Page 86 of Wicked Dreams

Why am I letting him touch me like this?

Because no one ever has.

My heart skips when his hot mouth touches my other breast, clamping on my nipple.

Holy shit. Every nerve is on fire, begging to be touched, but I can’t speak.

His tongue swirls on my skin. It’s the only warning I get before he bites me. Hard.

I yelp, my hands coming down and shoving at his head. He chuckles against my skin and allows me to push him off. Sitting back and kneeling next to my body, he shoves my blankets off of me. In a quick move, he grabs the waistband of my shorts and yanks them down, taking my panties with it.

“Caleb.” I sit up fast. My back hits my headboard, and I put my hand between my legs. Mainly to hide myself from him. My t-shirt slides back down, concealing my breasts.

I’m burning with shame and a tiny bit too much desire for this situation. He drops my shorts but keeps my white lace panties in one hand.

“If looks could kill.” He appraises me. “Do you not want me to touch you, little lamb?”

Well…

He sees my indecision plain as day. And he makes the choice for me. “Give me your hands.”

We watch each other in the dark. This is another test, isn’t it? Another fucking game. But this one… I guess it feels a bit safe, here in my bedroom. I offer my arms, and he loops my panties around each wrist. He moves to the headboard and ties it to one of the bars.

The position has my head back on the pillow. My heart lurches, but all he does is lean down and trail kisses down my jaw, my throat. “Will you scream? Wake up your foster parents?”

There’s something inexplicably aggravating about how helpless I feel. The more he touches me, the more I want to touch him back.

It’s just me, he said.

“No.” I swallow. “I wouldn’t scream. Not now. And certainly not?—”

He thrusts a finger into me without warning. I hadn’t even realized his hand had drifted, so focused on his expression. But the feeling is unlike anything else, and my mouth opens and shuts uselessly.

His other hand goes to my throat, caressing the spot where I’m sure he can feel my pulse leaping out of my skin. His eyes gleam with a challenge as he slowly withdraws and pumps it back in. Again and again until my legs shake.

He hasn’t touched anything else.

I tug on the restraint, and he kisses the corner of my lips.

“Don’t ask me to fuck you,” he whispers. “Because when I do, youwillbe screaming my name.”

He latches on to my nipple, sucking hard before his teeth scrape my skin.

I buck, fighting the feeling. He withdraws his finger from my pussy, and two push back in. It stretches me, and I groan. His thumb brushes my clit.

“Do that again.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest.

His slow assault continues. Each move brings me closer to the edge, although he seems content to take his time. He tastes my breast, my sternum. My other nipple, biting and sucking the flesh above it. That plus what he’s doing between my legs… My core pulses around his fingers.

He takes everything.

So when the orgasm finally crests, he releases my nipple and watches me. My face flames—and the flush takes over my body. He finally releases my pussy, and I sag against the bed.

The glint in his gaze conveys that we haven’t even started yet. Not truly.

He lifts his fingers; they’re glistening in the faint moonlight. He puts them on my lips.

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