Page 81 of For One Night Only

And then we’re grabbing, desperate, clinging to each other like a raft in a wild sea in these last precious few moments. He lets go of my fingers and slides a hand up my arm, caressing my neck, pressing his palm to my cheek. I lean into his touch, slipping my arms around his neck and pulling him toward me.

His lips brush mine in the sweetest of kisses that sparks the flame between us. I deepen the kiss, our tongues colliding. When I hook my leg around his hip and press his growing erection into my center, grinding into him, a feral growl escapes the back of his throat.

He draws back, leaning his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Val.”

I love seeing him like this, completely undone. When we’re out in public, he doesn’t swear all that much. But when it’s just the two of us in bed, he has the filthiest mouth. Hearing him sayfuckis my own private kink.

“I just want to be close to you right now,” I say.I’m afraid this will be the last time, is the unspoken phrase sitting on my tongue.

“I want that too,” he says. His fingers trace down to my shoulder, and he plays with the fabric of my tank top. “May I?”

“Please.”

He slips the dainty strap down my shoulder, fingering the lace, and exposes my breasts to the air. But he doesn’t do more than stare. “God, just look at you.” He swallows. “I never get over this view.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get bored of me.”

“It’d be impossible to get bored of this.” He palms my breast, then works my nipple into a point with a gentle touch of those rough, practiced fingertips. The bass-string calluses send a jolt down my spine, and I shudder. “You like that?” he says, a hint of smugness in his tone.

“I love your hands,” I say.

“Those aren’t the only things I can use to make you feel good,” he says, before dipping his head down to my breast. Maybe it’s the late hour, or the urgency of our circumstances, but he doesn’t continue his teasing. Instead, he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks, grazing the nub with his tongue.

A soft moan escapes my lips as the sensation sends heat between my thighs. I press them together, but it’s not enough.

“Touch me,” I beg.

Without stopping his attention to my breast, he trails his hand down my belly and dips into my shorts. He traces the curve of my ass down between my legs, then palms my center. This stops him short.

“Fuck, Val, you’re already so ready for me.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I thought I asked you to touch me.”

He quirks a brow, even though his pupils are blown wide with desire. “You’re so impatient. I should really tease you, get you all worked up and begging for it.”

“I’m already begging you for it,” I whine.

He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing. “I’ve never been able to say no to you.”

And with that, he slips two deliberate fingers into my folds, using his palm to rub my clit in a slow, rhythmic way that makes me gasp. His long, calloused fingers press that perfect spot deep inside me, already taking me to the brink, until he pauses.

“Is that how you want it?” Caleb Sloane has figured out exactly how to drive me wild.

“Yes,” I hiss. “Don’t stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He works me into a near frenzy, until I’m just on the edge of bliss.

“More,” I say, palming him through his shorts, luxuriating in his heavy length. “I need your cock inside me. Now.”

This time, he’s the one shuddering. “Condom,” he says, shoving down his shorts.

I scramble over to the bedside table, reach into the open box, and yank out the first condom I can grab. My fingers are trembling so much with need that I have to rip it open with my teeth.

“That is so fucking hot,” he says with a sigh.

“You should see what else I can do with my mouth.”

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