The Wicked Trilogy: Caleb & Margo (Fallen Royals #1-3), page 25
Tonight has been an exercise in ignoring Amelie and Ian, who always seem to be in the corner of my eye. She came in with a gorgeous black mask that has feathers and jewels, and a tight, tight red dress. Ian matches her: red mask, black-and-red suit.
I wonder if anyone’s compared her to the Queen of Hearts. Off with their heads!
Luckily, Amelie doesn’t have that much power.
Savannah brought a new boy to the dance. His mask obscures too much of his face, but people are whispering.
The slow song ends, and I step away from Caleb. My feet ache.
“Thirsty?” he asks.
I nod, searching for Riley. After a moment, I find her and point. “I’ll be over there.”
He grins. There’s a spot of red lipstick on his lip, and I start to rub it off for him.
He stops me. “Leave it. I like your mark on me.”
I grin, shaking my head. Of course he does.
Halfway to Riley’s table, a girl approaches. She grabs my arm and pulls me out a side door, into a hallway.
“Excuse me,” I snap.
She lifts her mask.
Claire.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp.
She rolls her eyes. “Nice seeing you, too, sis.”
“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to crash the party.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting you to ignore my phone calls.”
“I’m not. I haven’t got any from you.”
She scowls.
“Seriously. And my phone is in Caleb’s jacket…”
“I have something important to tell you, Margo.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay.”
It must be bad if Claire is willing to travel all the way to Rose Hill to tell me something. Bad or good, I guess. My bet is on the former. And as I think that, my stomach twists.
“I was worried about you,” she said. “And you know how we met your foster mom the other day?”
Last week, at the mall. How could I forget?
My face answers for me.
Claire sighs. “She was familiar—but like, in an ‘I have a bad feeling about this’ kind of way. You know those moments where you just want to follow your gut?”
“I… guess.” I don’t like where this is going.
“Remember when we lived together, and you found my stash?”
Of newspaper clippings. Yes.
Her parents died in a car accident, and for a while, she was obsessed with other kids who lost parents in accidents. If there was a newspaper write-up about it, you could bet that Claire had it cut out and pressed into a notebook.
“Some of them had pictures, you know? Like of the family mourning.”
“Okay, and?”
“Your foster mom seemed familiar.”
I roll my eyes. “You said the same freaking thing about Caleb!”
“He still is familiar,” she mutters. “But that’s not what we’re talking about right now. The point is: I figured out your foster mom!”
I squint at her, finally untying my mask. I pull it off. “From… your newspaper clippings?”
“Yes! Her daughter died in a crash like, five years ago. There was a picture of her and her husband at the grave site.”
“That’s awful, Claire. And, for the record, I knew she died.”
“No, but look.” She pulls a paper from her pocket, shoving it into my hand. “Just read that!”
“Margo?”
I spin around, crumpling the paper in my fist. Caleb walks toward us, gaze bouncing back and forth between Claire and me.
“I don’t recognize you,” he says, his eyes on her. “A friend of Margo’s?”
I glance back at Claire, but she has her mask firmly back in place. She takes a few steps backward, shrugging. “See ya later, Wolfe.”
“You good?” he asks.
“Yep.” My dress has small pockets. They aren’t big enough for a phone, but definitely for a scrap of paper. I tuck it in and retie my mask.
Caleb hands me a cup of punch, and we go join Riley and Eli.
Claire’s warning is swept away in the excitement of the rest of the evening. Eventually, Caleb’s hand on my back is too much for me to bear. The room is slowly emptying out, and I find myself leaning on him more and more.
We’ve done our part. We showed up, we danced, we were seen and admired. The last two things were just what I figured Caleb wanted. We talked with Theo and Liam, who both opted to come alone.
At one point, Theo stole Amelie away from Ian and whisked her around. They both actually knew how to do more than sway, which was… impressive. I didn’t figure him as the type to fall for her charm.
Caleb chuckled at my expression. “He’s using Amelie.”
“For what?”
He just shakes his head.
Now, I lean against Caleb and try to telepathically tell him that it’s okay to leave.
“Tired?” he asks.
I nod, emphatic.
He tuts and leans down. “Poor thing. I thought our night was just getting started…”
His words undo me.
I press my thighs together, turning so my lips brush his ear. “Tired of being surrounded by people,” I clarify.
He smirks. “If you insist.”
He takes my hand, lacing our fingers, and pulls me up. I come closer to his height in my heels, but he still manages to feel… bigger. Infinitely more imposing.
“We’re out,” Caleb says, slapping Eli’s hand. “See you tomorrow.”
We say goodbye to Theo and Liam, too. The latter has found a girl, and he keeps her in his lap as we walk by.
The music is much fainter in the lobby. He hands me my clutch and withdraws a keycard.
Our bags should already be in the room. This morning, Riley and I tossed our overnight bags in Caleb’s trunk. We all figured it was easier to explain it away than have Lenora and Robert ask me a million questions.
