Page 50 of Tamed

The heat of his hands on my thighs and his breath on my skin, the sight of his dark head between my legs, everything about this moment combined to make it the most intensely erotic thing I’d ever experienced.

I’d had a lot of fantasies about Caleb, and in the deepest, darkest part of the night where absolutely no one could see my fierce blushes, this had been one of them. It had felt wrong to imagine it, and yet I almost never needed to touch myself when I did. I would come just by thinking hard.

Now it was happening, and I was desperate to give myself up to the moment, yet I’d already decided I wasn’t going give in. He was pushing me, expecting me to fail, to come before he told me to, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Because I knew —I knew— if I wanted to not be just another woman he slept with, I had to surprise him, challenge him. Show him I wasn’t afraid. That I could match him in every way there was. A big ask. But I was a stubborn woman.

I shut my eyes, blocking out the sight of him, conjuring up every unsexy image I could. Spreadsheets. Algebra. Slightly-off milk. Cheese that had been too long in the fridge. My father telling me when I was fourteen that it was time I had a security detail because he had lots of enemies.

But Caleb was merciless. His tongue circled my clit, teasing, licking, tasting. He increased the pressure of his hands on my thighs, pressing them down harder, making that delicious stretching feeling more intense. Then he pushed that wicked tongue of his inside me.

I couldn’t keep still, my hips shifting, my back arching, pulling against the tie wrapped around my wrists. I gasped out loud, fighting the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to drag me under.

I wasn’t going to give in. I wasn’t.

I bit my lip again, harder, using the pain to clear my head and every bit of my will to stop myself from going over the edge. I called on my anger to help, replaying Caleb catching me tonight, him calling me a silly little girl, telling me I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t listen.

The pleasure became agonizing, the feeling of his mouth on me, licking and circling and using the edge of his teeth, almost unbearable. I could have told him to stop, and I knew he would if I’d truly been serious, but that would have been a surrender, that would have meant I couldn’t handle it or him, and I just wasn’t going give him the satisfaction.

I’d come, but only when he told me to and not a second before.

Time began to slip away and dissolve, my world narrowing to the agonizing, relentless build of pleasure that I couldn’t escape. But I fought and fought, tasting blood from my bit lip.

Then eventually his mouth lifted away and when I opened my eyes, he was kneeling on the floor, between my thighs, the expression on his face utterly unreadable. But the ferocity in his eyes was a hurricane.

The only sound in the room was my harsh, panting breaths and I was shaking. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t look away from him either. There was a faint wash of color on his sharp, carved cheekbones and the fact that he was hard as a rock was immediately obvious.

Beneath the pain of unresolved pleasure, I could feel satisfaction. Yes, I was the one who’d done that. I’d made him hard. I’d put that look in his eyes.

He hadn’t been expecting me to hold out, that was clear.

Shivering, I met his gaze and held it. Let him see that I was as stubborn as he was and just as determined not to give in.

“Well,” he said, his voice roughened and gravelly. “Aren’t you full of surprises?” Then he smiled, but it wasn’t an amused smile. There was something hungry and sharp in it. A shark’s smile.

Oh shit. You’re in trouble.

Maybe. But I wasn’t going to give in and that was the beginning and end of it.

Still kneeling, Caleb reached up to unhook my hands, examining them carefully then chafing my fingers to get the blood running into them. I could see a red mark around my wrists where the tie had pulled against my skin, and it thrilled me. I hoped it would still be there tomorrow.

Once he was satisfied with the state of my hands, he rose to his feet and looked down at me. “Let’s take things up a notch,” he murmured. Then he reached for me, pulling me from the chair and down onto the floor.

He hadn’t untied my wrists, but I lifted them above my head, letting him know that he had me helpless, that I wasn’t going anywhere. But I was afraid. Afraid I wasn’t going to hold out, because he’d dropped to his knees between my thighs, and his hand was on the buttons of his pants, undoing them. Tugging down the zipper. Reaching into his underwear and getting his cock out.

Oh, holy shit…

I was trembling now, trembling hard, because his mouth on my pussy was one thing, but him actually being inside me…losing my virginity to him…

I didn’t know if I could hold out against that and he clearly knew it, because that flame in his gaze was blazing hot.

It made me even more determined to prove him wrong.

With unhurried movements, he tore open the condom packet he’d gotten from somewhere and casually rolled the condom down over his cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The movements of his hand, the way he rolled it down, sheathing himself, were just so unspeakably sexy.

I wanted him naked though, as naked as I was. I wanted his skin on mine and it didn’t seem fair that he was still dressed. Then it occurred to me that perhaps he wanted to keep some kind of barrier between us, and his clothing was it. Interesting that he felt the need to keep some separation. Was that because I was getting to him? Because I was shaking him?

I stared at him, expecting him to stretch himself over the top of me, but he didn’t. He simply knelt there then grabbed my hips and hauled me up his thighs, watching me as he slowly but surely pushed his cock inside me.