Harlot (6 page)

“My boots,” she murmured in confusion. Did he want her boots and stockings off too, or only her underthings? The boots wouldn’t be in the way, after all.

“Let me,” Caleb said, the tone of his voice more reminiscent of how he’d once spoken to her. And then he knelt at her feet.

His movement so startled her that her arms jumped up to fend him off, but he didn’t attack her. He only reached for her bootlace. The boot began to loosen, and Jessica stared down at the top of his head, at the tousled waves of his brown hair. The scruff on his face before he’d shaved it had been darker than she remembered, but his hair was the same color it had been two years before. Dark and golden at the same time. Her hands hovered over him, fingers spread.

When he brushed her ankle, she lifted her foot automatically so he could pull her boot off. His strong fingers were warm around her bones. The lamplight shifted in his hair.

Jessica touched him.

He froze in the act of setting her foot back on the floor. His hand stayed wrapped tight around her ankle as Jessica slipped her fingers into his hair. It was warm and soft, a contrast to the cruelty he meant to show her.

She’d never been free to feel him before, but she was a whore now, and she could act like one, so she twisted her fingers lightly into the strands, then smoothed them down. He sighed as she petted him, a deep, quiet exhalation that bent his head a little farther forward. His forehead touched her belly. He let it rest there as she stroked down to his neck.

Perhaps being his wife would have been like this. Touching him whenever she wanted. Feeling him relax into her. Knowing she was his, not because he’d bought her, but because she’d said yes to it all.

This would’ve been what it was like to get ready for bed after a long day. He’d kneel to help with her boots as he always did. He’d kiss her next, gently, and she’d melt into his arms and open for him. Her mouth, her legs, her heart. He would make it good and sweet and sacred.

Her hand cupped the back of his head. “Caleb,” she whispered.

He sighed again, his fingers sliding softly up the back of her calf to rest behind her knee. Then he raised his head to look at her. The lamplight caught so fiercely in his eyes that she thought they might have been wet with tears, but a moment later they narrowed with anger. He took another deep breath and bent his head to unlace her other boot. His movements were rougher now, jerking her foot forward an inch on the floor as he tugged at the knot.

She lifted her hands and didn’t touch him again. He rose and let her toe the second boot off herself.

“Now the rest of it,” he said tersely, sitting back on the bed as he slipped off his suspenders and began to unbutton his shirt.

Hurt twisted inside her, winding around her gut, her lungs, her heart.

She’d remembered for a moment what it had been like to love him. To know he’d never hurt her. But she’d made him hate her.
She’d
done that.

Jessica dipped her chin in acknowledgment, and she removed the rest of her underclothes as quickly as she could. First her shift, then her drawers, then she tugged her stockings down. The air of the room was cold on the warmest parts of her body. Her nipples hardened into painful buds. She covered them with one arm and shielded her private parts as best she could with the other.

She’d never been quite this nude before. Not with a man. But Caleb didn’t want protestation. He wanted her naked. Bare. She’d give him that.

She couldn’t look at him, but her ears strained for some sound. He was quiet for a long while as the hurt twisted tighter inside her. What was he thinking? Had he seen this before, or was it new? Had he visited whores? Should she be hurt if he had?

She didn’t even know if she wanted him to think her beautiful or if she wanted him as ashamed of her nudity as she was. Her body was no longer her temple. It was only a used vessel that could not be cleaned.

Just as the silence began to buzz in her ears, she heard the rustle of fabric. She dared a glance and saw that he’d removed his shirt. His wide shoulders looked startlingly large. The muscles in his arms bulged as he shifted. Hair covered his chest. He gestured her closer.

She knew this part, at least. She stepped into his reach and forced her rigid arms to give up some tension. She let one hand fall to her side and slid the other down to press against her stomach instead of her breasts.

He touched her, just as she’d expected. His fingertips moved over the side of her breast, and she cringed. But he didn’t grab her. He didn’t squeeze her or pinch her nipple. His fingers traced a slow circle over her skin, trailing goose bumps. He cupped the underside of her breast. Then his thumb feathered over her nipple. Once, then twice, the strange, soft feeling making her shiver.

