Chapter Forty #3
I find the way to his light, and my eyes lock in on his face. When I obey, his thrusts increase in speed. “There you are. Good girl. I want to stare into those eyes as you come. No one else will have you.” Then Caleb lowers his tone. “You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust. “Say it.”
Damn, I love it when he does that. “I’m yours.”
“That’s right. And after tonight, everyone else will know it, too.”
It’s the way he talks to me. I love every dirty word that comes out of his mouth.
I love even more how it can also make me swoon.
“Don’t stop.” Each thrust is like a siren song, coaxing the orgasm out of me.
I’m drowning in the pleasure Caleb gives me.
My legs spasm with the coiled tension in every muscle.
“Come with me, Jay.”
His movements slow and semen fills my center. The pulse of his release flows through me. And my orgasm shudders through my entire body. My vaginal walls clench around him.
His gaze holds my own before he presses his forehead to my temple, panting into me as we ease down together.
He pulls out of me and rolls over next to me.
I thought he may have gone cold on me again, but not a second later, he pulls me on top of him. With his arm around me and my hand over his chest, we both stare up at the cavernous ceiling.
A thought pops into my mind.
“Wait, wait, wait. Then, that would mean . . .” His smile fades, and a light comes on as the pieces connect.
“Yep. Caleb, you are a bastard.” I study his face—he’s not upset. He’s fascinated.
There’s acceptance in his voice when he says, “Damn.” He bends an arm behind his head. “I wonder why my mother didn’t tell me.”
I shrug. “It was a different time back then.”
Time seems to slow here. I nudge myself further onto his pectorals and twirl his chest hairs in my fingers.
Caleb asks, “Do you think she was ashamed?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“No, not at all. She had a smile the whole story.”
“She did?”
I nod. “She said it was the moment she knew she loved your father.”
There’s a pause. “The moment he almost drowned?”
Caleb and I both laugh. Because it sounds ridiculous.
“No . . . She told me that after he wasn’t drowning anymore, he let her take the reins. Really and truly relied on her and let her lead. It was the first time he trusted in her—in anyone—completely. He was able to take a step back and let her be in charge.”
“I still don’t understand why you were laughing?”
I pull my lips into my mouth, trying to hide my smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Well, now you have to tell me.”
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“I could spank you until you tell me,” he threatens playfully.
I pause. “Well don’t tempt me with a good time.”
“Jay . . .” he warns.
“Fine, okay. I’ll tell you . . . At first, I thought maybe, but now I’m definitely sure.”
“About what?”
“You were conceived here.”
Caleb’s face contorts into pure horror. He runs a hand down his face as if trying to wipe it off. “I never should’ve asked.”
“Yeah . . .” I roll over onto my stomach and place my chin on his chest and grin. “Now about that spanking.”
***
“I’ve got another question,” Caleb says.
We’re heading back to the pack and satisfying our curiosities about each other. I would say we were walking, but after the vigorous spanking, it’s more of a waddle.
“Of course you do.” I laugh playfully and smile to myself.
He’s had many questions, so I’m not surprised. It doesn’t bother me. I find his interest in me entirely charming that’s why I don’t hesitate to answer every question. It’s nice that someone wants to get to know me instead of assuming they know everything about me.
“Why did you want to keep the scars? I thought they were painful memories.”
“They are but . . .” How do I say this and not sound like a crazy person? “. . .I earned them. Maybe someday I’ll cover them with tattoos, but for now, they are a piece of me. It’s something I’ve survived.”
It’s the truth. Most of it, at least.
What I don’t tell him is that it’s a masochist thing. I must want to wear my reminder of the pain I suffered because, well, it’s painful.
I know, I know, I tell my wolf. I sound ridiculous.
So I tell Caleb about my time at the Pound. Pretty much everything—at least what I can remember. The rest remains in my wolf’s secret vault of trauma.
“I’m sorry you went through that. That’s awful.”
I shrug. “It was a long time ago.”
“How did you get out? Of the Pound, I mean.”
“My Master created a monster, a true killing machine. So, when he got too busy making a buttload of money off his champion, he hired help and a bunch of newbies were sent in his place to handle me. I ran.”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen, I think.”
“Is that when you met Colin?”
“Yep. He was creepy, but he gave me purpose. One where I wasn’t just fighting to make a man rich but fighting for something greater.
He was an outcast like me, so he understood me better than anyone else at the time.
He grew the horde of rogues, and suddenly, I was fighting alongside others who shared that same purpose.
“And it was . . . nice. Like I finally belonged but didn’t belong to anyone. After being someone’s prisoner for years, I didn’t want to be ruled by anyone but me. At least not entirely.”
“How old were you when you were trafficked?”
I stop walking. “Trafficked?”
“Yeah . . . That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? They lured you in and groomed you to perform for money?”
“I guess I never put words to it like that but . . . yeah, I guess I was.” I shake the thought before I fall in too deep. Later. “You asked me something . . . What was it?”
“How old were you?”
“I think I was . . . nine? Ten? Hold on, let me think. If my birthday is in two days . . .” I talk to myself.
Caleb waves his arms in front of him. “Hold up. Your birthday is in two days?”
“Yeah, why?”