First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

“I’m sorry, Ian,” she said, and he wished she would stop apologizing. “Are you upset with me?”


She had to stop looking at him with those big doe eyes or he was going to kiss her until she lost consciousness. Then again, he might just do that anyway, but he needed to taste her. Soon.

Could he ever be upset with her when she looked at him like that? No, not seriously, but Ian was not a fool. The slightly wicked part of him pointed out the glaring possibilities that the right response might elicit.

“A little,” he fibbed, wishing his voice wasn’t quite so husky. Then he felt her melt into him, and almost felt bad for misleading her. Yes, he was upset, but only because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. But he knew that’s not how she understood it.

“Can I make it up to you?” she asked, her voice far too seductive to belong to a woman who had been innocent only a few days ago. Either she was a really fast learner or he brought it out in her. He preferred to think it was the latter.

Ian appeared to consider her question, but he already had a plan in mind. She would regret leaving him alone in her room while she took that extended shower yesterday. He had made good use of the time.





Chapter Fifteen




“Read to me,” he said, surprising her. Lexi’s head lifted from his shoulder. He fought to hold in a grin as he handed her the Salienne Dulcette novel from the nightstand. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Start on page 129, if you don’t mind,” he said.

For a moment he wasn’t sure she’d comply, but he saw the instant her eyes changed from surprised to excited and aroused. Ian pulled her onto him, letting the proof of his own desire press into her lower belly. Her weight felt good, comforting. As long as she was touching him, he could control himself. If she pulled away, all bets were off.

She opened the book against his chest, and looked at him questioningly.

“Go on,” he encouraged, his hands strategically placed along her well-rounded hips. She took a deep breath – he loved the way her breasts pressed into him as she did – and began to read.

He was easily the biggest man she had ever seen, sinfully adorned with smooth bronze flesh and rippling layers of muscle, one atop the other until it formed a relief that would take hours, days, years to learn intimately. She trembled at the sight of him, at the hungry look in his eyes, as she sat on the bed in her prim little white nightgown.

“On your knees,” he growled, removing his belt with one fluid, erotic movement. The leather snapped in the air, making her flinch, but he didn’t mistake the look in her eyes for fear. It was arousal, pure and potent.

When she made no move to obey, he grabbed her, flipping her onto her stomach. With one hand spanning her back he held her down easily, even as she wriggled against him. His other hand slipped beneath the hem of her gown, his hands rough and calloused, rasping along the back of her thighs, sending bolts of pleasure right into her core. Despite herself, she cried out.

The panties she wore were torn viciously from her with no regard for their worth, only the barest brush of his fingers against her swollen sex when she craved so much more. He smirked as he raised his hand and landed heavy, the resounding crack loud in the quiet room. But his smirk vanished and his eyes darkened when he beheld the rush of wetness his little caress had running down her thighs. It was supposed to be a night of seductive torture as he readied her for him, but he soon realized that he was the one in danger of being tortured.

“Lift your ass to me,” he growled, harsher and huskier than before as his cock strained against the limits of his jeans.

“No.”

The simple denial, spoken with obvious effort, had the first droplets of come pearling along his swollen head. She was going to be the death of him, surely.

“I said, lift your ass to me.”

A shiver ran the length of her spine before she once again answered, “No.”

Holding her upper back firmly against the mattress, his other arm snaked beneath her hips and pulled roughly upward. Before she could react, he dove between her legs, pulling her over him to straddle his face. Every effort against him was futile; he held her locked in place, his arms as strong as his resolve.

She tried to withhold her cries, but it was impossible with his wicked mouth, tongue and teeth on her. He devoured her as if he was a starving man and she was a king’s banquet. Long slow licks, teasing nips; he sucked her between his lips and then dipped his tongue into her hot entrance. He moaned, loudly, as if in great pain as she spilled even more for him.