The Callahan's: Ultimate Sins Part 35

She knew the taste of him. She knew the bruising hardness of his shaft as it filled her mouth, stroking in and out in shallow thrusts, just as she knew the fierce, penetrating force of it between her thighs.

She knew it, and she ached for it.

And d.a.m.n his hide, he was teasing her with it.

Stroking the hard flesh again, his gaze narrowed on her, those oddly colored eyes burning with l.u.s.t, but holding the faintest gleam in their depths that revealed he was a.s.sessing her responses, gauging them, and probably mentally noting which touch, which bit of flesh to kiss, to achieve maximum pleasure and leave her willing to do whatever he wanted.

She knew him.

All her life it seemed, she had watched him, studied him, and now she was curious, very curious as to what he intended to do with whatever information he was gathering.

What he wasn't going to do was make her beg-at least not yet. Give it another five to ten minutes, she thought in resignation, and she'd probably be willing.

Instead she let her fingers play against her stomach, where her hand had rested after he laid her on the mattress. She sc.r.a.ped her nails back and forth over the soft skin, her breath catching at the piercing pleasure that shuddered through her.

This only happened with Crowe. She couldn't give herself this much pleasure, not without his touch as well. And she knew no other man could even come close.

"So d.a.m.ned pretty," he groaned, sending a flood of warmth washing through her. "I've never seen anything prettier than you, especially when you're flushed with pleasure and aching for my touch."

How the h.e.l.l was she supposed to hold on to any self-control, let alone any part of her soul when he said things like that?

Then it didn't matter. Crowe reached out, his fingers touching hers, easing them aside; then he ran the tips over her stomach as she had done.

And it was so good.

So good and so hot, causing her to arch to him, to whimper for more. More of his touches, his kisses, whatever the h.e.l.l he wanted to give her.

Her hand fell from her stomach, her fingers clenching in the sheets beneath her as he ran just the tips of two fingers along the pouting, bare folds of her s.e.x.

"I almost came in my jeans the first time I saw your pretty p.u.s.s.y," he rasped, his voice growing darker, huskier as his touch met the thick layer of juices gathering on the intimate folds. "All swollen, with just this tiniest patch of curls."

Finding the small triangle above her c.l.i.t and brushing his fingers against the curls there, his diabolically knowing fingers also brushed the softest caress against her swollen c.l.i.t.

A surge of sensation rushed from the tiny nub of gathered nerve endings and sent a punch of rapturous sensation to clench her womb. The force of it stole her breath and tightened her belly as a flood of silky juices rushed along the clenched inner channel.

"So wet and ready for me," he whispered, his head lowering to nip at her thigh. "And I can't wait to taste the softest treat I've ever had at my lips."

And she couldn't help but watch. She wanted to watch.

Pushing her weight to her elbows and staring down her body, Amelia watched as he delivered a gentle, light-as-air kiss to her swollen c.l.i.t.

And nearly made her come.

Her hips jerked toward his mouth in response, desperate to hold him to her, to rush over the climactic cliff she could feel awaiting her.

"Don't tease me," she whispered desperately.

"Would I do that, little sugar elf?" he questioned her with such patently false innocence that she knew he would do exactly that.

"You would do that and more," she said, panting and catching his gaze as he looked at her through the thick, spiked lashes that nearly covered his eyes.

"Hmm" was the only response she got before his head lowered again and his tongue wiped through the narrow slit of her p.u.s.s.y.

Amelia fell back, unable to support her weight any longer, even to watch what he was doing to her.

Because it was so good.

It was incredibly good.

His tongue licked in one long stroke through the sensitive flesh, caressing nerve endings that had never been so sensitive, so responsive. As though the anger that had raged through her moments ago had only stimulated her senses for his touch.

Her knees lifted and bent, her feet pressing into the mattress as she thrust her hips to the tormenting lick of his tongue. It flicked through the pouting folds, probing at her tender c.l.i.t, then moved to the saturated entrance of her p.u.s.s.y.

Just when she thought he would impale the aching flesh with his tongue, he pulled back. Tormenting her, teasing her, he flicked a heated lick through the sensitive folds once again. Probing tastes led his tongue to the burning nub of her c.l.i.t, and he caressed the swollen bundle with flicks that threatened to have her begging in far less than the aforementioned five minutes.

h.e.l.l, forget begging, she would be crying. Screaming.

