CRAVING DADDY'S BEST FRIEND

Chapter Twelve: A Beautiful Damnation

Abigail Macron

The metal keycard slipped from my fingers, hitting the thick carpeted floor with a silent thud that signaled the absolute closure of the outside world. Caleb didn't let me breathe. The moment my hands gripped the open fabric of his shirt, he leaned into me, his massive chest crushing my bare shoulders back against the solid mahogany door.

A low, jagged growl tore from his throat—a sound of pure, defeated surrender to a madness he had fought for two agonizing years. His mouth descended on mine with a brutal, bruising hunger that made my mind go completely blank. It wasn't the tentative friction of our first encounters; this was a desperate, lawless claim. He parted my lips with a fierce, demanding sweep of his tongue, tasting of the bitter, smoky Scotch he had been using to drown his conscience all evening.

I let out a broken whimper into his mouth, my hands moving on the fabric of his shirt, tearing the buttons free until my palms could flatten against the burning, sweat-slicked expanse of his bare chest. The contrast was intoxicating—the cool, liquid silk of my slip dress sliding against the raw, unyielding heat of his muscles. Every time his heart slammed against his ribs, I felt it echo inside my own core.

"Abby... God, Abby," he rasped against my mouth, his breathing a frantic, shallow sound in the dark suite. He tore his lips away for a fraction of a second, only to bury his face into the curve of my neck. His teeth nipped sharply at the sensitive skin right over my pulsing artery, making my entire body arch off the door in a spasm of pure, electric shock.

His large, calloused hands slid down my spine, the rough texture of his skin snagging against the expensive silk of my dress. He grabbed the hem, dragging the liquid fabric up my thighs until his fingers dug deep into the bare, sensitive skin of my hips. With an effortless, terrifying display of strength, Caleb lifted me completely off my feet. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, my heels digging into his lower back as he carried me through the darkness of the suite, never breaking the bruising rhythm of his mouth against mine.

He threw me onto the middle of the expansive king-sized bed, the dark room spinning around me as I sank into the plush mattress. Before I could even draw air into my burning lungs, Caleb loomed over me, his massive 6'4" frame completely eclipsing the neon glare of the Tokyo skyline bleeding through the glass. He shed his unbuttoned shirt and the loose trousers in one fluid, impatient motion, discarding his corporate armor into the shadows until he stood completely bare before me.

In the dim, colorful light of the city, he looked like a pagan god—every ridge of his abdomen defined, his shoulders impossibly broad, and his heavy, rigid desire pulsing with a desperate, unyielding demand.

"Look at me, Abigail," he commanded, his voice a gravelly hiss that vibrated straight through my bones. He crawled over me, pinning my wrists above my head with just one of his massive hands, his fingers locking around my skin like iron manacles. "Look at what you’ve done to me." In my head I was enjoying everything Caleb was becoming because of me.

I tilted my chin up, my breathing shallow, my chest heaving against the silk of my dress as I looked into his dark, dilated eyes. There was no businessman left. There was no "Silver Fox" guardian. There was only a man who had been completely unraveled by his own forbidden hunger.

"I'm looking, Caleb," I whispered, my voice thick with a liquid heat that had settled deep between my thighs. I writhed beneath him, the friction of his heavy body against mine driving me to the brink of insanity. "Please. I don't want to talk about my father. I don't want to think about tomorrow. Just ruin me."

A dark, dangerous smirk touched his lips, though it was devoid of humor—it was the expression of a man who had accepted his damnation. "You want to be ruined? Fine. But you don't get to hide from it."

He released my wrists, his hands sliding down to hook into the low-cut neckline of my black slip dress. With one sharp, violent jerk, the sound of tearing silk echoed through the quiet room. The dress split down the center, completely exposing my flushed, aching body to his gaze. I let out a sharp gasp, my hands instantly coming up to cover myself, but Caleb caught my wrists again, forcing my arms back down to the mattress.

"No," he growled softly, his eyes tracking the rapid rise and fall of my breasts, the dark bruises his fingers had left this morning still visible on my collarbone. "You wanted this light, Abby. You wanted me to stop treating you like a child. A woman doesn't hide."

His hand slid down the center of my stomach, his rough palm a trail of fire against my skin, until his fingers found the completely soaked lace of my panties. He didn't waste time sliding them off; his fingers hooked into the side straps and tore them away, discarding the scrap of fabric into the dark.

When his fingers slid inside me, testing the slick, white-hot readiness of my body, a loud, jagged sob tore from my throat. He moved with a slow, agonizing deliberation, stretching me, driving me to the absolute edge of sanity until I was throwing my hips against his hand, begging for the fullness I knew only he could provide.

"Caleb... please, Caleb, now," I cried out, my head rolling back against the pillows as the neon lights of Roppongi blurred into streaks of pink and blue behind my tears.

He moved over me, his heavy thighs forcing mine wide apart. He positioned himself at the entrance of my core, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, unyielding intensity that demanded my absolute presence.

When he drove into me, filling me completely with one deep, ruthless thrust, the sheer velocity of the sensation made my breath catch entirely. It was a bruising, possessive stretch, a beautiful destruction that made me feel like my entire world was fracturing under the weight of his gravity. I let out a loud, breathless scream against his shoulder, my teeth sinking into the hard muscle of his neck as my legs tightened around his waist.

Caleb let out a guttural groan, his head buried in the waves of my blonde hair as he began to move. The rhythm was fierce, unyielding, and completely devoid of the hesitation that had plagued him in the study. He hit me with a primal, heavy force that shook the frame of the bed, each stroke a deliberate sin that cemented our shared ruin.

The room was filled with the frantic, wet sound of our collision, the ragged gasps of our breathing, and the desperate whimpers that I couldn't stop from escaping my swollen lips. I clung to his broad shoulders, my fingernails digging deep into his back, pulling him closer, wanting him to go deeper until there was no space left between us, no past, and no terrifying future.

We were drowning in each other, miles above the city, completely lost in a beautiful, dark damnation that neither of us wanted to be saved from.