Your fingers twist into the sheets as he nudges your legs further apart, settling himself between them like he was meant to be there, like he has always belonged there.
He lowers himself between your legs, the heat of his breath sending a shudder racing through you. Then, with aching slowness, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. A mark. A claim. A plea.


A strangled sound escapes you—a sob of pleasure, of overwhelming need. Your feet find purchase against his shoulders, your thighs trembling as he hooks his arms beneath them and pulls you closer, anchoring you to his mouth.
The first stroke of his tongue is devastating.
A sharp gasp rips through you, your body arching involuntarily. Heat pools in your core, molten and restless, spreading outward in waves. The sensation is too much and not enough, the wet press of his mouth against you making your breath stutter.
His groan vibrates against your most sensitive nerves, a deep, guttural sound that sinks straight into your bones. His grip tightens on your thighs, thumbs pressing gentle circles into your skin as he devours you, slow and thorough, as if he’s making up for all the time lost.
Your thoughts fray at the edges, narrowing down to this, to him, to the slick heat of his tongue tracing patterns into your flesh. You wonder, fleetingly, how he feels down there at the altar of your body—like a sinner in the throes of repentance, offering himself up in devotion, desperate for absolution.
His fingers dig into your thighs as he spreads you wider, opening you to him completely. The hunger in him is palpable, a living, breathing thing, and the realization sends a fresh wave of arousal surging through you.
His face is slick with your arousal, his mouth working against you with unrelenting precision, his dark lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the act of worshiping you. And he's hard—achingly so, his erection straining against his stomach, untouched and neglected, as if nothing else in the world matters but this. But you.
A low, broken moan tumbles from your lips, your hands flying to his hair, tangling in the soft strands. You tug lightly, and he groans in response, the sound sending delicious vibrations coursing through you.
Your hips jerk instinctively, a desperate little whimper escaping you. You can feel the pleasure mounting, cresting, tightening like a bowstring about to snap.
"Caleb, Please." you gasp, voice reedy and thin, a warning wrapped in desperation.
 And Caleb is nothing if not obedient, his grip on you tightening as he groans and swirls his tongue. He wants this—wants to feel you shatter against him, to consume you whole, to drown in the evidence of your pleasure.
Two fingers slip inside you in a single, fluid motion, curling against that devastating spot that makes your vision go white.
And then—
You break.
Your climax rips through you with stunning force, pleasure seizing your muscles in a near-violent quake. A sob catches in your throat as you arch, your thighs trembling around his head, your hands fisting into the sheets as you cry out his name.
He doesn't stop.
Jesus Christ, He doesn’t stop.
He keeps licking, keeps drinking you down, prolonging your pleasure until you’re writhing beneath him, until the overstimulation becomes too much and you beg him, voice barely coherent.
Only then does he relent, slowing his movements, pressing one last reverent kiss against your swollen, pulsing center before finally pulling away.
He moves up your body like he’s returning home, trailing kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, up the column of your throat. By the time he reaches your lips, you’re still trembling, still shuddering through the aftershocks.
He captures your mouth in a kiss so deep it steals the breath from your lungs, his tongue tracing the shape of you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
When he pulls back, his forehead presses to yours, his breath uneven, his violet eyes molten with affection and desire.
"Did I do that well?" he wipes the back of his hand across his flushed face, voice playful despite the
breathlessness.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers threading through his hair. "Shut up," you whisper, pulling him back down into a kiss.