Page 46 of Fated By Fire

“It’s a coincidence,” he says firmly, but I can see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“A coincidence?” I snap, my temper flaring. “You expect me to believe that? After everything I’ve seen? After thatthingI saw in the cellar? You think I’m just going to chalk this up to acoincidence?”

He steps closer, his eyes intense. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Elena. You don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Then tell me!” I shout, my voice cracking. “Tell me what’s going on, Caleb! Because I’m tired of being in the dark. I’m tired of being afraid. My mother disappeared twenty years ago, and for the first time, I feel like I’m close to finding out what happened to her. And if Craven Industries has anything to do with it—ifyouhave anything to do with it—I need to know.”

He stares at me, his expression unreadable, but I can see the conflict in his eyes. For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me the truth—whatever that truth might be. But then he shakes his head.

“Your mother’s disappearance has nothing to do with Craven Industries,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Elena, but you’re wrong.”

The anger in me dissolves into something else—something raw and aching. I think about my mom, about the photo in the archives, about the unanswered questions that have haunted me for years.

“What if she’s dead?” I whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “What if she’s dead, and I never get to know what happened to her? What if she ran into… into afreaklike I saw yesterday, and it killed her?” I bite back a sob.

Caleb hesitates, and for a moment, I see a shift in his expression—empathy, maybe, or understanding.

“I know what it feels like,” he says quietly, his voice softer now. “To lose a parent. My mother died giving birth to us. And my father…” He trails off.

I look up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. For the first time since I’ve known him, he doesn’t seem like the cold, calculating CEO. He seems… human.

We’re standing close now, closer than I realized, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. His scent—smoky and masculine—fills my senses, and I feel a sudden, inexplicable pull toward him.

Before I can stop myself, I reach up and touch his face, my fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. He stiffens, his eyes locking on mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stop.

And then he kisses me.

It’s not like the kisses before—rough and desperate, fueled by adrenaline and frustration. This is different. It’s slow, almost tender, a sweet exploration… and it sends a ripple of pleasure through my skin. His hands come up to cup my jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, and I melt into him.

I don’t know who deepens the kiss—maybe both of us—but suddenly, we’re pressed together, his body hard against mine, the ridge of his cock pressed against my belly, and I can’t think straight. His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me closer, and I feel a heat building inside me that I can’t ignore.

We stumble backward, still kissing, until the back of my legs hit the couch. He breaks the kiss long enough to pull my hoodie over my head, his hands skimming my bare arms, and then his mouth is on mine again, hot and demanding.

I push his jacket off his shoulders and then fumble with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers trembling. He helps me, shrugging it off and tossing it aside. His chest is bare now, his skin warm and smooth under my hands, and I can feel the hard planes of his muscles as I run my fingers over them.

There’s a wave of dark ink over his skin, the strange scale pattern I saw in the gloom of that room last night. A dragon that spans his chest and shoulder and trails down his back ripples as his muscles shift. I find myself wanting to trace those mesmerizing patterns, but I’m too busy admiring the lean perfection of his body.

He pushes me back onto the couch, his body following mine, and I gasp as his weight settles over me. His hands are everywhere—touching, caressing, driving me wild—and I arch into him, my breath coming in short gasps.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until he pulls back, his eyes dark with concern.

“Elena,” he murmurs, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Are you okay?”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and pull him back down to me. I don’t want to think—not about my mom, not about the vault, not about anything. I just want to feel.

He kisses me again, his lips firm and insistent, and I melt into him, my hands tangling in his hair. His hands slide under my tank top, his fingers warm and slightly rough as they trace the curve of my waist. I gasp as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin just below my ribs, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth with a hunger that makes me weak.

I tug at the waistband of his pants, my fingers trembling with anticipation, and he obliges, pulling them down and kicking them aside. His black briefs follow, and I can’t help but stare at the hard length of his cock. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s a thing of beauty. He steps closer, his hands sliding up my sides, and I feel the heat of his body even through the thin material of my tank top.

He pulls the shirt over my head, and I’m left in just my bra, the cool air brushing against my skin. His hands areeverywhere, cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through the lace, and I moan, moving into his touch. He unhooks my bra with practiced ease, and I feel a rush of cool air as it falls away, leaving me completely exposed to him.

His mouth finds my neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire as he works his way down to my collarbone. I can feel the scrape of his stubble against my skin, and it only heightens the sensation. His hands glide down to my hips, and he pulls me closer, grinding against me, and I can feel his rigid shaft pressing against my stomach. I spread my thighs, welcoming him between them.

“God, yes,” he moans against my skin.

I reach between us, my hand wrapping around his thickness, and he groans, his hips bucking into my touch. I stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety skin and the way he pulses in my hand. He’s so hard, so ready, and I can’t wait any longer. I guide him to me, sliding the thick head of his cock between my slick pussy lips. With a firm nudge, he slides into me with a groan, filling me completely.

The sensation is overwhelming, the way he stretches me, the way he feels so deep inside me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he starts to move, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that drives me wild.

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