Page 14 of Fight or Flight

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“It is.” His gaze was suddenly calculated. “You think your beauty gives you power over me. It doesn’t.” He thrust his fingers in and out of me and my toes curled into the bedding.

“You are such an ass—Oh!” He caught my clit with his thumb again, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

“You were saying?”

I reached for him, laying my small hands flat against his hard chest, and I stared him straight in the eye, attempting to push through the fog of lust. “We don’t like each other. For a second I might have thought otherwise in the glow of champagne. But we don’t. So let’s not pretend that physical attraction isn’t the only reason I’m letting you touch me right now. You think I’m beautiful and I think you’re hot and that has power over both of us even though we’d rather it didn’t. So stop being an imperious prick.”

For a moment he appeared pissed off. Then the anger melted. “True enough.” He removed his hand and then gently took each of my wrists in his hands and pinned them to the mattress at either side of my head. I felt overwhelmed by the size of him. We were two people giving in to the power of physical attraction, and in that we were even.

He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

That I could deal with.

Caleb bent his head to mine, and that masculine, earthy scent rushed over me, sending a new jolt of desire.

“I promised I’d ruin you, lass,” he murmured, and then kissed me. His tongue pushed between my lips and slid over mine, dancing with it in a dirty, deep, wet kiss. My hips pulsed toward him at the feel of his hardness rubbing against my belly.

And then he was gone, taking his mouth from mine as his grip on my wrists loosened. His fingers trailed teasingly down the soft skin of my inner arm and down the sides of my breasts as he stopped to pay attention to them.

His stubble scratched against my skin in the most delicious way as my body writhed, bucking off the bed. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, stroking his hot, smooth skin. My fingers curled tightly into the longer section of his hair as he paid lavish attention to my breasts. He brought me to the edge of orgasm and then stopped, kissing them sweetly.

“Caleb.” I groaned, tugging on his hair.

He reached for my hands, gripped my wrists, and slammed them back above my head. Then his lips were moving down my stomach, his tongue licking my belly button, before moving south. My lower belly rippled as his mouth neared closer to where I wanted it the most.

My legs fell open, inviting him in. I heard his grunt of satisfaction seconds before his tongue touched me.

Need slammed through me and my hips pushed into his mouth. He gripped them, pressing them back to the mattress, and then he truly began his torture.

As his thick stubble scratched and tickled my thighs, he suckled. He studied my body, my reactions, and just when I was about to reach blinding satisfaction he’d lift his head and press a sweet kiss to my inner thigh.

I cried out in frustration. “You are a bastard.”

Caleb’s grip on my hips became almost bruising.

And then his tongue was back. I shuddered, but it still wasn’t enough. Hearing my whimpers, the Scot introduced his fingers into the equation.

“Caleb!” I jerked against him. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop!”

Cool air blew over me suddenly as he got up off the bed. I glanced up in confusion, wondering what the hell he was trying to do to me! My body relaxed when I saw he was pulling a condom out of the wallet in his jeans. His eyes ate up the sight of me sprawled naked on his bed as he readied himself.

“Are you done?”

“So impatient.” Laughter trembled in his voice as he moved back up onto the bed, moving over me with intent. His lips brushed mine, softly, sweetly, surprising me, and then he pushed up onto one hand and curled his other around my thigh, opening me … and he thrust inside me.

Hard.

I gasped his name in pleasured pain. Our eyes held as my breath scattered as he moved inside me, the feel of him so perfect it electrified my lower spine. I whimpered and he let go of my thigh only to lift my legs so my hips and ass came up off the bed. His large hands held the back of my thighs, holding me at this angle as he got up on his knees. And then he powered hard into me.

And something happened.

He seemed to hit this sensitive part inside of me I’d never felt before and my whole body was seized with this incredible pleasure. I wasn’t aware of anything but the heat flushing through me, of the feel of Caleb’s hot skin and hard muscle beneath my hands.

He kept hitting that spot until I wasn’t cognizant of anything. I knew I was saying words but they were incoherent even to me. I heard his grunts, I heard my whimpers, I smelled his cologne and his sweat mingling with mine and my perfume.

But it was all a blur against the coiling bliss building inside of me.

And then I splintered, shattered apart, exquisite pleasure undulating through me. “Caleb!” I cried, my eyes fluttering closed as it rushed through my entire body, its focus in my center. The sensation was so sexy, so raw, I never wanted it to end. It felt like it was never going to end. Caleb’s hips stilled. And then his lower body seemed to shudder long and hard against me.

I lay stunned, limp, as Caleb grunted and buried his face in my neck. Our chests rose and fell against each other as we tried to catch our breath. I remembered the look on his face as he came. His gritted teeth, his flushed skin, the dazed lust in his wolf eyes.

God, that was hot. It made me curl my fingers in his hair to tug his head up. I kissed him, sweet, deep, wet, loving the scratch of his short beard. He kissed me back, and I rolled until I was on top of him. His hands caressed my back, my hair, my ass as we kissed, and I pressed against him, needing more, wanting him ready again.

Not too long later he was, and I explored him and the raw masculinity that fascinated me despite myself.

The desperation of our need eased by our first time, I dragged my nails down his hard stomach as I rose up and down on him and felt my power over him. The power he hated that I had over him.

It felt good.

Whatever satisfaction he saw in my face made Caleb climax first, and as his hips bucked beneath mine he tipped me over the edge, and we came together.

We stared at each other for a moment, two strangers who had just shared something extraordinary, and I felt the moment reality returned.

I’d just had sex with a man I didn’t even like.

And he’d had sex with a woman he didn’t even like.

Somehow I didn’t think that was such a big deal to him, but it was to me.

Even more so that it had been so physically epic.

With the ache in my body now satisfied, the heat of pleasure dissipated and I felt cold. I eased off him and he let go of my hips so I could slip off the bed. I grabbed my clothes from the floor around the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Misery overwhelmed me, and I wondered how I could go from enjoying the most pleasure I was sure any woman had ever felt to feeling wretched with myself. Disappointed in myself.

And wondering how the hell I could get out of there without losing face.

I took my time until I panicked that maybe he thought I was trying to stick around.

However, when I stepped out of the bathroom, Caleb was lying sprawled with the sheets over him, his arms above his head, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes closed.

The asshole had fallen asleep.

“Caleb?”

He didn’t even twitch.

I stepped closer to the bed. “Caleb?” I shook the mattress a little.

Still nothing.

Wondering if he was pretending to sleep as an immature way to get rid of me, I held my finger under his nose. The lack of movement from him and the steady, even breaths he took convinced me he was asleep. Relief moved through me. I slipped on my shoes, studying the potently beautiful and masculine man lying in bed.

It was the kind of sex I would never forget, even if I had been getting sex regularly.

And I decided right there and then to get over myself. So what if I didn’t like Caleb? Being attracted to someone I didn’t like didn’t make me a bad person. It made me human. And you know what? For a couple of hours everything had been simple and good.

Knowing he was asleep, I approached him quietly and acknowledged that if he was clean shaven he’d look almost boyish in his sleep. I wanted to kiss that pouty mouth one last time, but I was afraid it would wake him.


Tags: Samantha Young Romance