Livvie got in the car and slammed the door. She tried to hide it, but Caleb saw the way she winced and rubbed her collarbone.
“Happy? Have we taught the door a lesson?” Caleb taunted through a gentle laugh.
Her eyes narrowed in his direction, her rage unmistakable. “I can’t believe what you did to those people Caleb. You’re just...never mind. Can we just go please?”
Caleb’s ire, dormant because of his unexpected orgasm earlier, now rose to the surface. “Which part can’t you believe?” he snapped, jamming the key in the ignition of the stolen car and turning it. “The part where I rescued you from a bunch of would-be rapists that beat you half to death? Or perhaps the part where – at great risk to myself – I kidnapped a doctor to help save you? Which part is it, because I’d like to know which of those things I should never do for you again?” He threw the vehicle in gear and took off. For a moment, he didn’t care Livvie had been jostled in her seat.
Silence.
Caleb sat back, satisfied. It wasn’t like he killed them. The doctor and his wife were free to live their lives, no worse for wear. Livvie had been mortified to find the couple exactly as he had left them the night before – taped to their dining room chairs. Granted, the fact they had urinated on themselves during the course of the evening was distasteful, but they were otherwise unharmed. In a different situation, he might not have let them off so easy. He wondered how Livvie would have reacted to such a thing.
“Thank you,” Livvie muttered from the passenger seat.
“For what?” Caleb was still irritated.
“For saving my life. Even if you’re just going to put it in danger again,” she whispered.
Caleb had no response. It was exactly what he was going to do. Drive her to Tuxtepec, bring her to Rafiq, train her, sell her…lose her forever.
And kill Vladek. Don’t forget that part.
The thought didn’t assuage the guilt taking up residence inside him. His heart was heavy, his thoughts scrambled. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to show weakness. All the turmoil within him had to be hidden, from every one.
“You’re welcome, Kitten,” he scoffed. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kitten swipe at her eye and flick her tears toward the floor of the car. Ruining my life!
Things had been so much easier in the shower, easier when it was just the two of them and the outside world seemed irrelevant and beyond the reach of his thoughts. The world was in the car with them now and it was Kitten who seemed beyond reach.
After she’d made him feel more pleasure than he’d ever had – with a hand job, no less – he’d reveled in soaping her skin, watching intently as water sluiced over the taut peaks of her nipples, down the slopes of her tan belly and hips, and descending past the raven triangle between her thighs. He’d touched her there as well, sifted his fingers through her sparse hair until he felt her slippery flesh part under his fingers. It was like opening a flower, her petals pink and vibrant, shiny with dew and lust.
He’d knelt before her, worshipful. She’d opened for him, hungry, full of want. His every sense had been engaged and focused on her. He could smell her arousal, he could see the way her flesh darkened, and against his fingers he had felt her tremble, he had heard her soft whimpers. She had begged him to taste her. Slowly, he had licked her tiny bud.
Oh! How she had wanted him.
She’d spread wider and placed her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.
“Beg me,” he’d whispered the words against her.
“Please, Caleb. Please, lick me.”
He’d obeyed. One long, wet, lick across her open petals.
She sobbed, “Again. Please. Again.”
“Say you want me to lick your *.”
She gripped his hair tighter, “Caleb!” she’d grated.
“Say it. I want to hear more filth from your mouth.”
She hesitated. Her hips rocked toward his mouth, but he’d do no more than kiss her with his lips.
“Please, Caleb. L-lick my…*.”
Nothing had ever turned him on more. He’d pushed her legs wide, cradling her thighs on his shoulders and pressed his face into her *. Lick her? He fucking devoured her.
Pain had no longer seemed to be an issue for her as she undulated and rocked her hips against his rapacious mouth. Her hands held his head, pushing him deeper, demanding more, even as he gave and gave.
When she’d come, her * had gripped his tongue. Wet, pulsing, flesh, fluttering against wet, pulsing, flesh. Her juices saturated his mouth, a rush of honey he not only swallowed, but sucked from her flesh long after she had begged him to stop.