Intimate

by Noelle Adams

  Gently tugging on her lower lip with his teeth, Caleb reached down to slide up her skirt until it was bunched up around her hips. “Like last time. But this time, I get to do it for you.”

  Despite the irresistibly seductive quality of his voice and touch, her heart sank at his words. If they were having regular sex or if she was bringing him to climax, then her orgasming problem wouldn’t be an issue.

  But if Caleb was solely concentrating on getting her off, then he would definitely notice if she didn’t come.

  By this point, his fingers were at the damp spot on her panties. He nudged her with his hand, making her suck in her breath. “Good plan?” he asked softly, meeting her eyes.

  She nodded. “But maybe just with your hand—this time.” It wasn’t the plan she would have come up with, but she felt an irrepressible glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it could work.

  She’d never known what she was doing when she tried to masturbate, but he would definitely know what he was doing. Just because she couldn’t make herself come with her hand, didn’t mean that Caleb couldn't make her come.

  She felt overly hot and cramped on the couch, and she could feel his erection pushing against her thigh. And then her skirt was pushed up and his hand was sliding beneath her panties.

  Marissa stifled the immediate terror.

  She wanted this. She really did.

  Caleb eased her open and slid a finger inside. He was pressing little kisses into her jawline at the same time, and she was glad for the distraction. “Okay?” he asked gently.

  “Yeah.” She tried not to tighten her muscles around the intrusion of his finger. It felt kind of nice and not as uncomfortable as she’d feared.

  He slid the finger in and out a few times to generate more moisture, and then pulled it out altogether to trace up toward her clit. He found it in only a few moments. Pushed against the sensitive flesh experimentally.

  She choked out a strange sound, her body jerking as she felt sharp pleasure shooting out from his touch.

  Still kissing her face, he murmured over her skin, “Good?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, her heart pounding brutally. “It’s good.”

  Already, it was better than anything she’d ever been able to do for herself. Her hope started to grow even stronger. Maybe this could really work.

  He readjusted his hand and slid a finger back inside her. After a few slick thrusts, he added a second finger.

  Marissa bit her lip and arched at the tighter, fuller feeling. Kept trying to relax her inner muscles, but they were clamping down around his fingers insistently.

  “God, you’re tight,” he whispered, his voice at her ear. “Baby, I can’t believe how tight you are.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and it made her kind of embarrassed, so she just grabbed his broad shoulders and hung on, tensing up in anticipation.

  "Try to relax a little more." He slid his tongue along her lips.

  "I'm trying. But saying it is easier than doing it."

  After a few more experimental touches, he established a pattern with his hand. He started pumping two fingers inside her and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

  It took a minute for Marissa to get used to the strange sensations, but soon it started feeling pretty nice. The friction was pleasant, and she loved watching his face, so close to hers, occasionally leaning down to kiss her.

  She was flushed and breathing heavily, but she wasn’t making any weird sounds. Nothing felt dirty or animalistic or connected to her bad memories as a child.

  She was basically enjoying it. But, after a few minutes, she still wasn’t getting anywhere.

  Caleb had tried altering his rhythm and pattern several times, his expression growing more and more focused. But the pleasure never became any more intense than what she’d felt when he’d touched her the first time.

  She reclined against the arm of the sofa, gazing at his face and occasionally caressing his neck and shoulders. As the time passed, though, she became even less relaxed. Even more worried.

  A feeling of dread grew in her stomach.

  “Marissa,” Caleb said at last, his voice edged with either anxiety or frustration. “Can you tell me what you need?”

  She was starting to shake from suppressed disappointment and humiliation. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  With a deep breath, he moved his body so that his fingers could angle differently. She was still wet enough that the sensations were comfortable, but she didn’t feel anything different. In fact, she was starting to feel even less.

  Lowering his brow, he looked like he might be getting impatient. “Baby, you’re going to have to help me,” he said, his voice a little stiff. “I know you're aroused, so that can’t be the problem. Is there something else that works for you?”

  He sounded exasperated, and who could blame him? He’d waited all this time and still wasn’t getting anywhere. “No,” she admitted. “Just don’t worry about it.”

  "Try to relax some more."

  "Don't tell me to relax. I'm doing the best I can."

  He made a rough noise of frustration and pulled out his hand. “If you let me use my mouth, I could do it better.”

  “No,” she sighed. “It won’t matter. I’m not even close.”

  She wasn’t even sure what close felt like, but this definitely couldn’t be it. Her aroused flesh was tingling a little from the constant stimulation, but after that initial jolt of pleasure, all the sensations had plateaued.

  He let out a long breath and absentmindedly brought his two fingers up to his mouth. Slid them inside and licked them clean.

  Marissa made a strange noise in her throat as she watched him taste her. He wasn't trying to be sexy—he seemed to have done it unconsciously—but that made the gesture even more intimate.

  When he didn’t say anything, Marissa started to get nervous. “I’m sorry, Caleb. Thank you for trying.”

  Four little lines appeared between his eyebrows. “Were you too nervous? Is it still too soon?”

