Page 89 of Roguefinder

“That’s what I was made for,” I said, the certainty of it landing even as the words left my lips. “All this time, I was waiting for you.”

Caleb looked at my mouth. “Philippe didn’t know what to do with you.” He lifted his eyes. “But I do.”

My heart rate climbed. “Yeah, you do.” I stood, drawing him to his feet. “Come upstairs with me.”

He hesitated, and I knew he was thinking of what he’d seen. “I don’t know if that’s a good⁠—”

“I’m not asking,” I said.

He shut his mouth.

“The past shapes us,” I said, “but that shape is always changing. We live a very long time, Caleb. I want centuries with you. A thousand years won’t be enough.” I dropped his hand and grasped his jaw. “I want to see what shapes we take.” I kissed him, slow and deliberate, and spoke against his lips. “Come upstairs with me, puppy.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter

Eighteen

CALEB

Jesse led me into the bathroom and nodded toward the supplies on the shelf in the shower. “Come find me when you’re finished.”

One of his favorite orders. But it was on my favorites list, too, so I could hardly complain.

“Where are you going?” I asked as he turned toward the door.

He swung back with eyes already turning gold. “Don’t make me wait.”

I found him in the bedroom twenty minutes later, his back to me as he fussed with something on a low dresser. His hair was damp, and he wore nothing but a pair of loose pajama pants. The curtains were open, and afternoon sunlight sparkled over everything.

A huge mirror was propped against the wall next to the bed. The frame was as thick as my waist, with carvings of grapes and vines. It was probably five hundred years old and worth more than my unfinished college degree.

I hesitated in the middle of the bright room, one hand hovering near my semi-erect dick. “Hey.”

Jesus Christ.

Jesse turned, and appreciation gleamed in his eyes as he slow-walked them down my body. My semi went full 18-wheeler, and he laughed softly.

“Come here.”

I went, and he pulled me against him and palmed my ass. Our dicks met, my erection jerking like a doctor had whacked it with one of those little hammers.

“Hey, yourself,” Jesse said, smiling against my lips. He squeezed and kneaded my ass with both hands as he kissed down my jaw to my throat.

“What’s the mirror for?” I asked, eyeing it over his shoulder. His fingers grazed my hole, and I sucked in a breath. “Never mind. I’ve seen this movie before.”

His chuckle vibrated against my neck. Then he pulled back and tipped up my chin. “Such a smart mouth on you.” He still gripped my ass with his free hand, and he squeezed until I grunted. “Open it.”

“My—? My mouth, or—?” Because his hand was on my ass, and⁠—

“Your mouth, Caleb.” He used his “teacher” voice, equal parts disappointed and patient. I’d heard it a thousand times from other teachers. But none of them had ever made me want to drop to my knees and blow them.

I popped open like a baby bird.

And waited for him to kiss me.

He kept one hand on my ass and gripped my throat with the other. “I like this mouth, though. What comes out of it. What goes into it. What it looks like when it’s swallowing my cock.”