The Callahan's: Ultimate Sins Part 11

It felt as though he had waited forever to touch her.

The stairs were taken two at a time as the heated curves of her lips pressed against the base of his neck. The flick of her tongue seared his flesh with sensation.

She was as ready for him as he was for her. There was no longer any need to allow guilt to flay him, to fear she didn't want him. h.e.l.l yes she wanted-she wanted with the same driving desperation that he felt.

Pushing into the bedroom Crowe kicked the door closed, pausing only long enough to lock the deadbolt before bearing her to the bed.

Somewhere she'd lost a shoe, he thought, as he removed the other and tossed it to the floor before straightening.

"Undress," he said, his fingers going to the b.u.t.tons of his shirt as his voice rasped with the harsh demand.

Vulnerability shadowed her gaze, but her fingers went to the clasp of her pants as he shed his shirt.

She eased the material over her hips as he tore his boots from his feet. Shedding his jeans, he groaned as the sweater came over her head and fell to the side of the bed a second later, along with the bra he'd unclipped downstairs.

Clad in nothing but black silk panties, the long strands of her hair fanning around her face and shoulders like a dark halo, she seemed surrounded by innocence.

Hard-tipped b.r.e.a.s.t.s, swollen and flushed, teased him with the candy-pink promise of her tight nipples. Silken skin sheened with the lightest glimmer of perspiration made her look d.a.m.ned lickable, and there, between her thighs, the black silk of those panties glistened with the evidence of her juices spilling from her s.e.x.

It had been forever since he'd seen her like this, laid out for him, tempting him. Forever since he'd touched her.

His gaze licked over her, from the dampness of her panties to the tight peaks of her nipples.

Then he stared down at the band of her panties again, drawn by a slight shadow peeking out, drawing his interest.

"Take the panties off," he demanded, his gaze moving to her face as she hesitated.

Her eyes flicked to his heavy erection as her fingers clenched in the blankets beneath her. A pink flush of hunger filled her face, washing down her neck and to her already tempting b.r.e.a.s.t.s as her gaze lifted to his almost shyly.

Amelia, shy: Even as a virgin she hadn't hesitated to give him whatever he demanded of her. h.e.l.l, just six weeks before she had nearly allowed him to have her on that d.a.m.ned counter in the kitchen.

Why hadn't he noticed this then?

His gaze lowered to that shadow again.

Had she actually had her soft flesh inked? And if she had, why was she hesitant to let him see it?

Moving, he stretched out on the bed beside her, his fingers going to the band of her panties. Before he could push the elasticized silk lower, her hand was there to stop him.

She covered the shadow with her fingers as she drew her lower lip between her teeth indecisively.

"You know I'm going to see what it is," he told her softly. "Why are you trying to hide it?"

A frown edged at her brow. "You weren't supposed to pay attention to it."

He had to laugh a bit at that. "Baby, anything that's touched your sweet flesh has great interest to me, especially if it's permanent. I'm a d.a.m.ned jealous man, remember?"

So jealous, it had been all she could do to keep him from revealing their affair each weekend, seven years before.

"Just turn the lights out," she demanded, her brow wrinkling as he pushed at her hand.

Crowe only shook his head before catching her wrist in his hand and pulling it effortlessly over her head, along with the other wrist, and holding them captive.

He didn't glance back up at her, but let his fingers stroke the silken flesh above the band of her panties.

"When did you have it done?" he asked. The thought of the mark below the material had his d.i.c.k aching with greater intensity.

"The day before I married-" A hard breath eased from her lips as his fingers touched the dampness of her panties before she could utter that despicable name.

A moan whispered from her lips instead as he gazed from the moisture-soaked crotch of her panties back to the edge of that intriguing little shadow.

G.o.d, he was dying to see it, yet a part of him was terrified of what it could be.

She had gotten a tattoo the day before she married. He knew there wasn't a chance the inked brand had any significance to Stoner Wright. What then had been so important to her?

Slowly, his gaze trained on the area, Crowe pulled the band of her panties lower, his breath catching, his jaw locking at the first sight of his wily, impossibly imaginative Amelia.

