Page 55 of Fated By Fire
I sob against Caleb’s chest, my tears soaking into his shirt. His arms tighten around me, solid and strong as the last threads of hope I’ve been clinging to for twenty years unravel.
“She’s gone.” The words tear from my throat. “All this time, I kept thinking—” Another sob cuts me off. “I checked missing persons databases. Called hospitals. Hired other PIs.” My fingers curl into his shirt. “I even went to psychics. Real ones, fake ones, anyone who might have answers.”
The memory of all those desperate attempts hits me afresh. Every Christmas, I’d imagine her walking through the door withsome wild explanation. Every birthday, I’d wonder if this would be the year she’d finally come back.
“I made up so many stories.” My voice breaks. “That she had amnesia. That she was in witness protection. That she…” I can’t finish.
Caleb’s hand strokes my hair, and for once, I don’t flinch from someone’s touch.
“I kept her clothes. Her perfume bottle. Everything she left behind, just in case.” The words spill out between gasps. “I thought if I just looked hard enough, if I just tried harder—”
A fresh wave of grief crashes over me. Caleb just holds me, letting me pour out two decades of pain against his chest. The hope I’ve carried all these years was the only thing keeping me going sometimes. Now it’s gone, leaving a raw, bleeding hole where my heart should be.
“She never abandoned me,” I whisper. “She was going to come back, wasn’t she?”
“I’m so sorry, Elena,” he whispers. I lift my face to his, gazing into eyes that seem to see my pain, to feel it as deeply as I do. And then we’re kissing. It’s gentle—slow and deep, filled with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. His hands frame my face as he deepens the kiss, and I melt into him, letting the heartache fade into the background.
His hands touch me softly as he guides me down onto the mattress, and I reach up to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair.
He hovers over me, his breath hot against my skin as he dips his head to kiss my neck. I shiver as his lips trail lower, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin. I want to feel more of him, now.
With eager hands, I start to pull his shirt over his head, my eyes lifting up to meet his. His expression is intense, burning with a mixture of desire and an emotion that makes my hearttwist in my chest. He helps me tug the shirt off, revealing the strong, muscled expanse of his chest. The dragon tattoo that stretches across his shoulder and back shimmers in the firelight, and I reach out to trace it with my fingertips.
“God, Elena…” Caleb’s breath catches at my touch, and he closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, the heat in his gaze has intensified. He sits back on his heels and slowly starts to remove my shirt, his fingers deft and sure. I lift my arms, holding my breath as the fabric slides over my head to reveal my simple cotton bra. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight, and I feel a surge of desire mixed with a rush of vulnerability.
I swallow hard and sit up, reaching for the buttons on his pants. He shifts his hips to help me, and I feel the hard lines of his body as I pull the fabric down. I gnaw on my lip as I take in the defined contours of his abdomen, the trail of dark hair that leads down toward his cock.
My eyes lock there, taking him in. I pause, suddenly self-conscious, and his hand covers mine, stilling my movements.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “We don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I interrupt, finishing the job of pushing his pants down. He lets me, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he’s helping me out of my own pants, his hands gentle but deliberate.
Soon, we’re both naked, skin flushed and hearts pounding. I kneel on the bed, taking in the sight of his body in front of me. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows across his hard planes, and I reach out to trace the lines of his tattoo again. Caleb groans at my touch, his eyes fluttering closed.
“You’re perfect,” I whisper, hearing the awe in my own voice. I’ve never seen a man quite like him. Not in the flesh, at any rate. And he wants me.
I feel powerful in this moment—powerful and desired. I let my hands wander, exploring the contours of his chest, the ridges of his taut belly. When my fingertips brush the trail of hair that leads to the dark triangle that frames his cock, he pulls in a sharp breath.
“Keep touching me,” he whispers, his eyes opening to burn into mine.
I stroke him, running my fingers up and down the hard length of his shaft. He’s already rock-hard, and a drop of moisture beads at the tip, which I smooth over with my thumb. His eyes squeeze closed, and his breath shudders. I lean down and press a soft kiss to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, relishing the way he trembles beneath my touch.
Then I push him back against the mattress, a glint of challenge in my eyes. A heartbeat passes before he gives in, a slight smile playing on his lips as he lets me take control. I straddle him, my knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips as I grasp his cock and guide the thick head along the line of my slick lips. Slowly, I lower myself onto him, my eyes never leaving his.
The tip of him teases me, and I let out a soft gasp as I sink down further, taking him inside me inch by inch, my pussy expanding around his thick girth. Our eyes are locked, and I see the same blend of desire and longing swirling in the heated depths of his gaze.
Finally, I settle onto him fully, filling myself with his hard length. We both groan at the sensation, and he reaches up to grasp my waist, steadying me. I stay still for a moment, adjusting to the delicious feeling of being stretched around him.
I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of his head, and begin to move. Slowly, at first, just little rolls of my hips that make him groan. His hands flex on my hips, like he wants to guide me but is holding back, letting me set the pace.
I start to move faster, a rhythm that makes the headboard knock gently against the wall, creating a steady beat that matches the pounding of my heart; that strange twin sensation like a second beat thrumming behind my breastbone. His hands slide up my back, and he pulls me down so my breasts brush against his chest with each movement. The coarse hairs there tease my nipples, tightening them into throbbing peaks.
“Elena,” he breathes, his eyes hooded now, the lines of his face sharp with pleasure. I lean down and capture his lips in a kiss, tangling my tongue with his as I continue to move above him. My hair falls forward, curtaining us in a dark, intimate cocoon.
I break the kiss and rise, rotating my hips in a slow grind that has sparks flaring through me. The sensation is building to the point that I’m struggling to control my movements, panting slightly as I throw my head back.
“Oh! God, Caleb!” I gasp as the pleasure coils tighter inside me, setting my nerves alight. He watches me, his eyes hungry, and his thumbs brush the sensitive spots just below my hips, making me shiver.
