82

CALEB

Ihadn’t even touched her, but the scent of Sunday’s arousal continued to torment me. Even now, hours later, my dick was still hard, still aching for relief. The fecking sounds she made as they’d had her right in front of me echoed in my mind. I’d pulled sounds like that from deep inside her, I wanted to then as well, but I hung onto my resolve by the thinnest thread I had remaining.

The way she’d looked at me, begging me with her eyes to touch her. To taste her. God above, it was nearly my undoing. Did she have any idea what she did to me? How little control I had when it came to her? How every time I touched her I swore it would be the last, even when I knew she’d make a sinner of me the next time we crossed paths.

“Is something burning?” The words intruded on my thoughts, the angel Gabriel’s voice holding annoyance as he looked at me. “Caleb, your hand.”