"Crowe. Oh G.o.d, don't tease me like this," she moaned brokenly, her head twisting against the sheets as her hands gripped his hair, holding tight just in case he decided to move or to stop. Oh G.o.d, what would she do if he stopped? She didn't think she would be able to bear it.

Rather than answering, Crowe let a low male groan rumble from his throat and vibrate against her c.l.i.t as she cried out again, her body straining to get closer to his teasing tongue.

She couldn't even close her legs or escape the deliberately taunting licks of his tongue. His hands were flat against her inner thighs, holding them apart, creating the s.p.a.ce he needed to drive her crazy with his touch.

Flashpoints of incredible pleasure reverberated through her p.u.s.s.y, traveled in quick zaps to her womb, then surged to her p.u.s.s.y with sensual little explosions that didn't even come close to release.

"Oh G.o.d, please," she moaned as he licked down the narrow slit.

The taunting licks and kisses moved to the clenched opening of her v.a.g.i.n.a again. There, he rubbed at it with the flat of his tongue until every cell in her body was poised in antic.i.p.ation.

She needed his tongue doing what it was supposed to do there. He was supposed to push it inside the painfully needy flesh and use it to stroke her to release.

And he could, so easily.

Pulsing, painfully clenched, her inner muscles throbbed with the need to be stroked, stretched, and f.u.c.ked. She needed it until she felt poised on a pin edge of agonizing l.u.s.t.

But did he do anything to relieve it?

Did he even try to ease the need burning through her?

Oh, h.e.l.l no.

With his tongue still flattened between the plump folds, he licked back to her c.l.i.t then surrounded the little bud with his lips and gave it deep, erotic kisses that almost-just almost-threw her over that edge.

"d.a.m.n you!" she cried out as he eased back to lay several kisses along the slick, soaked folds.

She couldn't stand it.

Panting, she strained to get closer to him, to convince him to give her just a second of what she needed. Just one hard licking thrust-his tongue surging inside the fluttering, gripping tissue.

"Oh my G.o.d. Crowe yes, oh my G.o.d-" Sensation exploded inside her, tossing her into a chaotic wave of incredible pleasure. Her hips tilted, lifted, desperate for the deepest touch possible.

Just as quickly as he thrust inside her, his tongue retreated.

A quick little thrust, the barest taste of her, and then he was gone.

Completely.

Her eyes opened quickly, staring down her body as his head lifted, his gaze catching hers.

His lips were swollen, damp from her juices, and as she watched he licked them with sensual enjoyment. The gold in his gaze flared as though in response to the taste of her.

"What are you trying to do to me?" she whispered. Her entire body was burning and all too aware of him as he lay between her thighs.

"Touch your b.r.e.a.s.t.s," he whispered. "Let me watch you play with them."

She didn't even think to refuse him or dare to negotiate. She should, she really should, but her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were so sensitive, so aching that any touch would have the potential to push her over the edge.

As she cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her breath caught in her throat, a broken, desperate cry escaping her as a low moan of tortured pleasure.

"Oh yeah, sugar elf," he breathed out roughly.

As though rewarding her for following his command, he slid one hand along the inside of her thigh before his fingers moved to the wet, swollen folds of her p.u.s.s.y.

Parting the aching flesh as he watched her caress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his fingers moved to the aching entrance of her v.a.g.i.n.a. Then they rubbed against it with slow, light movements that circled then pressed against the opening with flirty little touches and near thrusts into the fluttering flesh.

"So pretty," he whispered again, using his tongue for something other than what she was desperate for.

"You're driving me crazy," she cried out.

"Ah, sugar," he crooned. "Not yet. I promise, I have yet to show you what being driven crazy really means."

Or he had yet to understand what being crazy for her meant. Crowe wasn't certain which it was, but he knew he was having a h.e.l.l of a time finding out.

The problem was, he'd started this interesting little excursion for a reason. There had been a point to it. But dammit, he couldn't remember what that point was. All he could concentrate on at the moment was the sweet, sweet, intoxication of her feminine heat and-he swore-the pleasure he could feel pouring from her.

