Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(13)

When the kisses and touches are no longer enough, Caleb sits back on his knees, and I let out a soft groan at the loss of his heat across my body. His mouth quirks up in a cocky grin as he reaches across me—into his nightstand—for a condom. Just as he starts to open it, I reach up and slide it from between his fingers.

“Let me,” I tell him.

He licks his lips as I sit up, my legs spread with him kneeling between them, our arousal firing on all cylinders. I bring the foil packet up to my mouth, catch the edge of it between my teeth, and pull. I can hear the long breath of air Caleb inhales as lean forward and roll the condom down his cock. Once it’s on, I stroke him a couple of times, loving the way his body trembles as he keeps a tenuous hold on his control.

I can tell that Caleb is at the end of his rope, hanging on by a single thread, and as much as I like teasing him, I don’t want to torture him. So, I lie back, and hook my leg around his waist.

“Don’t make me wait,” I tell him, playfully repeating the words he had used on me earlier.

He growls—actually growls—as he plants his hands above my shoulders, and lowers himself down on top of me.

Starting at Caleb’s lips, I kiss my way across his cheek, down the column of his neck, along the curve of his shoulder. I stop and suck little spots here and there, wanting to make sure he sees evidence of this night on his skin long after it’s over. Meanwhile, he’s teasing me with the head of his cock, pressing it against me, but not entering. He lets it slip up and down my slit, then rubs my clit with it, making me crazy. Crazy enough to beg.

“Please,” I whisper, moving my hand to the small of his back and pushing down, hoping I have enough strength to move him forward.


“Please what? I won’t do it if you don’t ask.” He pulls away from me, leaving me wanting in order to drive his point home.

I bite my lip, frustrated, and buck my hips to see if I can find a little friction, but there’s nothing.

“Please,” I whisper, almost whine. “I want you inside of me. Now.”

Caleb lines himself up with my entrance, wearing a wicked, sexy grin. He pushes in just far enough to make me lose my patience.

“Fuck me,” I say, breathless as I wrap my legs around his hips.

“My pleasure.”

Caleb thrusts, sliding all the way inside of me, and we both let out long, low moans. Finally. He’s balancing himself on his right elbow, and the fingers on his right hand curl between mine and hold on tight. He latches onto my neck, sucking, and licking, and kissing the tender, heated skin there. Slowly, he drags his left hand across the swell of my breast, and he flicks my nipple before going lower, until his thumb finds my clit.

He rubs it in a rhythm that is opposite to the one he’s moving his hips to; it’s a slow, steady, glorious torture. I squeeze him every time he slides out of me, making him grunt in my ear. It’s a sound I could get addicted to, and I’m going to do anything I can to hear it again, and again, and again. I plant my feet on the bed to give myself leverage, and I meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck,” Caleb whispers, so low I’m not even sure I’m supposed to hear it. “Fuck.”

When we kiss—desperately—something inside of me starts unraveling, giving in to the pleasure that’s pulsing all the way out to my fingertips and toes. I feel Caleb everywhere, and we move together in perfect sync, like we were made to make each other feel like this. Caleb pounds into me, and I’m falling, coming with his name on my lips, pressing sloppy kisses against his skin, in every single spot I can reach. He lets me ride out my orgasm, before he props himself up on his elbows and cradles my face in his hands.

“Mia,” he says. It’s kind of soft, and full of something that I can’t quite get a read on.

I reach up and put my hands over his. He leans down and presses his forehead against mine, his breath warm across my face.

“Let go,” I tell him, before I kiss him.

Caleb pumps his hips a few more times, then his whole body stiffens as he cries out. His chest is heaving, and his weight is so warm and welcome. My hands rub a long circuit up and down his back, and when he opens his eyes, looking sated and happy, he smiles.

“Stay,” he says.

I do.





CHAPTER NINE





I wake up with Caleb’s strong, warm arms wrapped around me. My back is pressed tightly against his chest, his face is nuzzled in the crook of my neck. I can feel the scratchy whiskers on his cheek and chin against my skin. He breathes in and out, making my hair flutter against my cheek.

There’s a cool, bluish light that’s beginning to peek into the room from behind the heavy curtains. It’s still very early—barely dawn—but I feel like I’ve been sleeping for hours. I’m rested. I’m waking up from the most peaceful, restful sleep I can remember having in a long time, even before I left Chicago. That, coupled with the hangover from all the sex Caleb and I had last night, I feel almost euphoric.

My body, though, is thoroughly exhausted. Even though I’m lying perfectly still, I can feel the ache between my thighs. I’m not complaining, not at all. It’s a good ache, one that makes me smile and shiver when I remember all the things that Caleb and I did that made me feel this way. Rounds two, three, and four hadn’t been as hurried and desperate as the first, but they were just as intense. They were focused, and intimate, and memorable.