Chapter Seventeen #2
She could see him pacing, his face the embodiment of fury, as she fought to get air into her body.
He was practically crackling by the time she was done.
She had to stand up straight, and try to seem like someone who was not currently going through some deep emotional revelations about their relationship.
Just business, she told herself. Just business.
But then he said, “I am not going back there, and you cannot persuade me to, Emmett. Her questions were too personal, and she was too familiar, and then they started asking if you could come out and give me a hug because I guess I seemed perfectly normal, actually, and then I don’t know what happened. I had to go.”
And he did it all in a big, garbled rush. His hands went into his hair.
And she just couldn’t be businesslike. She didn’t want to say, But you were fine with personal questions before, or We’ve hugged onstage, we could have easily done that. She wanted to reassure him. She just wanted to reassure him.
“Hey, hey, hey. Hey, easy. Easy. It’s okay. It’s all right, nobody is going to force you to do anything. If you want to go you can go; I’ll make excuses, it’ll be fine. Look at me, it’s fine,” she said, all nice and calm about it.
She just didn’t realize that she was touching him when she did.
On his face. Her hand was on his face. Like the night before.
And his reaction told her that said hand had definitely been a part of the problem.
He went almost rigid again. It’s affection, it’s being too real about all of this, that’s what he’s struggling with.
Doesn’t matter if he had a whole orgasm while it was happening—like he said, you can be excited and still not want something, she thought, and that seemed to make sense. Especially when he spoke.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
So now she had to make it seem normal before he started thinking she was trying to push him into something he didn’t want.
“Nothing. Calming you down.”
“Your hand is on my face.”
“Only a little.”
“The other is rubbing my body.”
“Right, but barely. And it’s just a friendly pat.”
“Doesn’t feel like it to me. Feels like you should stop now so—”
He cut himself off before he got to the no-doubt-harrowing end of whatever that was. Before I get so tense I start converting the carbon in my body into diamonds, she decided it was.
Only that was when she felt his hands on her.
On her skirt, tugging it up. Urgently, too, really urgently, even though he’d never been that way before. Excited, sure. Tormented by weird feelings, absolutely. But not like this, not greedy for himself like this.
And it was for himself, too.
He had her up against the door before she’d even had a chance to process. Cock fit to bursting, in her pussy, hands tight on her arse, driving into her so fast and hard and desperate it almost made her come just from the thrill of such a thing. Caleb Miller wanting to do her hard, she thought.
And rode him right back.
She rutted against him, moaning high and tight.
Then even higher and tighter when he didn’t wait for her to offer.
He begged her for it. “Kiss me,” he gasped out as he rocked into her body.
As if he’d never reacted badly to any of it at all.
Not the sex, not the orgasm—not even the affection.
Or maybe he understood he had, and had now worked past it.
Realigned what was real and what wasn’t in his head.
She didn’t know. Couldn’t ask while he was inside her.
All she could do was listen to what he needed right now. Her mouth on his as they rutted against each other, like beasts. And at first, it did seem to do the trick. He sank into her kiss like someone starved of them. Hungry in a way he never was, tongue immediately tangling with hers.
Hot, she thought.
Or, at least, she felt like she should think so.
It was everything a thrilling kiss could be—all wet and open and full of filthy gasps. At one point he moaned into her mouth, and it vibrated right the way through her body and down to her cunt. She almost went over right then and there.
But she knew why she held off.
She wanted it for him first.
Like the usual roles were reversed. He was the one it took time and care and consideration for. She was the one it didn’t. She had to get him there, with all the things he liked. Telling him it felt so good, urging herself back against him as if she were the one doing the fucking.
Then finally, finally, she kissed him. She insinuated her mouth against his, as tenderly as he had just done to her. Let her fingers run through his hair. And that was it, right there. He started shaking almost straight away, thrusts suddenly sloppy, heated groans breaking out of his body.
Because that was the thing that pushed him over the edge.
Affection. A soft touch. Her whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
It made him come so hard he couldn’t even make a sound through it.
There was just one problem:
He didn’t want to make a sound afterward, either. Affection was the thing that gave it to him, it seemed. But also, quite clearly, the thing that took away.