- Caleb -
"Son of a bitch!" I yelled, wanting to throw the pot of boiling water that had just splashed out and burned the living fuck out of my hand.
It was simple—or it should've been. A quick, easy alfredo. But it wasn't quick. And it wasn't easy. Not today. Not while I was nervous as all hell, knowing Rachel would be at my door in mere minutes.
I groaned down at my hand and shook it off, turning the heat down on the burner. The last time I tried to show off the cooking skills I learned over the last near-decade also hadn't gone well. Mostly because I'd ended up between Rachel's legs and entirely forgotten the food.
My dick jumped to life at the memory.
"For fuck's sake," I groaned, wiping my good hand down my face. "Focus, Caleb. It's just Rachel. It's just—yeah, this isn't working."
I was shaking, despite my piss-poor attempt to calm myself. I threw the noodles into the water and stirred the sauce, trying and failing to ignore the trembling that was wracking my body.
When I heard a knock, I froze. God, it was like a first date all over again. She hadn't known it, but I'd about lost my head on that walk to the diner all those years ago.
When she knocked again and I realized I was still an idiot of a statue in my kitchen, I realized just how little had changed.
"Caleb?" Rachel's voice jerked me back.
"Shit," I whispered to myself and cleared my throat. "Door's open!"
"Hey, I—Holy fuck, it smells good in here."
I chuckled, though her reaction helped minutely in the nerves department. I felt her without turning, knowing she'd planted her perfect ass on the arm of the couch, watching me from afar. Like she was worried about getting too close. I frowned at the thought and tried to push it away.
"How'd your appointment go?" I offered, unsure what it had even been for.
The possibility of one specific type had been running rampant in my mind all day. And if I was being honest with myself, I knew it was the largest part of why I was so finicky now.
When Rachel came back with a quick, nonchalant, "Good," I wanted to beat my head against the wall.
What the hell was I supposed to say back?
'Good'? 'Great'?
'Are you pregnant?'
I dropped the spatula in the sauce at the image of Rachel, naked and pregnant in bed. In the shower. On the couch. Smiling. Laughing. Living and loving.
Under me, above me, and every and any which way she'd let me have her.
Jesus Christ, the woman was my walking fantasy. And apparently had given me a breeding kink.
"Caleb!"
"Boy!" I panicked at how close Rachel had gotten without my knowing, yelling the word and tossing the Parmesan over my shoulder. Thankfully, the wedge had still been enclosed in its plastic.
"Uh," Rachel's brow lifted and head cocked to the side before she bent down to grab the cheese. She set it safely on the counter. "What?"
I suddenly stopped caring about dinner. About impressing her with food or being nervous for the night.
Instead, I searched her eyes for anything and everything. A sign that she wasn't happy to be here with me, a message that said she wanted out.
I found none.
Leaning down, my hands gripped on either side of her jaw, holding her there while my lips slanted over hers. I pressed my tongue into her mouth, taking her, claiming her, owning her just as she had done to me for countless years.
When I felt the moan that ransacked her body and her hands grab at the back of my neck, I gave way to my own needs and felt behind me blindly, turning the burners off entirely. Loosening my grip on her chin with little reluctance, I skimmed my hands down the curves of her body, curling around to cup her ass and lift her to me.
With a shriek and a smile against my mouth, Rachel wrapped her legs around my waist and let me carry her to the couch. But the moment I sat down, I had to force my eyes open. I had to force myself to see her—to see Rachel. I had to be sure it was her.
Somehow, she seemed to notice my sudden stumble.
"Caleb," she whispered, pulling away enough to let me see her fully. She smiled, a sweet, silent offer that I knew was in wait of the response I'd yet to give.
"Talk to me."
Rachel's cheeks grew red. "What?"
"Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you want me to do to you. Everything you want to do to me. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice."
My own was harsh, and the words were a near-beg. I wondered if they sounded as I knew them to be. I wondered if she knew why I needed this.
