“I don’t believe in love,” she gasps, fingernailsnow digging into my scalp. “It’s a scam. It’s how you end up abandoned.”
I brush her hair back and cup her cheek.
“I won’t leave without you.” I kiss her.
“You say that now,” she murmurs against my lips.
“I’ll say it again tomorrow. And the day after. As long as it takes. I love you.”
She pulls back and looks at me like she wants to believe me. Like maybe she will, one day.
Then she grabs her own throat with one hand, the other on the counter.
I pause, confused.
Her fingers curl loosely around her neck, her eyes locking on mine.
Daring me.
Fuck.
She doesn’t say anything.
She just holds that gaze. Defiant. Needy. Begging without words.
I swallow hard, then replace her hand with mine at her throat. Not squeezing. Just holding.
Her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting.
And when I thrust up again—slow, punishing—her mouth drops open in a silent scream.
I squeeze a little at her throat.
She likes it. God help me, she needs it.
Her voice breaks on a curse. “Fuck,Caleb—I’m close.”
She writhes on the counter, knees shaking, hands sliding up under her breasts, tweaking her nipples again and rolling them hard between her fingers. Her clitis pressed to my groin, and every time I grind in, she grinds back, chasing it.
I lose the rhythm, hips stuttering, because she’s so goddamn filthy and beautiful and vulnerable without saying a single word.
She slaps my chest once—hard—and then grabs my shoulder and pulls me back in.
I let her.
She buries her face in that nook between my neck and shoulder again, biting down hard as her thighs start trembling. Her little teeth sink in deeper than before, and fuck—the unexpected pain makes my cock thicken inside her.
And then she tightens.
Spasming around me.
No warning.
No lead-up.
She just explodes.
She jerks beneath me, one hand fisted in my hair, the other clawing down my back, leaving raw trails. Her body clamps down, pulses around me, milking me as she gasps out ragged breaths against my throat.