes open. And the sight is fucking breathtaking.
My gaze lands on my husband’s penis behind the glass, explaining the sound of water. Caleb stands under a waterfall in his shower, his arms braced on the glass wall and his head down.
Every single sinew, cord and muscle is on display. The whole image is a reward wrapped in sin. And then he lifts his head and looks at me. Scorches me with his eyes.
Oh my God, it’s a good thing he never brings women into this space, because the amount of swooning might have detrimental health implications. That glass shower is God’s gift to women. No, no, the current occupant is.
My heart rate spikes, and my pussy clenches. Caleb smirks and fists his cock, giving it an aggressive tug.
I rub my thighs together, kind of grateful I’m under the sheets, because my visceral reaction is mildly embarrassing, and there’s no bloody way I’m allowing him to see the amount of power he has over me.
We might have crossed the invisible border into a committed relationship, but I can’t hand all the control to him.
That thought evaporates into nothing when he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. Bringing with him the scent of his soap, and something so carnal I almost whimper, he rounds the bed, devouring me with his eyes.
“Good morning, black swan, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he drawls, not in the least sorry that he did.
But neither am I. “Good morning. Careful there with that package.” I beckon my head to arguably the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. How does he even fit that thing inside me?
Wet as he is, he jumps into bed and somehow pulls the covers from me. “You be carefully reckless with it, darling wife.”
“You’re soaking the sheets.”
He flicks his finger through my folds. “Soaked is what I’m after.” He winks, a satisfied smirk on his face.
I giggle but yelp as he flips me around. In one swift move, he positions me on top of him, straddling him as he grips my hips.
I freeze. I’m okay with my body, but this is my least favorite position, because it usually gets me thinking about all the extra folds plainly on display.
We fucked like this before, but it was always when I was fairly dressed.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I don’t know if his words are a response to my hesitation, but they come out with such conviction and honesty, I abandon my stupid notions.
I am fucking beautiful.
I reach between us and lift my hips, guiding him to my entrance. When an inch of him teases inside me, I pause. “We’ve never done this.”
He studies me for a moment, his breath labored. “I’m glad I saved my bed for you.”
Oh, fuck, that too. “I mean, no condoms.”
His eyebrows jerk up. It’s a slight jolt of surprise, but it’s there. Like he’s been reckless but never once unprotected.
“I’m clean and on the shot.” I sink my hips lower and we both moan.
“How do you know I’m clean?”
I shrug. “I trust you, pretty boy.”
A flicker of something dark flashes through his face, and he thrusts up and sheathes himself inside me, filling me, and drawing a deep guttural moan from me.
I circle my hips to adjust to him and start moving languidly. Our eyes locked, this feels the same, and dramatically different from any other time.
It might be the novelty of the environment, the newly forged trust between us, or just the lingering exhaustion from yesterday.
Whatever the reason, the result is cathartic. Transforming. Magnificent.
My orgasm builds and comes crashing down, faster and harder than ever before. Caleb cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him, seizing my lips in a punishing kiss. “That’s my girl.”
I don’t have a chance to marvel in my high before he flips us, hikes my hips and drives into me again with such force, I leap forward on the mattress.
“Hands on the headboard,” he growls, and I scramble to oblige without a thought.
Because there is no thinking this morning. There is only feeling.
Feeling adored.
Feeling safe.
Feeling ecstatic.
Feeling possessed by this man. Belonging to him. Loving him.
Pounding into me like he can’t get enough, like he needs to punish and reward me at the same time, Caleb pulls at my hair.
In the haze of my first orgasm, and the desire raking through my body and pooling in my core, my mind registers his voice, and a question that hits me raw and honest.
“Who do you belong to, black swan?”