Page 70 of Dial L for Lawyer
My blood turns to ice even as my body burns.No. Not this. Not yet.
His hands find the laces of the corset as he drives up into me, fingers working with surprising dexterity even as he's fucking me from below.
"Caleb," I cry, but it's half protest, half plea. The champagne makes everything fuzzy at the edges, but not fuzzy enough to silence the alarm bells.
"Need to see you," he growls against my throat. "All of you."
All of me. The words echo like a threat. All the parts I've hidden. The stretch marks. The loose skin. The evidence of who I used to be. My mother’s voice tries to needle in,"No one wants to see that, Serena."
The corset loosens with each pull of the laces, and the feeling of freedom combined with him hitting that perfect spot inside me is overwhelming. I should object—some part of me knows I should—but he's angling just right, and I'm so close to another orgasm that I can't form words.
This is it. The moment where he sees the truth and everything changes. Where I go from fantasy to reality. From the careful illusion to the disappointing truth.
"That's it, gorgeous," he murmurs, pulling the last of the laces free. "Let me see what's mine."
Fuck it. I'm tired of hiding. If this ruins everything, at least I'll know. At least I'll have been brave for once in my goddamn life.
“OK.”
The corset falls away completely, and I'm naked except for the dress bunched around my waist. His eyes are dark, hungry, taking in every inch of exposed skin as his hands come up to cup my breasts.
I wait for it—the flicker of disappointment, the polite look away, the gentle suggestion we pull down the blinds. Instead?—
"Fuck, you're perfect."
His words steal the air from my lungs, cause tears to sting the backs of my eyes.Perfect?But then he pinches my nipples and drags me right back into this moment, making me gasp and clench around him.
"The way you squeeze my cock when I do that—Jesus, Serena."
He sits up fully, changing the angle, going impossibly deeper. One arm wraps around my waist, holding me in place as he fucks up into me and I swear the world blacks out at the edges. The pressure, the depth, his hands, the relentless grind of his body under mine. I lose all sense of time, all decorum, all filters.
This isn’t just sex anymore. It’s an exorcism.
We fuck in frantic, reckless pulses, my sweat slick on his chest and his cock so deep in me I feel it everywhere, in my bones, in my teeth, in my hair. His hands knead my ass, then slip up to squeeze my waist, fingers buried in my flesh, and he matches every bounce with a thrust of his own so savage I nearly break. I'm beyond thought. Beyond words. I can only moan—high, crazed, animal moans—and ride out the pleasure like I'm surfing into the afterlife. I can't believe how greedy I am for him. How greedy I am to be seen. To be filled. To be accepted as I am.
"I can feel you getting close," he says against my breast before sucking a nipple in his mouth. "Your pussy's gripping me so tight."
"Caleb, I'm?—"
"I know, baby. Come for me. Want to feel you fall apart while I'm buried inside you."
His thumb finds my clit, circling with just enough pressure, and that's all it takes. I shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash through me. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, just fucks me through it until I'm sobbing from overstimulation.
"Too much," I gasp. "I can't?—"
"You can." He flips us suddenly, pressing me into the plush rug, my legs over his shoulders. "One more. Give me one more and I'll fill you up."
The new angle makes me see stars. The dress is probably ruined now, twisted and stretched out of shape, but I don't care. All I care about is the way he's looking at me—like I'm precious and filthy and his all at once.
"Touch yourself," he commands. "Show me how you make yourself come when you think about me."
I do. I show him—middle finger, perfect rhythm, two circles and a glide. It's dirty and exposed and makes my face burn, but I keep my eyes on him. The instant I start touching myself, his control shreds. His thrusts go harder, deeper, bruising in the best possible way.
"Christ, Serena. You are so fucking hot."
The heat and urgency sharpens, until the only thing I can think about is the way my body pulses around him and the animal need to keep him inside me forever. I rub my clit and watch him, jaw clenched and eyes ravenous, as he pounds into me with even more force.
"You're magnificent when you let go," he groans, voice raw. "When you stop thinking and just feel. You're perfect, Serena. You are fucking perfect."
