Page 62 of For One Night Only

“Caleb, I’ve been waiting for this for six years. Of course I’m impatient.”

He freezes. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

Despite the urgency of the moment, I roll my eyes. “I mean, I haven’t been anun, but it was never as good. Not with anyone else.”

Caleb’s green eyes sober in the lamplight. “Same. No one has ever compared to how I felt with you.”

I stare up at him, smirking. “You’ve beenpiningafter me, haven’t you?”

“Hey, clearly, so have you,” he gestures at my nearly naked body, practically writhing for his touch, and heat rushes all the way down to my toes. “Now, can I touch you already? I’m dying here.”

“Please. Anywhere,” I practically beg. And then his fingers are wandering everywhere: grazing my throat, cupping my breasts, grasping my hips. Even with those bass-string calluses, his touch is tender, sweet, and full of so much care it makes my eyes sting. I can’t believe we’re doing this.

As if sensing my emotion, he pauses, rising up to brush his lips against mine again.

“You still with me?” he murmurs, his hand stilling on my waist.

“Yes,” I say hoarsely. “I just…I really missed you. I never thought we’d be back here again.”

“I’m glad we are.” He presses light kisses to my temple, my cheekbone, my nose, and I giggle.

“Well, don’t stop now,” I say through a laugh.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And then he continues his exploration, slowly and deliberately caressing every exposed inch of my skin except the place I most desperately need. Finally, once he’s charted the map of every single curve, he palms me through the thin lace of my underwear. “I can already feel how much you want me.”

“I’ve wanted you all night,” I admit.

He hisses under his breath, like he’s holding himself back. “That is so fucking hot, Val.”

But he still doesn’t move his hand right away. Instead, he brushes more kisses across my skin, this time down my collarbone, light and teasing.

“Caleb, I swear to god…” I trail off with a sigh as he draws my nipple into his mouth, just a teasing taste, a tender flick of his tongue, but not enough. It sends a jolt of pleasure down my spine, and I let out an involuntary moan.

“Oh, you like that?” he asks.

“I love your mouth,” I say. He should always be doing this with his tongue. Anything else is time wasted.

“I can think of better ways to use it.”

And then he’s drawing his mouth down past my navel, wet and hot, stopping at the last scraps of thin fabric still covering me. Like a fantasy, he grabs the red lace carefully with his teeth and drags it down my thighs, his evening scruff scratching tantalizingly against my sensitive skin.

Instead of taking them off completely, he draws my panties off just far enough, and then he buries his head between my legs.

“Fucking hell, Caleb,” I hiss, throwing my head back against the pillows.

Gone are those teasing touches. He finds my clit immediately, remembering exactly where to kiss me, brushing his lips and tongue against my most sensitive spot in long, languid strokes.After a few minutes, he finds the perfect rhythm to work me into a panting, desperate frenzy, strumming me like a guitar string.

I’m nearly vibrating with need, but it’s not enough to get me there. “More,” I gasp.

He glances up at me, his gaze dark and heavy under that smudged eyeliner, and grins. “If you insist.”

And then he sucks my clit into his mouth and slides two fingers inside me. Tension builds deep in my core and I don’t know if it’s the anticipation of tonight or the literal years fantasizing about being with him again, but I lose all sense of time until I’m hovering over that sweet edge of oblivion, faster than I thought possible.

“God, Val, you’re so fucking sweet.” He raises his head slightly as he murmurs, before burying it between my legs once more with a moan of pleasure, like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And then I’m falling in earnest. I cry out, and I don’t even try to muffle the sound. He doesn’t relent, kissing and touching me until I’ve ridden out the last wave of my orgasm on his tongue. Only when I let out a shaky breath does he pull away, climbing back up to me.

When he reaches my shoulder he hovers, like he’s not sure if I’ll want to kiss him after that, but I reach up and grasp the back of his head, drawing his mouth to mine. He tastes like me and him and still the lingering sugar from the dessert, and I’m undone.

---