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I shake my head. “You just want to make sure that your mouth doesn’t ruin this date.”

“Baby”—he wraps his arm around my waist—“my mouth is going to be so busy making you moan, there is no way it’s going to ruin this date.” He kisses me, and I want to bypass all the things he has planned and go straight to the bedroom.

He slides his hand in mine as we walk down the concrete pathway to his house.

We walk up the three steps to his tan double door with two big windows.

Its blinds are closed so you can’t see in, but you can see a glow from the light he must have left on.

I look to the left while he gets his keys out and see two rocking chairs in front of massive windows, their shades also closed, but you see darkness coming from them.

He opens the door. “Welcome to my home.” He holds out his hand for me to go in, and I smile as I step up and into his house and stop when I see what the glow was.

All along the right side of the wall are different-sized glass vases filled with candles. “Oh my,” I say when he steps in behind me and closes the door.

His hand goes around my waist, pulling me to him as he bends his head and whispers in my ear, “I wanted it to be romantic for you.” He buries his face in my neck, and I put my hand on his arm around my waist, turning to look at him.

The way the candles light up the entranceway makes his eyes feel like home.

“I wanted you to feel how honored I am that you went out on a date with me.”

“I kind of didn’t have a choice.” I smile at him, trying to tame the way my heart is beating and not letting him see this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. No one has ever gone to the trouble with me. Sure, I’ve been on first dates, but no one has done this.

He slides his hand in mine. “You always have a choice.” He moves my hand to his mouth, bringing it to his lips before he leans over and kisses me on the lips. He pulls me down the hallway, and we step into the great room, and I can’t help but gasp.

On every available surface is flowers. All different shades of white, all kinds of flowers.

It smells like a flower shop. The lights are very dim, but it’s also the candles scattered around the room that gives it the romantic glow while soft music plays in the background.

“This is a little bit of a—” I start, trying not to allow my voice to quiver as I let go of his hand and do a circle in the room with a big U-shaped couch.

It looks cozy as fuck as it faces the fireplace that has flowers draped across it and hanging down on the sides, vases of water and candles mixed in.

The big television over the fireplace is off, but you can just picture sitting down and watching a movie while you snuggle on the couch.

“It’s too much, right?” He laughs, and I just shake my head. “I thought it was, but then I was like, maybe it isn’t enough.”

“It’s enough.” I smile. “It’s perfect.”

“The only thing perfect in this room is you,” he states. He comes over to me and pushes the hair away from the side of my face, his fingertips trailing up my cheekbone. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

I put my hands on his hips, more to steady myself than anything else. “You say that to all the girls,” I joke with him and try to laugh, but the way my heart is beating and the way my chest tightens, it comes out in pants.

“I haven’t said that to any other person than you,” he assures me. His eyes stare into mine as he licks his lips, and I want him to kiss me more than I want anything else. “Are you hungry?”

I nod, and he turns and walks with me to the table set up between the couch and the big island in the kitchen. “Sit.” He pulls out a chair. “Would you like some wine or champagne?”

“I think we should do champagne, don’t you?” I ask. “Celebrate me getting the D, finally, after stringing me along all week long.”

He throws his head back and laughs. I get up on my feet because I want to kiss the side of his neck that is exposed.

His eyes widen when I stand and kiss him.

“All week long, Caleb,” I mumble, turning and pushing him back into the chair I just got out of.

“It was torture.” He falls into the chair, and his legs open for me to stand between them.

“You aren’t the only one who was tortured,” he replies as he looks up at me. I put my hands on the side of my thighs, moving my skirt up a bit so I can straddle him. His hands go to my ass when I sit down on him. I can feel his hard cock under me, and I’m done waiting.

“How much torture was it?” I ask before I put my hand on the side of his face and open my mouth to kiss him and swallow his words.

My tongue slides in with his as we kiss.

The kiss starts off slow, but then heats up about two seconds later just like it always does.

His hands go from my ass and roam up to my back, pulling the shirt that is tucked in it out.

His warm hands touch my back, making my hips press down into him.

He groans as I let go of his lips, moving my hand from his face, crisscrossing it in front of me and peeling the shirt off me.

Leaving me in a white lace half-cup bra that really doesn’t hide anything.

“Fuck,” he hisses, one of his hands going to my ass while the other one pushes the cup down, and he holds my tit before bending his head and taking a nipple into his mouth.

I place my hand behind me on his thigh before I grind into him.

“I wanted to take my time,” he says when he lets go of my nipple to roll it.

I put my forehead on his. “I think we’ve gone slow enough, don’t you?”