How long it must have taken to complete that tattoo. But she had done it. There, inked on her delicate flesh, sat a pretty, forlorn little fairy, chin propped on delicate arms that lay across her knees, glaring out at the world. Daring the watcher, determined in her stubborn refusal to relent- Or daring them to breach the silken material of her panties.

"My fairy-girl," he whispered, brushing his fingers over the colorful little tattoo. "Always mine."

"That wasn't for you," she protested unconvincingly, though the slight moan in her voice as his finger trailed to her thigh spoiled the power of the statement. "I liked fairies before you ever called me that."

And she had. That first time he'd had her had been the night of the county's fantasy-themed social weekend.

"And what a beautiful little fairy you made," he breathed out, his gaze lifting to her once again as that particular memory only made his c.o.c.k harder. "You were especially beautiful, spread out in the moonlight, the material of that pretty fairy dress hiked above your hips as I ate your fairy p.u.s.s.y."

The blunt, explicit words had heat washing across her face as he stared back at her, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Crowe, that's raw," she berated him, breathless now as his fingers stroked closer to the slick, waxed folds of her glistening s.e.x.

"You waxed for me then, too, didn't you, Amelia?" he whispered. "The only curls you left were these right here."

His fingers feathered across the soft fluff on her mound, just above her c.l.i.t.

"For me," she stated, a moan leaving her lips as her hips jerked upward at the feather-light stroke of his fingers above the swollen, naked inner lips.

"Lie to yourself if you have to, fairy-girl," he teased, then his expression stilled, his gaze caught by that d.a.m.ned, defiant little fairy inked into her flesh. He whispered, "So sweet. So d.a.m.ned pretty."

He wasn't surprised that he'd never found a woman who could compare to her. No other woman had ever made him feel the things Amelia made him feel, or made him burn as she made him burn.

Laying a heated kiss along her thigh he moved between her legs, slowly spreading them before easing himself into position to taste the swollen, lush flesh he'd dreamed of tasting again.

Amelia watched, barely able to breathe. Heat washed through her senses, antic.i.p.ation flooding her bloodstream.

Finally, oh G.o.d, finally- Her back arched, her feet digging into the bed to lift herself closer as he laid an erotic, far-too-short kiss on her sensitive flesh.

She needed more.

As his gaze lifted to her and the wicked intent in his expression registered, she barely had time to draw in a hard, deep breath. His tongue licked through the saturated folds, a hum of appreciation vibrating against her flesh. Crowe took instant, hungry advantage of the dampness spilling from her s.e.x.

Amelia's hips jerked, pressing more firmly into the caress as his fingers parted the dewy flesh. With each rasp of his tongue over the entrance of her v.a.g.i.n.a, she felt more of the damp warmth gathering inside before it spilled to his lips. Pleasure rushed through her senses in waves, flooding every corner of her being. Nothing else mattered in this moment.

Only this.

Clenching her fists in the blanket beneath her, panting in rising excitement, her body burned, pulsed with sensation. Ever-deepening pleasure crashed through her. Radiant heat raced from each inch of flesh his lips and tongue caressed as the fiery ache for more began to build inside the depths of her v.a.g.i.n.a.

"Crowe!" she gasped moments later as his lips covered her c.l.i.t in a teasing kiss.

Spikes of imperative ecstasy shot through the sensitive bud, nearly sending her spiraling into chaos.

So close.

A keening wail of pleasure tore from her lips as she felt herself reaching for the sensual peak, only to have him pull back.

"Please, Crowe, please," she begged.

That edge of rapture taunted her, just out of reach.

"Oh, sugar elf, how I intend to please you," he groaned, laying a gentle kiss on her c.l.i.t before moving lower, before destroying her senses.

His tongue licked, stroked, rimmed her sensitive entrance. When she was certain she couldn't bear it another second he sent it pushing forcefully into the clenched, gripping tissue in a thrust that nearly pushed her into the flames of rapture.

The first time he had penetrated her with the wicked thrust of his tongue, she had just turned eighteen. The shocking caress, the pure carnality of it had thrown her into her first explosive climax.

