Page 54 of Fragile Heart

I’ve never actually been inside Emily’s guest house. It’s decorated in soft greens and yellows, the warm colors blending with the dark walnut stain that trims all the windows and doorways. The kitchen is a light oak that contrasts perfectly against the darker wood.

I cross the living room, bypassing the sofa for the promise of the bed I can just see inside the room farthest from me. This room is also done in muted earth tones. It reminds me, of all things, of Ethan’s tattoos, like she took a picture of them and recreated them in linens and textures. This room has more personal touches than the living room, small pieces of artwork and a broader, unnameablepresencethat makes it feel more intimate than just a bedroom. There’s no missing that this is where she’s nested.

I hesitate at the threshold, not wanting to intrude.

“You all right with me being in here?”

She nods, running her lips across my jaw.

“Please,” she whispers against the shell of my ear. I shiver and hold her tighter. “Mark it. Give me your scent.”

I groan and close the door behind us, a byproduct of living with a preschooler. Her lips are more frantic against mine now, her tongue moving against my own in a way that tells me exactly how she wants this to go down. Lavender drowns the space, so overwhelming it’s practically a drug.

She bites my bottom lip, and my control falls away from me. Cinnamon explodes around us as I drop her to the bed, burying my hands in her hair before she can move away from me and lay back on the pillows.

Chapter Twenty-Five

CALEB

Every time I’m with her, it’s as thrilling as that first time she let me lay her out on that blanket and knot her in the middle of the forest. Her breaths come in short, shallow pants as I ease the dress over her head, tossing it into the corner of the small room. She pushes down my jeans and underwear, her hands wrapping around my dick the literal second it’s freed from the constrictive fabric. I can’t help but groan as she squeezes my base, right where my knot is just starting to inflate.

And then we’re a frantic movement of bodies. Her limbs are long and lean where they stretch along the bed. I undo the front clasp of her bra, not bothering to move the straps off her shoulders before closing my lips around one nipple. She bows off the bed on a strangled cry. As I ease the fabric off of her, I focus on her other breast, giving it just as much attention. Before pulling away, I scrape my teeth across the hardened bud of her nipple and grin as she whimpers.

Her bra ends up in the opposite corner as her dress, tossed carelessly over my shoulder. I nudge her knees farther apartwith my own as I strip out of my shirt and toss it in the same general direction as her dress. Her hands twist into the bedspread above her head.

She’s gorgeous. Like every fantasy I’ve ever had, every centerfold spread that’s existed for men’s eyes, laid out before me for my own enjoyment.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Brielle,” I mutter.

Her throat ripples with her swallow, but she doesn’t shy away from me. Instead, she tilts her hips toward me in universal question.

Her skin is smooth as silk as I duck my head and run my nose along her thigh. I press my nose into the lace covering her cunt, breathing in her scent—lavender, salt, and woman. It’s like a drug, rushing through me and making me ravenous. I bite the lace panties and then pull, ripping the delicate fabric at the seams.

“Holy crap,” she gasps. “You did not just rip my panties.”

I chuckle, the sound full of hunger, and then trace the line where her thighs meet her core with my tongue.

“I absolutely did,” I say against her skin. “They were in my way.”

“Caleb,” she whispers. Her hand twists into my hair, her nails running along my scalp. I nip at her inner thigh, and she rocks her hips toward me. She shudders in a breath. “Caleb, those are—were—La Perla.”

Hot damn. I didn’t realize she’d wear anything that expensive when she wasn’t even expecting to see me. Shit like that is what women wear when they’re wanting to impress the person fucking them. Had she been hoping I’d stop by? Had she worn them on the off chance we’d run into each other in town today and I’d fuck her in my truck?

The thought has my voice dropping, filling with the hunger coursing through me.

“Sweetheart,” I mutter, “they could be made of real gold, and I’d rip them to shreds right now.”

A rush of her slick coats her skin, and I groan. The next moment, I have my mouth on her, tasting every single inch of her I can. She’s so damnsweet.I’ll never be able to get enough, certainly not right now. Her legs start to shake, and I double down on my efforts, running my tongue across her clit while palming her knees, keeping them from closing around me. I want to be able to see her as she comes. I scrape my teeth across her clit, and she arches on a desperate gasp, her feet digging into my back.

I rise over her before she’s gotten a chance to really come down from the orgasm, wrapping her legs around my hips and then twisting us. My back lands on the plush mattress as her hands splay across my chest.

“Caleb,” she gasps. I grin and mess with her nipples, a feral need overcoming me as I watch them tighten into tight buds begging for my mouth.

“Ride me, sweetheart,” I command her, low and fervent. She perfumes again, and I grunt, the need doubling over again. “Use me to make better memories.”

Her chest shudders with her sudden deep breath. And then she’s moving, her nails biting into my chest as she chases her pleasure.

Holy goddamn, she’s gorgeous. Her lips are red and swollen, and her eyes are hazy with her need. Her hair spills over her shoulders and down her front, blocking her nipples as she leans forward to change the angle. She clenches around me, so hot it’s like a branding fist around my dick. I shove up into her, trying to get deeper, get under her skin the way she’s under mine.

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