Page 68 of Fragile Heart

Lavender explodes from me, and he groans. He lifts me and kicks the door closed in one single, fluid move that has slick rushing down my thighs. I’m expecting him to take me to mybedroom—my nest—but instead he lays me out on the kitchen’s peninsula. The counter is cold against my skin, and I gasp, my nipples pebbling as goosebumps race across my legs. His hands are unerring, unrelenting, as he pushes up my dress and twists the seams of my panties in his grasp.

“Are these ones La Perla, too?” he asks.

When I nod, he grins. And then he rips them at the seams and tosses them across the room.

“Caleb,” I gasp.

He chuckles, and another wave of need rushes through me. His tongue is warm and undeniable against my skin, drawing me into the torrent of need we share. The orgasm races through me, overcomes me, within minutes, surprising us both. He laughs against my skin, palming my thighs to keep them open even as my body ratchets tighter again.

My hands bury in his hair, my nails pricking his skin, and he laughs harder, nearly giddy.

“Three days with you feet from me,” he whispers. “And that damn swimsuit that’s burned into my damn mind. Three days, a swimsuit, and your scent all over my tent, and I couldn’t knot you. Fuck, Brielle, that was three days too many.”

He pulls my clit between his teeth, and I arch on a cry.

“Not to mention that you smelled like Ethan that first day, too.”

He pushes his tongue into me, and I moan.

“Caleb,” I whisper, pulling on his short hair. “Please.”

He smiles and pinches my clit.

“Soon, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

I can’t help but whine.

It’s not until he’s pulled a second blindingly overwhelming orgasm from me that he lifts his head and undoes his jeans. My legs are covered in my slick, and my scent surrounds us both. Need still courses through me, so strong I’m practically chokingon it. I sit up even as my fingers still tingle, needing to feel him, touch him, taste him.

“I need you,” I admit as I scrabble at his shirt, forcing it over his head and then licking up his throat. His laugh is breathless now.

“You have me, sweetheart,” he says, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

He doesn’t waste another second, sinking into me with a single hard thrust that has my toes curling and a moan echoing around the room. He loops his arms under my legs, forcing the angle deeper. I grab the edge of the counter to keep from overbalancing as he forces a hard pace.

“Caleb,” I gasp.

“I love it when you say it like that,” he says. “That little whine you get when you’re so damn close to the edge. It keeps me so fucking hard when I’m flying and supposed to be focusing on other things.”

I clench around him, his voice another layer of sensation I can’t resist.

His hips stutter for a heartbeat, and then he pulls me into him, forcing himself as deep as he can go. He mutters a curse as he comes, and then his knot locks us in place. I fall off the edge again, my knees clenching around his waist as the pleasure turns nearly painful. My scent overpowers his, overpowers the entire cabin. He presses his lips into my throat, the smile curving them warming me even as I try to find the way back down from the sensations he’s wrung from my body. He runs his hand through my hair. I collapse against him and press my cheek against his chest, letting my eyes close as he pulls me tighter into him.

“The edge is gone,” he says, pride in his voice.

I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, it finally is.”

I don’t mention the odd need that was eating away at me before he came by, though. Maybe it had just been an odd form of nesting.

He kisses my temple as his knot finally releases us. He pushes me back onto the counter, holding my hair until he’s confident I’m steady without him. I tuck his cock back away, careful of the zipper. And then he crosses the kitchen and grabs one of the hand towels, running it under the warm water before bringing it over to me.

“What happened to using your shirt?” It’s his preferred method of cleaning me up afterward.

He raises a single eyebrow. “If I use it, you’ll have to wash it. Which defeats the purpose of leaving it here with you.”

My cheeks heat. “I wasn’t going to keep it.”

He laughs and urges my knees apart. I hiss as he wipes up our combined mess, and he croons low in his throat. Once everything is cleaned, he eases my dress back down.

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