Morgan shut her eyes, refusing to look at him. She’d reached the height of humiliation. She was the spiller of female secrets, and the population would never forgive her.

“Baby, open your eyes. Look at me.”

She groaned but slowly peeked at him. Pure amusement danced in his eyes, tugged at his lips. But he looked straight at her when he spoke. “You thought that not shaving would keep you safe from me?”

Misery leaked into her voice. “Yes.”

Suddenly, with one strong motion, he ripped the pants off her, yanked her legs apart, and knelt between them. Shock and lust warred for dominance. His face reflected a determination that caused shivers to race down her spine. “That is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

She wriggled desperately to get away from him, even though she wanted his mouth between her thighs more than she wanted her next breath. “No! This isn’t good. Let me use the bathroom and I’ll clean up and we’ll continue where we left off. Oh!” He gripped her thighs to keep her still and lowered his head. His openmouthed kiss against the thin fabric of her white lace panties caused her hips to shoot off the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere. I don’t want you clean and neat and proper. I want you messy and dirty and wet.” His fingers played with the elastic edges of her panties, dipping inside to tease her. “And you’re very wet right now.”

Her head thrashed back and forth on the bed, fighting between her need for this man and her feminine pride. “I have stubble!”

“And I fucking love it. Nothing could keep me from worshipping your body tonight, Morgan. I intend to gorge on every part of you, and I’m gonna start right here. Now, stop thinking.”

His tongue ran down the center of the damp fabric, slowly licking her, all the while his fingers played along the edge of the band. Between the strokes of his hand and the nibbling, licking motions of his mouth, her body straightened like a bow, completely under his command. His tongue pressed hard against her throbbing clit, then the edges of his teeth raked over her swollen flesh.

“Caleb! That feels too good.”

“No such thing, baby. God, you’re so responsive. So hot.” His fingers hooked under the elastic, brushed against her wet lips, and dove deep.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was hell. It was heaven. The orgasm shimmered right there, so close, until a helpless whimper rose to her lips and he sensed right then what she needed. He cursed, added his second finger, and pumped in and out of her channel with light strokes. At the same time, he closed his teeth over the throbbing nub of her clit through the soaked fabric of her panties and bit gently.

She came.

The excruciating pleasure rolled over her in waves, and her body rode it out with wild abandon. He didn’t remove his fingers or stop his tongue’s delicious movements until every last ounce of that orgasm was done and she was wrung out. Finally he lifted his head, a satisfied crooked grin on his mouth.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She blinked. “I’m not sure.”

“Much better. Now you’re not thinking.”

A shudder ran through her. “I’m sorry.”

His brow lifted. “For what?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I guess I couldn’t wait. That’s never happened before. My underwear wasn’t even off.”

His laugh was rich and deep and very masculine. “Good. You’re kind of magnificent, princess. I think you need to do that again.”

Cal worked her panties down her hips, then leaned over. The drawer opened and a condom was in his grip. She watched with hungry eyes as he stripped off his boxers and fit himself with the condom. Raising her legs, he hooked her ankles over his shoulders and paused at her dripping entrance. Breath held, she shut her eyes and waited for him to take her. A trickle of fear hit. How long had it been since she’d been this intimate with a man? The sheer vulnerability of this moment overwhelmed her, but she wanted him too badly to pull back. He pushed in a few inches. Paused.

“Open your eyes.”

The low rasp startled her, so she obeyed. Cal poised above her, held in a muscle lock she didn’t understand. Was he afraid he’d hurt her? Sweat gleamed on his brow. “How do you like it? Slow and easy? Fast and hard?”

Morgan didn’t know, because it had been two years since she’d had sex. Hating to admit her inexperience, she said the only words that came to mind. “I like it every way.”

His jaw clenched. “Crap, you’re gonna kill me. So tight and wet. Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face when I make you come again.”

Oh, my. Morgan had never engaged in dirty talk during sex, but his words were like a live wire to her body. The filthier he talked, the crazier she got, her body softening and opening up to any bad thing he wanted to do. Instead of surging forward, Cal began to stroke his cock against her swollen folds, rubbing against her sensitive clit until she was right there again, at the precipice of orgasm. She writhed beneath him, digging her nails deep into his shoulders, but he ignored her cues and kept up the maddening, slow, torturous pace until her sanity shattered into tiny pieces.

“For God’s sake, Cal, fuck me! Please, take me now!”

“Good girl.”

He plunged his cock deep inside, burying himself completely. She cried out and hung on, the sheer width and length of him making her squirm from the hot, stretching sensation. Morgan gasped. He completely filled her, allowing no room for anything but the primitive demand to surrender to him. She tried to fight it—her mind gave a good fight—but then he started to move and she gave up and gave in.

Cal gave her no time to shore up her defenses. With every stroke, he claimed her. She hung on to his shoulders while he drove inside her over and over, rocking his hips, putting just the perfect amount of pressure on her clit to keep her from tumbling over but maintaining the sharp edge. She cried his name. She begged. And with one perfect deep thrust, something in her belly shimmered with staggering heat, and she shot apart.

Brutal pleasure flooded through her, turning her boneless. His dim shout told her he had followed her over. Tiny convulsions wracked her body as she drifted down to reality. Helpless to move or make sense out of what had happened, she had one brief moment of clarity in her spent state and wondered if she should politely excuse herself. Maybe he wasn’t the sleepover type. Maybe he hated women sharing his bed or trying to spoon. Maybe—