  She shook her head. “I was kind of nervous, but it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  He stroked her warm, damp cheek, his hand close enough to her nose to allow her to smell herself on his skin. “At least tell me what I did wrong. You don’t have to spare my feelings.”

  That made it hurt even more—that he was so kindly taking the blame on himself. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I just can’t do it.”

  “You can’t do what?”

  “Orgasm,” she admitted. “I can’t get there. I never have.”

  “Never?”

  He sounded so shocked and disbelieving that Marissa wanted to sink into the floor. “Never.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “It’s so embarrassing. And I never really tried that much, since I haven’t thought much about sex since college. I guess…I guess I was still hoping that I’d be able to with you. Since you’re so good at it.”

  For the first time, he looked away from her so she couldn’t read his expression.

  “But I can still help you out,” she added. “Do you want me to?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  She suddenly realized he wasn’t really aroused anymore—evidently too distracted by her issues

  She let out a defeated sigh. “What a mess. I won’t blame you if you want to give up on me.”

  Caleb had always been strong and passionate and deeply invested in whatever he was doing at the moment.

  But he also had a long history of moving on when he got bored or dissatisfied.

  She knew him better than anyone, and she’d always known this about him.

  So she knew how much it meant when he said, “I’m not giving up.”

  Sixteen

  “Really?”

  “Why do you look surprised?” Caleb demanded, slightly insulted by the look on Marissa’s face. “You know how I feel about you.”

  “I know. I do know.” She looked an
xious again, but for a different reason now. “But it hasn’t been that long since our relationship changed, and sometimes it’s still hard for me to believe you really want me. That much.”

  His frustration fading into understanding, he leaned over until his face was a breath away from hers. “Well, start believing it. Because I do. I want you, Marissa. And I’m not going away.”

  Her face transformed, and he realized something he'd said had gotten through to her. He closed the gap between their mouths and kissed her long and deep.

  This time, it was more about emotion than sex, and Caleb was rocked by the difference.

  She kissed the same way she did everything else—generous, focused, earnest, vulnerable, nothing held back, throwing herself into it so she could do the absolute best she could.

  If not for her, he never would have known you could give yourself emotionally that way.

  “I love you, Marissa,” he said, the words pouring out without premeditation or hesitation. Just because he was feeling so much he couldn’t seem to hold it in. “I love you. And I’ll never want anyone but you.”

  Her face looked dangerously like she might cry. Then she grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you too, you know.”

  Caleb had heard the words from her before, but he knew this time they were different. Just as she must have known he meant them differently too.

  He’d never realized he was capable of feeling this way—like his chest might actually burst open with too much emotion.

  When they finally pulled out of the embrace, he said in a hoarse voice, “I’ll do better next time.”

  “What do you mean?" She looked genuinely confused.

  “I’ve always been good at sex. I’m not sure why it’s failing me now, but I’ll do better next time.” He tried not to cringe at the memory of his failure a few minutes ago, when all he wanted to do was please her, give her everything she needed.

  “You mean about before?” She stared at him in astonishment. “It was my fault, not yours. What could you have done better?”

  “I could have given you an orgasm.”

  She shook her head roughly. “What are you talking about? Are you blaming yourself?”

  “Who else?”

  “Did you really believe I would think you had failed? I love you, Caleb. You tried. You did your best. And I love you. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “All right,” he said, feeling a softening in his chest every time she said the words. “If that’s true, then I’ll hear no more from you about why I’m not giving up.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  He met her eyes steadily. “I love you, Marissa. You’re trying. You’re doing your best. And I love you. Why would you think I’d see you as a failure, just because you haven’t miraculously healed yourself overnight?”

  Damn it. She started to cry.

  But then she was kissing him, and it wasn’t really that bad. A little wet, perhaps, but her lips were urgent and hungry. And Caleb lost himself for a few minutes in the sweetness of her embrace.

  When they finally parted, she pulled on him until he joined her sprawled out on the couch. She nestled into his body with perfect, quiet trust.

  He started feeling a little uncomfortable. After such an overload of feeling, what he really wanted to do was make love to her. Sink into her body and drive them both to shattering release. If they could have sex, he would have an outlet for all these overwhelming emotions. The intimacy could be physical as well.

  But, as it was, all Caleb could do was feel. That had always been hardest, most dangerous. And he couldn't even have sex to distract himself.

  But she was everything to him—worth so much more than the effort it took to make himself so vulnerable.

  After a few minutes, she asked in a soft voice, “So we’ll keep trying?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’ll keep trying.”

  ***

  Caleb’s rehearsal ended at a few minutes before seven o’clock the next day. It had been an annoying couple of hours, with the conductor leading them in a direction with the music that Caleb didn’t think they should go.

  So he was irritable when he left and headed toward Marissa’s apartment.

  She wasn’t expecting him tonight, but he could use her company anyway. He didn’t think she would mind if he just dropped by.

  He knocked lightly on her door and then let himself in.