Sweet. Hot. The most intoxicating taste he'd ever known.

Each time he touched her, pleasured her, she spilled her lush taste to his waiting lips. Her body tightened, grew warmer and became more pliable to his touch. She lifted to him, reaching for him as he rimmed the silken entrance to her p.u.s.s.y and teased himself with her taste.

The need to thrust inside her was becoming a hunger raging inside him. To plunge his tongue into the gripping, clenched tissue and feel it rippling around him.

His c.o.c.k throbbed furiously at the thought, eager to do the same. To feel her gripping it, her snug p.u.s.s.y milking his release straight from his b.a.l.l.s.

d.a.m.n her. She made him forget- G.o.d, there was something he was supposed to do-some lesson to teach her, and he just f.u.c.king didn't care what it was anymore.

He tilted his head, his fingers parting the swollen, syrup-slickened folds as his tongue thrust inside her. His need for her overcame anything-everything-else.

The feel of Crowe's tongue pushing inside her, licking against the delicate walls of her p.u.s.s.y, sent desperate, aching surges of sensation of racing through her. Amelia swore she would die if she didn't come. If he didn't make the throbbing ache ease she was going to die.

Reaching, lifting to him, a strangled cry tearing from her throat, she was certain, so certain she would fly straight into that abyss of rapture if he would just speed up the licking thrusts a little. Just a little- That body-clenching, flaming, complete-destruction-of-the-mind pleasure that she'd only found in Crowe's arms had to be within reach.

It was right there.

"Crowe, please!" she gasped, fighting to twist in the grip he had on her hips, tortured, desperate to meet the chaos reaching out for her.

And still, it remained just out of reach.

Torturing her.

Teasing her with that elusive promise of rapture. Hinting at the burning pleasure that was becoming more addictive to her than any drink or drug could ever be.

Just as quickly as she was pushed to that brutal edge, his tongue retreated, his lips leaving the desperate ache between her thighs as he rose between them.

One hand gripped his c.o.c.k, his fingers guiding the heavy stalk of flesh as he came over her. As he fit his hips between her thighs, his gaze locking on hers, Amelia felt her breath catch.

Fiery hot, throbbing, pulsing with demand, he felt so much fuller, thicker than ever as the flared crest pressed against her opening.

Tilting her hips to him, her gaze following Crowe's as it slid down the center of their bodies, she watched- Her breath caught, a whimper leaving her lips as the dark, flushed c.o.c.khead began stretching her, parting the sensitive entrance as he began working it inside her.

The swollen folds of her p.u.s.s.y flared out around it, cupping the very tip of his c.o.c.k until it penetrated her. Slick, glistening with her juices, the snug flesh of her entrance began cupping the crest little by little as he worked it against her.

Sensual flames ignited as she struggled to accept him, her s.e.x tightening, clenching then releasing around the wide crest working its way into the suckling heat.

Lifting her knees to grip his hips, Amelia was unable to turn away from the sight of it. She could not help herself as she both felt and watched the steady impalement of her p.u.s.s.y. The blistering eroticism of the act amped her own arousal to a height she couldn't have imagined reaching before.

She wasn't going to just fly into release when it came. When it came, she was going to explode into it.

"f.u.c.k yes," he moaned, a dark, rough groan that caressed her senses as the head of his c.o.c.k disappeared inside her greedy flesh.

Where it was stopped by the heavy, flexing muscles inside her sensitive v.a.g.i.n.a.

Not that Crowe was about to let that actually stop him.

The pleasure increased for both of them as she was forced to stop watching the penetration, her head falling back and a cry whispering past her lips.

"f.u.c.k me," she moaned, her need for him obliterating everything, anything else. "Please, Crowe. Hard. f.u.c.k me hard. Now."

She wanted that bite of pain. She needed to feel it, as she had before, as his c.o.c.k slid inside her hard and fast.

"Are you sure, baby?" His lips fell to her neck; he was unable to watch himself possess her for even another second but desperate to tease them both with the pleasure just a little longer. "Are you very sure this is what you want?"

"d.a.m.n you, f.u.c.k me," she cried out.

His hips stilled, bunched.