The elevator ride is quick, shared with another couple, and Caleb and I keep eyeing each other. Once we’re in the hallway, he takes my hand. We stop in front of a door, which he unlocks, and he quickly scoops me up. I throw my arms around his neck, suppressing a yelp, and he carries me over the threshold.
“Cute,” I say.
He just smiles.
He doesn’t set me down. He walks down the hall and into the room. But it isn’t just a room. It’s a whole freaking suite. There’s a living and dining room, complete with a giant oak table. A door with locks on it on the right, which I assume means it can connect with another suite, and the bedroom and bathroom on the left.
There’s a giant vase filled with flowers on the table.
“Wow.”
He shifts, lifting me higher. “It’s worth it.”
“Bedroom?”
“As you wish.” He strides toward the bedroom and places me on my feet.
I have a second to get my balance before he’s on me, pushing me against the wall. I arch into him as his lips meet mine. He teases me, brushing his lips against mine.
“Remember what I said?” he asks.
“Yes,” I breathe. He’s going to fuck me senseless.
His hands slide up my legs, lifting my dress. Slowly, he drags my panties down. He kneels, keeping a hand on my hip while I step out of them. He grasps one of my ankles and puts it over his shoulder.
God, I’m wet from just thinking about what he’s going to do to me.
“Hold on tight,” he warns, then he leans forward and puts his lips on me. He sucks on my clit, hard.
I buck, trying to get away.
It—it hurts.
My hands grip the skirt of my dress. I wriggle at the feel of his teeth on me, but he just bites my inner thigh.
I moan. The back of my head hits the wall.
He pulls away, groaning, and suddenly I’m in the air. I hold on to his shoulders while he carries me to the bed, tossing me on it and following.
I swallow, moving backward.
“You like it when I hurt you.” He pushes my dress up again. “You’re going to come with my tongue inside you.”
My shoulder blades hit the headboard.
He goes back down on me, his tongue sliding through my folds. My back comes off the bed, pleasure spreading through me. The bite on my thigh pulses. He thrusts his tongue into me.
“You’re wicked,” I whimper.
He trades his tongue for fingers, and his mouth goes back to my clit, biting and sucking.
It doesn’t take long for the sensation to build and build and build.
He thrusts into me with his tongue again, fucking me with his mouth just like he said he would.
I shatter, moaning his name. It’s unbearable.
There’s a gleam in his eye.
He’s not finished.
I collapse back as two fingers slide into me, hitting my G-spot with deadly accuracy. I can’t control my hips, which begin to rock into him. My eyes close, and I lose track of where he is.
That’s my mistake.
He pushes in another finger, spreading me wider, and licks my clit. It’s so fucking slow, every stroke makes me tremble.
“Caleb,” I groan, trying to push his head away. It’s too much. My legs tingle.
“Give it to me,” he growls.
His finger, wet from being inside me, slips back, teasing my asshole. He pushes inside at the same time that he slides his tongue into me.
The sensation is overwhelming. Another orgasm crashes over me, and my legs shake. I keep coming.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, turning my head to the side. He just stuck his finger in my...
He smirks. “You can call me that, if you want.”
“Ass.” I’m panting. I’m pretty sure I can’t move.
“Wasn’t that worth waiting for?”
Who would’ve thought two weeks was a long time to go without sex? And not just sex—any orgasms. My stomach is still bruised, but it doesn’t hurt much anymore. The limited activity order has done wonders.
“Yes,” I manage.
He gets up and hauls me up, too. “Get naked.”
I gulp.
More?
I unbuckle my heels, more than happy to be rid of them, and my dress follows. It puddles on the floor around me. I throw it on the back of the chair.
Caleb comes out of the bathroom.
I go in and pee, then contemplate taking down my hair. It’s a little messy from the dancing and what just happened. Still, it’s not a bad look. I analyze the rest of my body. My stomach’s bruises are yellow and green, with some spots still light purple or red. There’s a bite mark on my breast.
I’ve had Ian’s bite mark on my wrist covered with makeup. The scratches on my arm have healed, except for a few deeper gouges that scabbed over.
In another few weeks, I’ll be whole again.
Caleb opens the door, meeting my eyes in the mirror. He’s naked.
He comes and stands behind me, touching his own mark on my breast. When I told him I liked pain. His hand glides down my arm, closing over the bracelet on my wrist. He wears his on the same arm.
“I’m really fucking glad you decided to wear your own version of a crown.” He kisses my neck.
I tip my head to the side. I guess I didn’t think about that implication. But the more I think about it, the more… I like it.
He peppers kisses down my shoulder, lifting my arm. His lips hover over the bracelet.
“Did you mean it?”
I shake my head. “Did I mean what?”
“That you wanted to marry me. When we were nine.”
“We were eight,” I murmur. “And yes, I did mean it. I wanted a future with you.”
Our eyes collide in the mirror again, and this time...
“You have stickers on your boobs,” he says.
I jerk, then burst out laughing. I had forgotten about them. I peel them off, then slip past him. I grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the living room and cross to the windows. We’re high enough that there’s no chance of anyone spying the naked girl.
Top floor.
Caleb’s reflection appears behind me again. He uses his foot to widen my stance, and he bends me forward. I automatically put my hands on the window to keep my balance.