His hand moves from my ass to the other side as he pulls the other cup down, holding my tits on the sides as his thumbs move over my nipples softly, making them achy. “I don’t want to rush you.”

I pant out as I grind up and down on his covered cock. “You aren’t rushing me.”

I run my hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart beating as fast as mine. “I don’t think you understand this, Sierra. There will be no one else after me.” His words drain the air from my lungs. “Not one other person will touch you like this again.”

The back of my neck tingles, as well as my whole body, when I grip his shirt in my hands.

I move it up his chest and pull it over his head, tossing it to the side where my shirt is.

“I’ve never seen you without your shirt,” I tell him, ignoring what he just said, “but my fingers know every inch of you.” I kiss down his chest, then slowly move off his lap.

“Stand up for me,” I ask, and he does, and I finally take in all that is Caleb, all the ridges of his body.

The way his chest is defined, but not too much.

It’s just fucking perfect, like him. His arms are covered in tattoos all interconnected.

An angel on his forearm and then, on the other side, the picture of a football from when he was in college.

His tattoo on the right side of his chest with the saying, “A man is not finished when he is defeated. He is finished when he quits.” My nails drag down his chest to his belt.

He takes a step back. “Caleb,” I say, “do you want me?”

“More than I want my next breath,” he whispers, and I stare at him as my fingers work his belt. Our chests rise and fall as if we are racing. “I don’t think?—”

“You don’t think what?” I ask as I unzip his pants, itching to get my hands and mouth on him.

“I don’t think that I can.” He trails off when my fingertips move over the elastic to his boxers.

“There will be no one else after me,” I repeat the words he said to me not too long ago. “Not one person will touch you like this again. It’s going to be just me.” I step into him and run my nose on his bearded jaw. “Are you okay with that?”

“Take what you want, baby.” I smirk as I push his boxers and jeans over his hips.

“I want you to sit back down and watch me suck your cock.” He pushes his pants all the way down to the floor, kicking off his boots and then stepping out of them, leaving him buck-ass naked.

I decide we are going to spend the whole fucking weekend naked.

“Oh my.” My eyes trail his thick thighs right up to his cock, making my mouth water.

“Sit.” He does, and I crawl to him. Taking the base of his cock in my hand, he hisses.

“Answer me”—I move my hand up and down, his cock is so thick I can’t close my hand—“how many times did you come this week thinking about me?” I watch him as I take the tip of his cock into my mouth, and his head goes back.

“Every fucking day, twice a day,” he hisses out as I lick him from the base to the tip. “Twice today.”

“Twice?” I ask him before I take half of his cock into my mouth, letting it go and moving my hand up and down.

“Woke up hard thinking of you riding my face,” he informs me as I swallow half his cock again.

My mouth strains to open around him. “Then took a shower before I came to get you and thought about sinking my cock into you.” I moan around his cock, the vibration making his hips jerk up and pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.

“Touched the back of your throat,” he says to me as I work my hand and my mouth.

“Got to open it up so I can slide down it.”

“I don’t think I can take you all in,” I admit, “but I’m going to fucking try.” I try to take him deeper into my mouth, spreading as wide as I can as his hips move with me now.

“Attagirl, swallow me down.” I grip the base of his cock tighter in my hand, moving it frantically up and down.

“I’m not going to last,” he blurts, and I look up at him, watching his jaw get tight.

“If you don’t want me to shoot down that throat of yours, you better move.

” When I don’t move, I see his eyes twinkle.

“Going to come down your throat now, and then spend all night covering you in my cum.” I lose his eyes as my pussy clenches.

“Every inch of you will have my cum,” he grits between clenched teeth while the first rope of his cum hits the back of my throat, and I swallow whatever he has to give me.

I only let go of his cock when he’s done, and his body relaxes in the chair.

I stand and step between his legs, but he pushes me away only for him to stand and wrap his arm around my waist, picking me up and turning me.

“Time for me to eat my meal”—I try not to smile—“bed or table?”

I look at the table that has all the decorations on it. “Bed would be easier.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, walking through his house, “I’ll fuck you on the table later.”

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Caleb.” I push his buttons as he walks back toward the great room and to his bedroom. I look over his shoulder and gasp.

The bedroom is masculine with the king-sized bed in the middle, but he has fairy lights hanging from the ceiling all around the bed.

“Wanted to fuck you under the stars,” he tells me, “this was the easiest way.” I’m about to say something to him but he throws me on the bed.

“Spread your legs. I’m about to make you see a whole lot of stars, baby. ”