Reliving what had happened nine years before for the first time, I was afraid to shut my eyes. I was afraid to only be able to feel. To lose that connection, regardless of the fact that I knew who was in my arms this time. Leah hadn't said a word, hadn't made a sound until I'd finally pissed her off by saying Rachel's name.
Now...Now I needed to hear that voice. The one of my dreams and my love and my future. I needed the voice so that when I closed my eyes and let myself soak in the rapture I'd never have enough of, I could let go and just be.
"I want to hear you," I whispered the words again, skimming my thumb along the soft skin of her lower lip.
She kissed my finger slowly and nodded, pushing back to stand. In a mouthwatering show, Rachel undid the buttons of her top, taunting me when her fingers pressed under one side, a lacy black underthing-of-sorts teasing me. But the image was gone as swiftly as it had entered my vision when Rachel pulled her finger back and started working on the side zipper of her skirt instead.
Lucky for me, she pushed it down her sexy-as-sin legs and over the heels she'd chosen to keep on, revealing thigh-highs beneath.
Unlucky for me—rather, my stamina—she shrugged the shirt from her shoulders and was suddenly standing in the lingerie I'd gotten her weeks ago. Black lace with red bows to cover her hard nipples, I would've fallen to my knees before her if I hadn't already been sitting. When she skimmed her nails up her torso to her barely-covered tits, then back down towards the dessert I wanted to feast on between her legs, I slid from the couch and did drop to my knees.
I had no shame admitting that at this rate, if she continued, I'd never last.
"Caleb!"
Rachel laughed and went to step back, but I was a starving man. And she was my salvation.
I wrapped my arms around her legs and kissed her pussy through the thin cover of material. When she gasped and her nails dug into the short curls atop my head, I took it as the green light to dive in. Pulling the slight piece of lace aside, I gripped tighter with my other arm around her thighs and pulled her closer to my face. I wanted her to ride it. Fuck it. I needed to taste her; so I did.
The moment my tongue slid between her folds, I groaned. With her nails scraping at my head and the little mewls leaving her throat, spurring me on, I flicked my tongue over her clit.
Just as I was about to pull back and remind her what I wanted, Rachel seemed to read my mind.
"Fuck yes. That feels good," she said, nearly breathless.
If her words hadn't been enough, the kneading at my scalp solidified it.
Had I been a stronger man, I'd have let her stand there and wear that perfect outfit and sat back and watched her do so. But I wasn't. I was weak, and I was harder than stone. So I guided her legs around my shoulders and stood with calculated focus, sure to not lose my shit and make us both fall.
Rachel squealed and grabbed onto my head to hold on, laughing when I had her fully in the air and turned back for the couch. I leaned down and dropped her onto it, but I didn't give a moment for Rachel to situate her position before diving back between the legs I wore as earmuffs.
I drove her to the brink of insanity—at least that was what I'd gathered from the moans that had turned to screams and the grip her legs had on my head that had me nearly ready to pass out. Not that it would've stopped me.
"Fuck! Caleb," Rachel began to beg. "Please. God, I need you. Fuck me, please!"
I gave a final pass of my tongue through her pussy and sucked her clit past my lips, pulling one final scream from her before I stood and made quick work of my clothes.
It was a conscious effort to not let my legs shake again. To not overthink my every move as I sat on the couch and guided my girl onto my lap. But as much as I knew the question was roaming behind her eyes, I also knew it wasn't something we needed to say. It was something I needed to do. The last time we'd been in this position, I'd thrown her off, dredged in a nightmare that had been a vicious reality.
But this time...This time, I refused to take my eyes off of Rachel as I held her lacy panties aside. As she sank down onto me. As she looked right back.
She began to rock her hips, lifting herself up and down by her knees on the couch, taking me deeper and deeper at the pace she wanted. I felt my eyelids flutter shut, and at that moment, she spoke, giving me the voice I needed to be able to let go.
"You feel so good." She moaned the words to me. "I could come just like this. Right now. I could."
My lips curled into a half-smirk. It was all it had taken for me to breathe, and the moment I did, my hands gripped at Rachel's hips and I slammed up to meet her thrusts.