He did the same with her other breast, his breath quickening, even as she held hers. His touch made her feel too…uncertain. She was filled up with fear and expectation and the horrible awareness that the parts of her body she’d kept hidden nearly her whole life were exposed. She wished the lamps were low. Wished it were pitch-black. Wished he weren’t watching as his tanned fingers spread over her white skin, the contrast a secret message that he should not be here. That she should not let him.

She finally inhaled, and his hands slid down, over her ribs to the softer curve of her hips. He’d shaped her hips just like that the last time he’d kissed her. Her whole body had tingled with excitement at the stolen touch. But there was nothing stolen about it now. She’d been bought and paid for.

His hands moved down to cup her backside. He made a noise, a soft moan as he squeezed her flesh and pulled her closer. She stumbled into him. His mouth caught her nipple. She cringed, waiting for it to hurt. And then…then it didn’t hurt. His mouth was warm and careful, his tongue circling her nipple lightly at first, then more firmly.

Jessica blinked rapidly, confused that this act could feel so different with him. Her hands, raised in alarm yet again, hovered over his head. When his mouth drew at her, she gasped. Then she fisted her hands in his hair and moaned.

*     *     *

Caleb was stunned by how
beautiful she was. He’d tried to picture her many times, of course. He’d jerked off to thoughts of her countless nights over the years, imagining the pink of her nipples or the dark hair between her legs. He’d wondered what she would let him do when they were married. If she’d let him see everything or she’d be too shy.

She wasn’t shy now. She stood naked before him as he tested the weight of her ass and sucked harder at that perfect pink nipple. God, the smell of her skin filled every dark place inside him and urged him to pull harder at the peak of her breast. She liked it. She actually fucking liked it as he worked her with his tongue.

Her fingers dug into his scalp and the soft sounds she made wrapped around him, leaving him dizzy.

Had she liked it this much with other men? The idea tormented him and got swept along in the blood that rushed to his cock. He nudged his knee hard against her thigh, forcing her legs apart. If she wanted to be fucked so much, he’d fuck her, damn it.

He slid one hand down her ass, his heart tripping over itself because he was about to touch her pussy. Her bare pussy, open to him. His fingers found the soft heat of her, and her groan snapped into a gasp as she jumped against him.

Caleb frowned. He’d expected to find wetness. He’d heard enough men brag about getting their women so damn wet that they’d nearly slid right off the bed. And Caleb didn’t have much experience with whores, but he distinctly remembered the searing pleasure of wet heat around his cock.

He hated that he even cared. His spit was wet enough. He could spit into his hand and grease his cock and fuck her as hard and long as he wanted. His cock throbbed at the idea. Yes. That would be enough.

“Lie down,” he said.

Jessica nodded, her hand going to cover her breasts as she stepped back, as if he hadn’t been sucking them a second before.

She skirted around him to the foot of the bed, the perfect paleness of her round ass catching his eye. Fuck, she was lovely. The loveliest whore he’d ever glimpsed.

His cock strained at his trousers. Caleb stood and unbuttoned his fly as Jessica slipped onto the bed and lay on her back. Legs together, she eyed him warily as he took his freed cock in hand.

He couldn’t help his groan as he stroked his prick, squeezing it hard to offset the ache. Jessica’s eyes widened as she watched him, and something fierce and ugly in him felt satisfied at that.
Yes,
he wanted to say,
look at my cock. Know that it’s about to fuck you
. He ground his teeth to hold back the words, though he didn’t know why he bothered. He’d paid for the right to say anything he wanted.

Easing her legs apart with one knee, he put his weight to the mattress and knelt over her, straddling her white thigh. He realized he hadn’t removed his trousers, and he didn’t care enough to stop. He kept stroking himself, and she kept her eyes on him. He could come like this, he realized. Paint her with his seed while she watched. The idea of it slammed through him, that he could do something so degrading with this woman he’d once loved.

But not this time. This time he wanted inside her.

