Page 83 of Tamed

“He wasn’t exactly singing with joy, no.” Caleb didn’t move as I touched him, his gaze dropping down over my naked body. He didn’t make any effort to hide his hunger and he didn’t flinch as my fingers brushed over the prickly skin of his injured jaw. “But that’s his problem. It isn’t yours.” He reached for me, one hand sliding from my hip to the small of my back, while the other slid between my legs, stroking me and making me wet within seconds.

Pleasure crackled like lightning through me, but I ignored it, because now reality was hitting there were a whole lot of things I hadn’t considered. “It is my problem,” I said. “You’re his friend. If you hadn’t done anything with me then—”

“He was always going to have a problem with it, and I knew that.” Caleb rubbed his thumb gently over my clit and making me tremble. “I knew that the moment I first touched you. It didn’t make me stop, Isabel, and it’s not going to make me stop now.”

My mouth was dry, my heartbeat racing. Pleasure was beginning to blur the edges of my thinking, and I didn’t want him to stop. But this was important. “I don’t want your friendship to be ruined because of me.”

“If our friendship is ruined it won’t be because of you.” His hand shifted as he slid a finger inside me, pushing in deep, testing me. His black gaze was fierce, and I could see something hard and sharp in it, a tension in his tall, muscular body that hadn’t been there last night.

Seeing Dad had obviously not been great for him and no matter what he said, I knew that if being with me destroyed his friendship with Dad, it would hurt him.

I kept one palm pressed to his hard chest, the other stroking his bruised jaw, my hips flexing with the movement of his hand. He needed this from me, I could sense it, some pleasure to combat his worry. “What can I do?” I asked. “What do you need from me, Daddy?”

He took his hand away from me abruptly and let me go. Then he stood back and took off his clothes, ripping at them as if he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. Naked, he bent to grab his wallet from his jeans and he took out a condom, tearing the packet open then rolling the latex down with a casual movement that had my mouth going even drier than it already was.

“I thought next time I was going to do that for you,” I said.

“Not now.” He reached for me, grabbing my hips, propelling me across the room and up against the cold glass of the huge floor to ceiling windows. I gasped, his ferocity taking me by surprise. He didn’t wait, his hand sliding behind my left knee and lifting it up, hooking it around his waist, then he slammed himself inside me in one hard, possessive thrust.

I cried out, arching against the window, feeling the stretch and burn of sensitive tissues that had already gotten a major workout the night before. My hands were against his chest, half holding him away so I could breathe through the twin sensations of discomfort and pleasure.

“Take me.” He thrust deeper, impaling me, stretching me, pressing me against the unforgiving glass. “Take my cock, little girl.”

The window was cold and hard at my back, while Caleb was hot and hard against my front, and I squirmed against him, trying to breathe, trying to adjust to him inside me. “Yes, Daddy.”

“And what do you say?” The edge of demand was in his voice. “What do you want me to do to you? I need the words.”

His whole body was tense, so I slid my hands up his chest to his shoulders, digging my fingers into the heavy muscle there. His skin was smooth and even though I’d tasted every inch of it the night before I wanted to taste it very badly now. But I remained where I was, sandwiched between him and the glass, looking up into his battered face and the black maelstrom of his gaze.

“I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” I whispered.

He put his hands on the window on either side of my head and bent, his mouth covering mine. A devouring, hungry kiss that gave no quarter, leaving me with no option but to take it. And I wanted to. The meeting with Dad had clearly affected him and now it was obvious that he wanted to stake his claim on me.

I had no problem with that whatsoever.

I slid my fingers into the thick, black silk of his hair as he began to move, thrusting into me, each flex of his hips shoving me against the glass. In a dim part of my mind, I knew that we were on show, that probably all of Manhattan could see us, but maybe that had been his intention.

Maybe he wanted them to see us.

Maybe he wanted everyone to know that I was his.

I held tight to his hair, glorying in the feel of hot, powerful body slamming into mine as he fucked me up against the glass. There was no tenderness, no gentleness. It was all raw need and pent-up fury, and I let it hammer at me the way his cock hammered at me, driving me harder against the window.

It was glorious and painful and so good, the pleasure indescribable. And when he slid his hands beneath my ass and lifted me completely off the floor, my legs wrapping around his waist, it got even more intense.

I came, screaming against his mouth, and he didn’t stop. He only fucked me harder, sliding a hand between my thighs to pinch my clit, making yet another orgasm crash over me so close to the first that this time I could only give a soundless cry. Then he growled against my neck and bit me, his teeth sharp against my skin as the orgasm came for him too.

There was a moment of silence, the room echoing with the sound of our combined breathing, harsh and fast, then Caleb said roughly, “You should know what I am. You should know my past, and you should hear it from me.”

I was still pressed to the glass, his body against mine a wall of hot skin and hard muscle. The air was full of the earthy scent of sweat, sex, and masculine spice and for a second I didn’t want to hear it. I’d apparently forgotten my need to know everything about him. It didn’t matter. Knowing wouldn’t change the way I felt about him, not a single iota.

My hands were still tangled in his hair, the heavy strands silky against my fingers, and I kept them there. “I don’t need to know,” I said, my voice ragged. “Your past doesn’t matter to me.”

“It might not matter to you, but it matters to Ten.” Caleb shifted against me. “Better you hear the worst from me rather than him.”

I kept my legs tight around his waist, holding him to me, wanting to keep him close. “It won’t change anything. It won’t change the way I feel about you.”

Caleb stared down at me, the darkness in his gaze consuming. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving you up, Isabel. Telling Ten makes this long term, understand? So, it doesn’t matter whether it changes things for you or not, you’re still mine. I told you that.”