Chapter Thirteen

Caleb felt as though he were keeping a wild animal leashed inside him. And her whispered plea tried his self-control more than anything ever had before.

Devil take him, but he’d never been known for his patience when it came to tupping, and he was sure he’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

He wanted to go slow. He wanted to savour her and make sure she was as ready as possible before he took her maidenhead.

But she’d test the patience of a saint. And he was the furthest thing from a saint imaginable.

He filled his eyes with the sight of her, once more wondering just how she’d managed to keep so much beauty hidden from the world.

She was Quality. Of that, there was no doubt.

So, why wasn’t she bedecked in silks and diamonds? Why wasn’t she waking up next to some lucky bastard every morning?

And why did he suddenly want to be the one buying her silks and diamonds? Why did he want to wake up to her every morning?

Caleb already knew that he wouldn’t tire of her any time soon.

Her kisses alone drove him mad with wanting.

Reaching out a hand, he smoothed it over her silken skin, watching as she squirmed at his touch.

She was so damned responsive.

He slowly moved his hand up the smooth, white length of her inner thigh, driving them both mad with the deliberately leisurely pace he set.

Her hips surged as he reached her mound, and her legs dropped open of their own volition.

She was ready for him, he felt it, he heard it in her moans.

But he wanted to make this so pleasurable, so mind-blowing, that she would agree to come back to him.

He bent to capture her lips once more and this time, he held nothing back.

Cupping one, full breast in his hand, he delighted in her gasps of pleasure as he laved at the other.

Her hands tugged urgently on his hair, and he growled against her skin.

He moved further down her body, leaving no part of her untouched.

Finally, he reached the apex of her thighs.

Her head shot up to stare at him, her raven hair tumbling around her flushed cheeks, the silver of her eyes even more pronounced.

She took his breath away. Even glaring wide-eyed at him as she was now.

“What are you doing?,” she hissed. “You can’t!”

“You said you trusted me,” he reminded her.

Where he was getting his patience from, Caleb had no idea.

He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her, making her his in every way.

His lust was fast reaching fever pitch, and he wasn’t entirely sure he’d survive this night.

But even if he perished, he could think of no better way to go.

“I-I do,” she mumbled.

“Then let go,” he urged her gently. “Trust me, Siren. You’re in good hands.”

Their eyes remained locked until he saw the capitulation in her gaze.

She lay back, and Caleb finally pressed his lips against her.

Her hips surged, and her breathless groan snapped the last vestige of his control.

He ravished her with his tongue, feasting on the parts of her that had remained untouched for far too long.

Clamping his hands against her hips, he held in her place when she would have moved away.

Her moans became cries, her gasps became sobs, and his name spilled from her lips over and over, driving him closer to the edge that she was racing toward.

And it was all his – every groan, every plea that was wrung from her mouth – they were his.

Caleb had never felt so enraptured by a sexual experience, and he hadn’t even sought his own pleasure yet.

She was close. He could tell by the stiffening of her body, the breath catching in her throat.

And he wanted to be there with her. Wanted them to come together, in every possible way.

Positioning himself between her legs, he waited until her eyes looked into his, then gently as he could, he began to move.

She flinched slightly as he broke through her barrier, and sweat beaded on his brow while he waited for her to adjust to his being inside her.

With herculean strength, he held himself entirely still until mercifully, she relaxed and rolled her hips, taking him deeper still.

It was all the encouragement he needed.

He rocked against her, filling her and picking up the reins of her desire.

The beast within him raged, demanded that he pound into her delicate flesh. But he went slowly until her own body unconsciously moved faster, pulling him deeper, demanding more.

And so, he gave her everything she didn’t know she was asking for.

***

Caleb swallowed Ophelia’s breaths, as his movements caused the most incredible feeling to build inside her.

She didn’t know how to describe what was happening. She only knew she had never felt like this before. She was climbing, impossibly high, so high that she wasn’t sure she’d survive what was happening to her.

And then suddenly, she broke free, and wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, drowning her in exquisite pleasure.

She wrenched her lips from his, crying out as she reached completion, pulling him into the void with her.

The pleasure was so intense that it verged on pain, and she moved helplessly as Caleb shuddered above her, his own cries mingling with her own.

She watched, fascinated by his beauty as he threw his head back, his breathing as raw and gasping as her own.

As Ophelia floated back down to earth, as her racing heart began to slow, a sense of rightness that she hadn’t expected settled over her.

Caleb held his weight on his forearms and grinned down at her, a lock of dark hair falling over his brow.

He looked so charming, so handsome that her heart twisted.

She couldn’t help herself. She reached up and brushed it back.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly. “Now that you’ve officially lived a little?”

She answered his smile with one of her own, surprisingly comfortable, given the circumstances. She would have thought she’d be feeling shy and wrong-footed.

“Truthfully, that felt a little more like dying than living,” she quipped. “But you’ll hear no complaints from me.”

His bark of laughter made her stomach flutter.

She was dangerously close to really liking this man. And that wouldn’t do.

Ophelia was far too inexperienced and unworldly to extract herself from him and this evening in any sort of sophisticated manner. Not least because she really didn’t want to!

But the last thing a man like the marquess would want was an infatuated, inexperienced miss hanging around him.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I suppose that I should be on my way then,” she said, trying and most likely failing to sound nonchalant.

The smile immediately disappeared from his face and for a moment, Ophelia could have sworn he looked almost disappointed.

But within seconds, it was firmly back in place.

“And why should you do that?” he asked, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her lips.

To Ophelia’s shock, the embers of her desire sparked to life again at the action.

“Well, I – I thought we were done,” she answered frankly.

His look turned positively wolfish.

“Done?” he repeated softly. “Sweetheart, we’ve only just begun.”