He spit into his hand and stroked his cock again. Her breathing quickened, small breasts rising and falling faster now.

Just to be sure, he licked his fingers and spread his saliva over her too. Her hips bucked against him. He slowed his movement and rubbed his spit more thoroughly into her pussy.

Jessica gasped, and her thighs parted a fraction of an inch more. He could see the pink of her now, a glimpse of it between her dark red curls, and he found himself fascinated by the sight. He dragged his fingers along her, startling a little when she moaned. He touched that spot again, and Jessica whimpered, her hand twisting into the bedding. Her knees fell open.

Now she was wet of her own accord. He could see the deep pink lips of her spread pussy and the shine of moisture there. Dipping his fingers into her, he closed his eyes at the shock of heat. He stroked her there, over and over, returning to the spot that made her gasp every time. “You like this,” he whispered in surprise.

The knowledge was a hot sword through his chest. He’d been afraid to touch her for so many years, but
this
was what she was.

He pushed her thighs wide with a curse and notched his cock against her hot, wet pussy. He sank deep, driving into her in one thrust that shoved a cry from her throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he drove in again. “Look at me,” he ordered as her heat seared him. He wanted her to know it was him, not some fancy man from Denver come for a night of sin. “Look at me while I fuck you.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Caleb had to force himself to slow or he’d come in three strokes. He’d waited a lifetime for this, and though it wasn’t what he’d planned for, it was all he’d get.

Holding himself up on his hands, he pulled almost all the way out before he slowly sank deep again, watching the way her mouth opened on a breath. Her eyes held his gaze, and God, he was lost for a moment. He could imagine that he hadn’t paid for this. That it was good and right. Her blue eyes shimmered in the lamplight, and it might have been love that made them sparkle. Maybe her pretty pink nipples were hard because he’d worshiped them as her husband. Maybe she’d never spread her legs for another man.

He held himself deep inside and lowered his chest until his body was pressed to hers, and then he kissed her. Amazingly, he remembered the taste of her. The tormenting, singular taste of her as her lips softened beneath his. He licked at her, and her mouth opened for him. Caleb groaned as he touched his tongue to hers.

God, yes. It felt just like the first time they’d kissed, only now he was inside her, his cock buried in her pussy, her heat squeezing him.

Jessica’s arms wound around his back, and oh, God above, that was sweet. Her nails dug into him as he took her mouth and pussy and made them his. He kissed her more thoroughly, fucked her more slowly, wanting it to last forever. It was beautiful. Right. They could’ve had this every night if she’d only waited. They could’ve had
this
.

Anger blossomed inside him. Caleb tore his mouth away and pushed up on his hands. Her nails scratched him as he pulled back, the pain making him buck against her and thrust deep. He did it again and again, fucking her hard enough to make her cry out with each thrust. Fucking her in a way he never would have dared, except she hadn’t waited. Not for him. The sound of skin against skin satisfied his rage.

“Fuck,” he muttered as the awful pleasure swelled his cock and drew his balls tight. “Fuck yes. Yes.”

He came hard, feeling the pulse of it as he emptied his seed into her. “Yes,” he growled one last time, still fucking her, hoping she could feel the way he filled her up.

The anger receded as if he’d emptied himself of rage instead of come. Caleb stilled. Opened his eyes.

He expected to find her face turned from him, but Jessica hadn’t looked away. She still watched him, her lips parted in shock. A tear slipped from her eye and disappeared into the hair at her temple. Her pupils were wide and black, her mouth wet and red.

Caleb pulled from her body and got up to back away from the bed.

He buttoned his pants and snatched up his shirt from the floor before she’d closed her legs. He scrubbed a hand over his head in an attempt to erase the vision of her beneath him, watching as he tried to hurt her.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said as he stuffed his shirttail into his trousers and tugged up his suspenders. “Remember, you’re not to entertain anyone else.”

She didn’t answer. She only pulled the blankets over her naked body.

Caleb shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his coat. He escaped into the dark hallway and didn’t look back at her face aglow in the night.

‡