Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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ESMERALDA'S POV
The weekend was nothing but food, sleep, and Caleb.
And sex. So much sex.
I finally understood why people acted like they were addicted to it—why they chased after those stolen moments, the breathless highs, the way it made them feel. But it wasn't just the act itself. It was who I was doing it with.
Caleb.
Caleb, who knew exactly how to ruin me.
My body was sore in ways I didn't even know were possible. Every inch of me felt marked by him—every place his hands had been, every way he had stretched and twisted me to his liking. There was no part of me he hadn't owned. No part of me that didn't crave more.
Friday night had started slow. He had taken his time, teasing me, learning how my body responded to him, making me beg before finally giving in. By Saturday, we had pushed past any restraint. He had taken me in ways that made my head spin, moving me, flipping me, dragging me onto his lap, against the wall, over the kitchen counter. There was no hesitation, no gentleness—just need. Raw, unfiltered, intoxicating need.
I could still feel the bruises on my hips from how hard he had held me down. My throat was sore from the way he had made me cry out his name. I had never imagined this was what pleasure could feel like—overwhelming, consuming, impossible to ignore.
So, when Monday morning came, my body refused to move.
I groaned, stretching slightly under the sheets, my legs aching, my muscles protesting. My alarm had gone off ages ago, signaling that it was time for class, but the weight of exhaustion pinned me down.
"Not happening," Caleb's voice rumbled beside me.
I turned my head, finding him already watching me, his arm draped lazily over my waist. His hair was tousled from sleep, his lips slightly swollen—God, just looking at him made my stomach flip.
I sighed dramatically. "I never skip class."
Caleb smirked. "You never got fucked like that before either, Cherry."
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I tried to shove him, but he barely budged, his grip on me tightening. "You can't just say things like that."
"Why not?" His lips grazed the shell of my ear, his voice dropping into that low, teasing tone that sent a shiver down my spine. "I did fuck you like that. Multiple times. In multiple places."
I smacked his chest, but the laughter in his eyes only deepened.
"You're the worst."
"I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you, and you know it."
