Page 49 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
For seconds on end, I’m lost in its wave. Nothing else matters except for the tingling pulse that’s taken over my body.
It fades slowly, leaving me slick and speechless. I’m panting as I come down and blink as if drugged.
Caelian grins. His lips, his nose, his beard are all glossed with evidence of me.
In this moment, I’ve never found him sexier. My pussy throbs as if awakening all over again. As if begging formore.
He seems to read my mind. Grabbing my hand and helping me up off the table, he says, “Come,bella. Our bed’s calling us.”
FIFTEEN
Nevaeh
By the timewe make it up to our hotel suite I’m a fidgeting, nervous wreck. My belly roils and an uncomfortable lump has lodged itself in my slender throat. I can’t stop picking at my nail beds or fussing with the straps of my dress out of an anxious urge to do something, anything, with my hands.
Caelian’s every move exudes confidence. He commands deference. He overtakes the air to the point that his presence becomes the only thing that exists.
His hand comes to the small of my back and he guides us into our bedroom. It’s with the unspoken knowledge of what’s about to transpire between us. Another night spent in the bed where he’ll take me. He’ll have his way with me, and I’ll be left in tears.
In the dining room he said it would be different this time. He pried apart my legs and brought me a level of pleasure I didn’t know was possible. As we make our way up to our suite, I can feel the slickness between my thighs. Evidence he’s been there. His tongue and his fingers made me fall apart and my body wrack for seconds on end.
Yet, a part of me is still skeptical as he ushers me into our bedroom. Memories of the other times flood me and make me stiff as a board.
He’s always been so rough. So uncaring as he ruts away and I’m left to bear it.
Caelian seems to read my mind. Probably because my anxiety lives on my face and in my stilted movements. He weaves his thick fingers in my hair and draws my head back for a look up at him. His eyes are the same violent gray shade as every other time. Pools of torrential desire that warn of the storm that’s to come.
Peering down at me for what comes to be several charged seconds, he plants a kiss on my mouth. He speaks against my lips. “You have no idea,miabella ballerina. No idea how I’m about to consume you. I’m going to have you lying in a puddle of fucking cum by the time I’m through with you.”
My belly flutters in response. My lashes do too, fluttering in confused, borderline concerned blinks.
But there’s no time for questions. No time for me to voice my concern.
Caelian’s lifting me up off my feet with the ease of one bulging arm. Not for the first time making me feel like I weigh nothing. He’s so strapping and well-built that I’m like a toy in how he handles me.
From within the deep reservoir of my anxiety comes something else—a quick-rising sense of thrill that shoots through me. There’s something inexplicably arousing about how he’s plucked me off the ground and carries me over to our bed where I’m flung onto.
Maybe it’s the ease in which he does. Maybe the ravenous aggression that’s become its own presence in the room, different than the other times because it’s not just about him. As I land on the bed and push myself up, I’m on the receiving end of a stare that can only be called hungry.
Hungry for me.
For more than just his pleasure but mine too. The breath in my lungs has stalled. I watch as Caelian stalks toward the bed and then reaches for my thighs.
“I want this dress gone,” he says simply.
The fabric is split in half off my body, much like my panties earlier. I’m left fully bare for his viewing pleasure. Something he fully takes advantage of.
His gaze scorches a slow trail down my naked body. It’s like he’s pausing long enough to admire every feature, every unique quirk of mine. From the small swell of my breasts and dark, pebbled nipples to the way my flat belly quakes in anticipation, and how a soft V forms at my closed thighs.
He husks out a breath at the sight. His hand flies to the crotch of his pants as if it’s a mindless urge. He can’t help himself as he feasts his eyes on what’s waiting for him.
“Fuck,” he growls. “How have I not paused to appreciate this before? Look at you. So fucking sexy my dick’s aching,bella. Do you know how bad I want you right now?”
I can’t find my voice to answer him. I’m thrown by the sheer magnitude of his desire that’s heating my skin and making my heart thunder in my chest. He shucks off his button-up shirt and shoves down his pants. The impossibly long, veiny, borderline monstrous penis that’s brought me dread every other time makes its appearance.
He’s so…large. Big. Just shockingly huge in every way.
I should feel intimidated—and a small part of me still does—but there’s another part of me that’s throbbing away. Born from the same shudder of thrill from seconds ago and the thrill I’d felt the morning he’d kissed me outside the dance studio.