"Fuck!" she screamed, grabbing for my shoulders to hold on.
"God, I missed this," I groaned, my hands roaming every lace-covered inch of her. I looked down, watching my cock sink into her pretty little pussy. I slowed my movements and held her from bouncing faster.
"Caleb," Rachel whimpered, biting her lip as her head fell back on her shoulders.
"Goddamn, that's pretty. Fuck yes, baby, fuck me back." She fought my hold on her hips, desperate to move faster. Desperate for more friction.
I pulled out, decidedly having had enough of the light edging for us both. I'd gotten what I needed from the position on the couch and wanted the space and comfort of the bed. So I stood with Rachel in my arms and made my way to the other room.
When I set her on the bed, I stood at the end, palming my cock. The image of her pregnant danced through my head again. I shuddered, my dick pulsing in my hand. Her chest rose and fell with dragging movements under the harsh breaths she was heaving, the lingerie she wore leaving very little to my rampant imagination.
I had to make her come, because fuck if I wasn't going to at a mere image in my own damn mind. But the fucked up part that was running wild wanted to stay here. It wanted to watch from this distance.
"Finger yourself, little slut. Like you did weeks ago. Play with yourself. I want to watch you come."
Rachel shivered but slid her hand down the length of her body, taking no time for her neglected tits.
"Stop," I ordered, surprised when she listened immediately. "Your nipples. Play with them. I want to see you play with them first."
Pushing the thin lace aside, her breasts fell out of the lingerie that had been holding them. Rachel's fingers plucked and pulled, her back arching with each touch. She whispered my name, a string of curses to follow. Even with minimal lighting in the room, I could see the skin turning rosy. She clenched and clamped her thighs, and I relented, too close myself to stop her too.
"Fuck yourself. Be a good girl for me. That's it, just like that."
Rachel's screams filled the air the moment her slender fingers circled her clit. She tipped her head back and arched her back again, working herself closer towards the edge.
"I want you," she moaned. "I want you in my mouth."
I stumbled a step but made quick work of the distance, happy as hell to have her mouth on me. My hand tunneled into her hair as she took me in an instant to her throat.
"Fuck yes," I groaned, grabbing with my free hand for the headboard.
With each suck and lick around the head of my cock, Rachel's fingers slid through her folds or circled her clit. When my hips started to move faster and her own hand moved harder, I shut my eyes and tipped my head back, lending myself to the rapture taking over my senses.
"Come on. Come for me. Scream around my cock as you come for me like a good little slut."
As soon as she screamed, her throat enclosing around the head and pushing me over the edge with her, I was a goner. That damned image shot through my head again, and I couldn't help myself. I pulled out from her wicked lips and stroked myself twice more, breathing roughly as my cum shot out and onto Rachel's lace-covered stomach. I'd wash that outfit and do it a million times over without a care in the world. It was made for her.
"God, that's fucking sexy."
She smiled and lifted her hand, running the slick arousal coating her fingers down my stomach. I chuckled, rocking slightly on my feet before helping her up for a quick shower. Rachel joined me, sighing when I washed her body, smirking when I got on my knees for her again—this time to wash her legs, though it wasn't an easy feat to not lean forward and taste her again.
When we finally got to dinner, I was thankful as hell that the sauce was salvaged, and that I had enough noodles leftover to toss the ones that had entirely overcooked while sitting in the water before. I sat back in my chair, watching the brunette across from me eat her pasta with a happy twinkle in her eye. When she started doing a little rocking dance in her seat, I laughed.
Such a strange feeling. So foreign after overthinking so long, yet still so easy around her. I reached for my wine glass, wrinkling my nose at the choice of beverage she'd made. Though even I had to admit that it wasn't horrendous with the pasta.
But while she'd poured a glass for each of us, I couldn't help but notice that she hadn't yet touched her own.
"Can I ask you something?"
Rachel's eyebrows raised. "You just did," she tittered a laugh as she threw my own usual words back at me.
"Har har," I rolled my eyes.
She just laughed again. "What is it?"
"Are you pregnant?"