He pushes into me without a word.
I bite my lip, trapping my whimper behind my teeth.
Two can play that game.
There’s always a game between us.
He thrusts faster, stoking something hot between us. His hand reaches around me, and his fingers find my clit again.
It’s sore. Everything is sore.
I bite my lip harder. He can’t win this, too.
I push back to meet his pace. His finger on my clit, rubbing fast little circles, is insistent.
His other hand slides into my hair, keeping my head up. I see us in the reflection, my whole body moving with every slam. And beyond us, a city that couldn’t give a damn. Students filter out below us.
He changes angles, rolling his hips, and I can’t take it anymore. I let out a whimper.
His hand moves from my hair to around my neck. He pulls me so I’m almost upright, then growls and picks up the pace. “So. Fucking. Perfect.”
“I can’t,” I pant.
“Fuck,” he growls, biting my shoulder. “Scream, Margo.”
I do. I tip my head back and scream his name, abandoning all self-control. My legs tremble while the orgasm rolls through me. I squeeze my eyes shut.
He slams into me at a whole new angle, grunting into my neck. He jerks forward, burying himself all the way inside me, and comes with a hiss of breath.
We stand like that for a long moment. Eyes closed.
I’m so tired I can barely move.
He pulls out and takes off the condom.
Slowly, I sink to my knees.
Caleb returns and comes over to me, lifting me up easily. “A nap, then maybe we’ll try this again,” he says.
“Great,” I mumble. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
He tucks us into bed and turns off the light. We’re still naked—a fact he takes advantage of with his wandering hand. I press closer to him, raising my head.
“Kiss me,” I say.
He places a soft kiss on my lips. It’s exactly what I need.
I exhale, wrapping my arms around him, and within seconds, I’m out.
34
Margo
Our alarm goes off at six-thirty.
Caleb rolls over me, smacking the ‘off’ button, and blinks down at me.
He’s adorable when he’s sleepy.
I don’t dare tell him that, but I take a mental snapshot and file it away.
And then he shifts, and his erection brushes my leg. I stare at him, spreading my legs. It’s too early for chitchat, but it isn’t too early for this.
He looks over at the nightstand. I don’t know why he does—we both already know there aren’t any condoms left.
We woke up after a short nap and had sex. Then again a little while later. That time, he stayed inside me until he got hard, and the whole thing repeated. We didn’t sleep for long. I went down on him, but that… that turned into him fucking my mouth.
I didn’t think almost choking on his dick would be hot, but it was.
“Just pull out,” I whisper.
He hesitates a split second, his gaze darting around my face, then plunges into me.
We both groan.
It’s quick and dirty. He flicks my clit until I fall apart, then pounds into me with fervor. He stills for a split second, then jerks back and comes on my stomach.
I reach down and stroke him, eliciting a groan from him. His cum is hot liquid on my skin, and it’s smeared between us as he drops down on top of me.
“You felt fucking amazing,” he whispers. He kisses the hell out of me, his tongue invading my mouth.
We kiss until a pounding at the door interrupts us.
He scowls in that direction. To me, he says, “Get dressed.”
He tugs on a pair of shorts and closes the door behind him.
I pause for a second, then rush for my clothes. Underwear, leggings, sports bra, t-shirt. It’s all on in a matter of seconds, and I make sure my hair isn’t crazy before I step out. The strands of pearls were yanked out sometime during our second fuck. I twist my hair up into a high bun, frowning at my reflection.
After brushing my teeth, I walk into the living room.
Riley sits on the couch, biting her nail. “Oh my god, Margo! First, amazing room. Second, this is an emergency—”
“Slow down,” I mumble.
“Where’s your phone?”
It was in the clutch. Where said clutch ended up, I don’t know. “I’d have to look around.”
She huffs, then whirls on Caleb. “I need to take her.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You can keep the room, Ri. I’ve got an errand to run, anyway.” He comes over and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll check out, so don’t worry about it. Eli can give you a ride.”
“Okay.”
He grabs his bag and reappears fully dressed. Men. I need at least a half hour to get my act together. He leaves, and Riley follows me into the bedroom.
She immediately starts laughing. “Jesus.”
“What?”
“Smells like you had a lot of sex.”
I roll my eyes. “Gross. But… true.”
I collect my stuff, throwing it in my bag while Riley watches. I save the dress for last, smoothing it as I fold it over my arm. My fingers touch something that crinkles, and I suddenly remember the paper Claire had given me. I never even thought to mention it to Riley.
I pull it out and slip it into my leggings pocket, vowing to read it later.
Finally, I place the dress in my bag and zip it shut.
“Okay, I think that’s everything.”
“Except your phone.” She’s still gnawing at her finger.
“Did you try to reach me last night? Did something happen with you and Eli?”
“What? No. No, he’s waiting for us in the lobby.”
I shrug. “It was in the clutch with my ID. Maybe in the living room?”
We scour the place, and I finally find it under the dining table. How it got there, I’ll never know. I’m about to get my phone, but Riley lays her hand on top of mine.