Now the erotic kiss had her burning for more, aching, needing a deeper, harder caress. She was no longer content to accept mere carnality. She wanted that erotic pain, that sweet, fiery lush sensation that melded ecstasy and agony into a blinding kaleidoscope of dark, vicious rapture.

She wanted what she had never had.

She wanted that part of him that she knew he held back from her seven years ago.

"You're killing me, Crowe. Please stop teasing..." The demand was fueled by a certainty that whatever sensation her body was begging for, Crowe could deliver. His tongue retreated, his hungry lips moved to the throbbing bud of her c.l.i.t, but still he teased.

Swollen, pulsing with need, the bundle of nerves ached and throbbed with such desperation that the quick, firm little kisses he bestowed on it weren't nearly enough.

Those kisses tormented her.

The hungry licks and quick thrusts only made sensation and the rising pulses of near o.r.g.a.s.m radiant with fiery longing. She couldn't bear it. She would never find her release, never explode with all the burning power she could feel building inside her.

Her hips writhed uncontrollably. She fought for a sensation she had no idea how to attain. A hunger for a pleasure she had no idea how to ask for burned through her senses. She feared she would be burned alive in the flames.

Sensing the roiling need surging through her body, Crowe increased the pressure of the lashing licks against the most sensitive area of her c.l.i.toris and almost growled in satisfaction.

It wasn't enough for her.

She needed more, he could feel it. All that trapped carnal hunger he'd sensed burning inside her seven years ago was now clawing to be free.

Her body was silently begging for more. The cries falling from her lips were a demand for more. The heat radiating from her flesh, reaching out for him, a.s.sured him she was now ready for more.

Her hips lifted to him, grinding the fiercely swollen bud of her c.l.i.t harder against his lips and tongue as her body shuddered with the rising demands.

Oh little fairy-girl, just let me show you what you need.

The thought faded beneath the discovery of more of the slick, thick feminine sweetness spilling from her p.u.s.s.y. It coated the swollen, parted inner lips, spilled down the silken cleft, and laid a layer of natural lubrication over the tiny, puckered entrance between her b.u.t.tocks.

G.o.d, he'd dreamed of this.

His hand lifted from one hip, drew back just a bit, then fell to land against the soft, rounded curve of her rear in an erotic, heated caress. A precursor to all he intended to give her.

Her hips jerked. A cry echoed around him as she bucked against him, pushing her c.l.i.t against the tight heat of his mouth as he suckled it inside.

He'd been dying to give her this. Dreamed of taking her with all the dark eroticism he'd hesitated to unleash on her seven years ago. Tender and so innocent, he'd been certain he'd terrify her with the hunger tormenting him. She'd been too young. Her senses had been too innocent.

She wasn't eighteen anymore.

She was a woman. His woman. And just as she now ached for the dark s.e.xuality inside him, he'd ached for seven years to give it to her.

The light, heated little slap against her bottom as Crowe's lips sucked her c.l.i.t into the burning heat of his mouth sent a hard, rolling wave of sensation tearing through her.

That edge of long-awaited, only barely perceived hunger burned brighter now.

The next heavy caress landed harder, stilling the frantic roll of her hips.

"Like that, sugar elf?" he growled. "Or this?"

His lips released her.

"No. Don't stop." She tried to reach for him, her eyes flaring open, the sudden desertion driving spikes of clenched desperate need through her c.l.i.t and into her womb.

The hand that landed on her b.u.t.tocks laid a heated caress over the mound of her p.u.s.s.y.

Amelia froze.

Eyes wide, she stared back at him as that firm caress exploded against her slick, wet flesh. A breath later it pierced her c.l.i.t with enough force to drop her back to the bed, her back bowing, pleasure suddenly exploding through her senses with the force of an erotic tidal wave.

It tore through her. It ravaged her senses and caused her hips to jerk upward as a breathless cry exploded from her lips.

"f.u.c.k."

She barely heard the exclamation as it fell from Crowe's lips. One second she was shuddering in a peak of such agonizing need she wondered if she'd survive it. In the next a strangled scream parted her lips at the heavy, blunt force parting the intimate entrance and thrusting several inches inside the gripping channel of her v.a.g.i.n.a.

Amelia forced her eyes open once again in time to direct her gaze between her thighs.