  As soon as he stepped through the doorway, things felt strange. The apartment was very dim, and he was immediately enveloped by a warm, pleasant fragrance. Vanilla, he thought, with another scent mixed in.

  He glanced around the living room. It was dark, and Marissa clearly wasn’t present. So he walked toward her bedroom and noticed that she had lit a few candles and scattered them around the room.

  They created a warm glow in the otherwise dark room, and they must be the source of the increasingly seductive scent.

  He knew now where she was, so he turned toward her bathroom. Rapped softly on the door—finally feeling a vague reluctance to just barge in.

  “Come in, Caleb,”

  With a smile, he let himself into the small bathroom. It too was lit only by several candles, and the scent was even more concentrated in the enclosed space. “Am I intruding on…something?”

  “What does it look like?” she asked.

  She was submerged in her tub—surrounded by frothy bubbles, her head resting on a small bath pillow.

  He stopped short when he saw her, momentarily dazed by how gorgeous she looked, her hair piled loosely on her head, her skin glistening in the glow of the candlelight, hints of her luscious curves occasionally visible where the bubbles were thinner.

  She made a wry face. “I thought you said you weren’t coming over tonight.”

  “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

  “No need. But I’m not going to put an end to the spa evening I planned.”

  Relieved he wasn’t going to get kicked out, he casually draped a towel on the floor and knelt down beside the tub. He reached over to tuck a stray tendril back under her ear. “How’s the bath?”

  “Well,” she said languidly. “So far, it’s very relaxing.”

  Her hand was now resting on the side of the tub, so Caleb picked it up. Flicked a few stray bubbles off with his tongue. Pressed a kiss into the palm.

  Marissa gave him a mushy smile. “You can help with the spa evening, if you really want to. Otherwise, you might just head home.”

  He wasn’t exactly sure what constituted a full-fledged spa evening, but all the women he’d dated before had always been particularly relaxed and good-natured after they’d returned from being pampered.

  “I’m very happy to help.”

  “Is it just because you want to see me naked?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh at her dry tone. “Maybe a little.”

  She laughed too.

  He rolled up his sleeves. “So what have I missed?”

  “A lot. You missed all the tedious stuff. I gave myself a manicure, and a pedicure, and a facial, and a super-deep conditioning treatment for my hair.” As she spoke, she showed him the relevant body parts.

  Caleb gazed with appropriate appreciation on her pretty fingers and toes, her glowing skin, and her soft, silky hair. “Very nice work,” he said huskily, curling that same stray tendril around his index finger.

  “And now it’s time for the bath and the salt scrub.

  Caleb picked up an expensive looking jar from the other side of the tub. “Is this the salt scrub?”

  “It’s for exfoliating the skin, but also for aromatherapy. I got everything at the same store, so the scents wouldn’t clash.”

  He screwed open the lid of the jar and lifted it to his nose. “Very nice.”

  “It’s vanilla and jasmine,” she explained, holding her arm out of the water. He understood this as a sign that he was supposed to start applying the scrub—since he said he would help—so he scooped some of it out of the
jar and rubbed it over her firm, wet skin. As he worked, she sighed contentedly. “Combined, it’s supposed to be a very sensual fragrance.”

  “Is that right?” Caleb felt a little mesmerized by the texture of the grainy scrub against her skin. He gently rubbed in slow circles, the rough substance gradually fading against the pale luster of her arm.

  Marissa had been watching him, but after a minute, she lolled her head back on the bath pillow. Closed her eyes. “Mmm. This is so much nicer when someone else does it for you.”

  She made a few soft moans as he continued to apply the scrub. He had to reach across the tub to get to her other arm, and in the process he got an excellent view of her nipples poking out from the bubbles.

  The more he rubbed her skin, and the more he heard the languid sounds of her pleasure, and the more he saw of her body, the more erect he became.

  Ignoring his growing arousal, he moved down to the bottom of the tub to tend to her legs. She must have shaved before he arrived because the skin was slick and supple under his fingers. As he massaged the scrub into her flesh and then rinsed it away, her skin became even softer, even smoother.

  He couldn’t reach the submerged tops of her thighs, and she didn’t offer to raise her hips, so he moved to his previous position. She leaned forward so he could access her back.

  He could hear her breathing deeply, slowly. Her already relaxed body loosened even further under his touch. She would occasionally hiss out a word—”Nice,” or “God,” or “Yeah.”

  Caleb was startled by how thrilling he found it to please her in this way. It wasn’t sexual—but it was sensual and deeply physical. And it was entirely new for him.

  When he finished with her back, she reclined back against the tub. Her eyes were closed and she might have been asleep, except she was arching her chest up just a little, pushing her breasts to the surface of the water.

  He wanted to take her up on the silent invitation, but he knew he had to be very careful. Couldn't presume too much. “Marissa,” he asked softly, “Do you want me to…“

  “Yeah. They need exfoliating too.”

  And so he rubbed the grainy scrub very carefully over the delicate skin of her breasts, unable to resist brushing his fingers against her tightening nipples as he worked. She started moaning more deeply at the stimulation—the sound low, throaty, and infinitely erotic.