It felt good, and there was something erotic about the coiled intensity and hot throbbing of his body as he pumped into her. She felt heavy and tense and breathless, but she didn’t feel an orgasm developing yet.

She raised her feet off of the sofa, pulling her knees toward her chest and allowing him to sink in even deeper, the solid substance of his cock stretching her, filling her.

He huffed out a sound of surprise and froze briefly, gasping hotly against the skin of her cheek.

Strangely proud of this evidence of his diminishing control, Kelly wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles to hold them stable.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, his body clenched, his arms shaking a little, his pelvis jerking in tiny, involuntary thrusts inside her.

Something tight was knotting up in her chest at his reactions, and she felt flooded with heat and confusion.

This felt different than the times they’d fucked before, and not just because Caleb seemed to be losing it.

“Caleb,” she breathed, pumping her hips against the weight of his body. “Caleb, please.”

With a muffled groan, he started thrusting again. Beginning slowly but quickly building up to a rapid, jerky rhythm again.

She could feel an orgasm swelling up below her belly, but it was still just the beginnings. The friction of his hard length as it slid slickly within her wet channel sent tingles out from their joining. And the shaking of the sofa, the sound of the leather, and the feel of its rubbing against her bare skin all seemed strangely concrete and visceral—primitive on the most basic level.

Caleb’s motion sped up until he was driving into her fiercely, and the slapping of their skin mingled with their panting and the squeaking of the sofa. But then he stopped, his eyes shut and his head jerked away from her.

“Caleb?” she gasped, her body shaking beneath him, from more things than she could process. She realized that she was digging the fingers of one hand into the sinews of his neck and so she forced herself to relax her grip. Instead, she clung desperately to the arm of the sofa behind her head.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. But he was breathing in heavy rasps, and his body was wet with perspiration under his clothes.

“Caleb,” she said again, this time her voice was an obvious plea. “Caleb, please.”

“Kelly,” he gritted out, his jaw clenched and his eyes almost desperate when he opened them. “Can you”—he paused to breathe—“I don’t know if I—”

Kelly tightened her legs and inner muscles around him in a way that made him groan. He tried to draw his pelvis away, sliding his cock out of her body, but her legs around him restricted his movement.

“Kelly,” he said thickly, his breath, his voice, wafting over the damp skin of her cheek.

She didn’t know why she wasn’t faking orgasm the way she had before. But for some reason she couldn’t seem to manage it now. Couldn’t tense up her body. Couldn’t release it in shudders and whimpers. She didn’t want to.

It felt like a lie.

“Maybe,” she answered hoarsely. “But it would take too long. I’m good.”

Caleb released a guttural sound and squeezed his eyes shut. He started to thrust again, moving slowly, almost stiltedly.

He was trying to hold out until she came too.

Kelly had no idea why.

But he was barely holding on, and something more powerful was happening right now than an orgasm. She tightened her inner muscles around the thick substance of him inside her, jerked her hips to create rapid friction.

She stroked down his back, feeling the fabric of his dress shirt until she reached his ass. She felt the muscles of his firm flesh there, and kept stroking until she was reaching between his legs.

She squeezed his balls.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, staring down at her face with something almost unbearable in his expression.

He came—and all of the coiled tension in his hard, heated body freed itself with a throbbing, shaking release.

She could feel his climax throughout her own body, and it made the ache in her throat, in her chest, and between her legs even deeper, even more insistent.

She was as leveled as she’d been from her most powerful orgasms, and she didn’t even know why.

Caleb had collapsed over her, his warm, sated weight pressing her into the leather of the sofa. His face was buried in her hair at the crook between her neck and shoulder. He was breathing rapidly, and she could feel his body relax and grow almost pliant in the silence.

If she could just make herself think strategically, she would know this was good. He hadn’t just come. He’d come against his will. She should be able to use it.

But she couldn’t seem to make herself think that way.

She accepted his weight for a minute, until emotion burned in her throat, in her chest. She poked him in the shoulder.

“You all right?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he breathed, with a huff of ironic, self-deprecating amusement.

“The condom,” she reminded him, feeling his cock softening inside her.

With an agonized moan, he pulled off of her, leaving her body feeling cold and shaky.

While he took care of the condom, she grabbed a soft throw and pulled it over her nakedness. She was rarely embarrassed or self-conscious by her unclothed body, but she felt strange and vulnerable at the moment, and was hoping the blanket would help.

When Caleb returned, he had fastened his pants again, leaving his shirt untucked. He lowered himself onto the sofa, slouching against the back of it. Kelly was perfectly comfortable curled up in a ball under the throw, but she didn’t resist when Caleb reached out and pulled her against him, draping his arm around her.

Truth be told, she really liked the way he was holding her.

He was silent for so long that Kelly felt anxious and unsettled. Finally, she asked, “You’re not going to beat yourself up, are you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “It wasn’t my most impressive performance.”

She shrugged. “Felt pretty good to me. I have no complaints.”

He gave her an impatient look.

She didn’t try to convince him any further. If he wanted to believe his performance had been a flop, she wasn’t going to go out of her way to persuade him otherwise.

It gave her a different kind of advantage—at least temporarily—and she needed every advantage she could get.

They sat together for a long time, and neither said anything. But Caleb didn’t pull away, and that really surprised her.

She just couldn’t figure out what was going on with him. The sex had obviously been real. His desire for her must be real. And he was definitely softening to her. But everything else—she had no idea.

“Why won’t you let me go down on you?” he asked, with no warning or segue.

She was so surprised she gave a little jump, until he settled her beside him again. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You don’t want me to go down on you. I was wondering why.”

She wasn’t ready for this conversation. She felt too vulnerable from her conflicted feelings, and she needed some time to recover emotionally before she could tell good lies again. All she could manage was a little shrug.

“Tell me.”

“Is it something everyone is supposed to like?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. But you won’t even let me try.”

He wasn’t whining or complaining. His tone was slow, thoughtful, putting clues together to solve a mystery.

It was terrifying, since she wasn’t sure what he might discover about her in the pursuit. He could expose her damaged soul.

“It’s just not my thing.”

“How do you know? Has anyone gone down on you before?”

She had no idea how he’d known to ask that question, but she was trembling slightly, so she pulled out from under his arm. “Of course,” she lied. “I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve had a lot of sex. You think I’ve made it this long without oral sex?”