Page 62 of A Temporary Forever

It doesn’t take long before I feel her clenching around my fingers while she pushes her hips forward shamelessly.

I look up and, fuck, the sight is worth half of my assets. Celeste is moaning into her fist, her hooded gaze sultry.

I reach to squeeze her breast and twist her nipple, and she clenches, gripping my fingers in a vice-like hold as her climax takes over. I keep pumping my fingers and massage her clit as she rides the wave, but soon I have to use both my hands to support her because her legs give in.

Standing up, I push the neckline of the camisole down, exposing her large breasts. “I need to taste these as well.”

I take one pebbled peak into my mouth like it’s my only lifeline. Her soft gasp gives me an unreasonable jolt of satisfaction.

I rise to kiss her mouth, still holding her for support.

“I can’t believe I let you do this,” she whispers.

“Complaining, black swan?” I nip at her earlobe.

“Oh, I want more, but here? What were you thinking?” She holds the back of my neck, berating me, but keeping me close at the same time.

“I was thinking you’re my wife, and I have the right to fuck you.”

“Now who is from the eighteenth century? Your right is limited by my consent.”

“I don’t remember you stopping me. Or was pushing your hips into my face, almost suffocating me, an attempt to escape?”

Even in the darkened space, with city lights flickering on the wall around us, I can see her cheeks color. “Asshole.”

“There she is.” I smirk, and I know I should leave it at that, but my cock is painfully trying to burst through my briefs and my sweatpants.

Tonight’s encounter started recklessly, so why would we tone it down?

“Wait here.”

She’s about to say something, but I kiss it away from her lips.

“Stay fucking here, Celeste, or I’ll punish you.” I take her lips again. “With or without consent.”

Okay, clearly my dick took over my brain yet again, but by the flash of excitement in her eyes, it didn’t take it too far.

Dashing to my room, I return with a condom in my pocket. A normal person would move the events to one of our bedrooms, but I’m me.

And if I’m going to finally enjoy Celeste Delacroix, I need it with a dash of daring carelessness.

“What are you—”

I kiss her again because I’m done with banter. “I need you to be silent for a little longer.”

I yank her across the hallway, then whip her around and push her against the banister, her back to my chest.

“Caleb—” She moans as I squeeze her breasts and sags into me. “We really shouldn’t. Not here.”

“Tell me you want me to stop, black swan.” I move her hair away and kiss her neck, nibbling my way down to her shoulder while I play with her nipples.

She melts into me, raising her hand and fisting my hair again, holding me in place. I guess that’s my answer.

“Caleb, she can’t find us like this.”

“She won’t if you keep quiet.”

“This is madness.” Her words ring of protest, but her body tells a different story.

---