Page 108 of Dial L for Lawyer
"You want it right here?" he murmurs. "On my kitchen counter?"
"I want it everywhere," I say, meaning us. Meaning him. Meaning all of it.
He hooks his fingers in the elastic at my hips, then pulls my underwear down and drops them on the floor. Our breathing is loud in the quiet kitchen. As he peels away the last of my clothes, it feels less like undressing and more like shedding years of hiding, of doubt, of thinking no one would ever want the real me.
"God, I love seeing you here like this."
His eyes take in all of me. He takes his time, fingers teasing at first, thumb light on my clit while his other hand holds my head steady so I don't tip right off the counter. When he finally slides two fingers inside, he goes deep and slow, watching my face the whole time. It feels like the most honest conversation we've ever had, except it's happening through touch instead of words.
"Look at me," he says, and I do. The look in his eyes is so open I could cry.
I come fast, almost embarrassingly quick, and when I go limp against him, he catches me as I slump forward.
"Bedroom," he says, scooping me up easily, my legs dangling as I hold onto his neck.
I nod, dazed and happy as he carries me through the apartment. His arms don't even shake as he holds me against his chest. I feel weightless, precious, like something worth protecting instead of hiding.
He shoulders open the bedroom door. City lights filter through the windows, casting everything in a soft glow. He sets me on my feet lays me on the bed gently, like I might break. The lights make him a silhouette as he stands above me, and for once, I don't feel the need to cover myself or hide.
"You're perfect," he says, voice rough with want.
His fingers trace every curve, every mark, every place I've spent years hating. Somehow his touch makes them beautiful. He undresses slowly, eyes never leaving mine, and I watch without shame. He's gorgeous in the low light, all lean muscle and focused intensity. When he's finally naked, he doesn't immediately cover me with his body. Instead, he kneels between my legs and starts a slow journey up—lips and tongue and teeth making me arch and gasp.
"Caleb," I whimper as he pays special attention to my soft stomach. His mouth is so gentle there, almost worshipful, and tears prick my eyes at the tenderness.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin. "Every inch of you."
I want to argue, to deflect with humor, but his sincerity stops me. He works his way up to my breasts, taking his time with each one until I'm writhing beneath him, desperate for more. His teeth graze my nipple and I gasp, arching into his mouth.
"Please," I whisper, not even sure what I'm begging for.
He smiles against my skin, then kisses his way up to my neck, my jaw, finally taking my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath. I feel him hard against my thigh, but he's in no hurry. He seems happy to explore every inch of me with his hands and mouth. I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he resists, keeping that maddening space between us.
"Caleb," I plead, digging my fingers into his shoulders. "I need you. Now."
He reaches up and captures my wrists, pressing them into the mattress above my head. The control in his movements makes me shiver.
"Don't move," he commands, his voice a dark rumble that goes straight through me.
He releases my wrists and pulls back. I'm confused until I see him lean toward his nightstand.
"What's in the drawer?" I ask, watching him.
"Options."
"If you pull out a sex toy, I'm leaving."
“You don’t like toys?”
“I do. But I don’t know where that thing has been.”
He chuckles as he produces a silk tie, sliding it through his fingers. "Not a toy."
"You want to tie me up?"
"I want to worship you." His eyes are serious. "To show you exactly how perfect you are when you let go of your control."
My breath catches. "That's playing dirty."
