House Calls (Callaghan Brothers #3)

That voice was pure fantasy. Deep and throaty, breathless and thick with desire. Her gaze dropped from his face to the hand concealed within his pants. Obediently, he pulled them down over his hips. Her eyes widened at the sight of his fully erect manhood straining toward her. He began to stroke himself in perfect synchronization with the roll of her hips.

Michael leaned over and took one hard nipple into his mouth. Her whispered moan became a soft cry that nearly did him in. He scraped the diamond tip with his teeth, then sucked. Hard.

*

It felt so good; so damn good. Her initial embarrassment was nowhere to be found, shoved aside with brutal force by the wave of desire Michael had created. It continued to build, lifting her higher and higher. She wriggled wildly beneath him, the lift of her hips becoming increasingly erratic as rational thought ceased and she just felt. Felt his lips. Felt his teeth. Felt the press of his heated flesh in the chill of the room.

He tortured her with his mouth, sucking and biting with hard little nips that made her cry out, followed by long, slow licks that made her shudder and moan. There was no doubt about it; this man knew more about what she needed than she did, and she would willingly surrender to his expertise.

She felt the wave beginning to crest, but it was so much more powerful than anything she had experienced at her own hand. The tension, the pressure continued to rise and she was afraid to open her eyes. Her movements became wild and desperate, her breaths shallow and ragged. And then, just when she was about to break into a thousand tiny pieces, that was when, in one swift motion, he pulled the vibrator from her hand and spread her legs, burying his face nose to chin against her sex.

She cried out again in surprise, but welcomed him by burying her fingers in his hair. No man had ever gone down on her before. She’d read about it, dreamed about it, imagined it - but the reality was so much better. He murmured against her soft folds, curses and praises that only partially registered in her fevered brain.

*

“Ah, Maggie,” he moaned. “That’s it, baby. So sweet.” He pulled her legs up over his shoulders for a better angle as he gave her one long, slow lick. Her entire body shuddered beneath him and he smiled wickedly. Michael glanced at her face, saw her looking at him with half-lidded eyes heavy with desire, desperate with need. He knew then that it was a look he wanted to see over and over again.

“Michael,” she gasped, opening herself to him. The sound of his name in that breathless, pleading voice sent a fresh wave of need through him. “Michael, please. Don’t stop.” Happy to oblige, Michael dipped his head and continued where he had left off.

Ah, fuck, he thought as he filled his mouth with the taste of her. Like candy, like some decadent dessert. He could be happy here, suckling her forever, filling his mouth and nose with nothing but Maggie. Possession fired through his body. His Maggie. Her scent, her taste was a part of him forever now, burned into his senses like a brand.

His lips kissed hers, tugging lightly. His tongue dipped inside her, coating itself with her sweet cream. His long arms reached around her legs and fondled her breasts, so full and heavy, spilling over his palms.

“Oh, God, Michael, I’m coming... I’m coming...” Her cry was a sob, a desperate plea. He redoubled his efforts, sliding his tongue across and around her most sensitive spots, then dipping inside her as he felt the first tremble. He held on tight as her legs squeezed around him and began to shake uncontrollably. Dear God, her whole body seized as the powerful orgasm overtook her and she grabbed for him as if he was the only thing that could keep her from blasting away.

Michael had never felt such a raw, primal need. Before she finished, he placed himself between her legs, his thick, swollen head pressed against her entrance. Her eyes widened again but she reached for him. He pushed against her, into her, inch by glorious inch as she stretched around him, thankful for the deluge of wetness that eased his passage. With each deepening of his penetration, she cried out again as it prolonged her climax.

Finally seated balls-deep, Michael slipped his arms underneath her and held on as she continued to seize around him. Each contraction was powerful, gripping him in rippling waves. He clenched his back teeth, fighting against the seed rising within him. Just a little longer. He needed just a little longer.

Her eyes were pleading, needy, for him and him alone. She stopped shaking as he kissed her, long and deep and tender. She was so unbelievably tight, clenching him, spasming against his intrusion, cradling his body as no one ever had. Her hands reached up and grasped his shoulders, cupped the back of his head.

Nothing, nothing, had ever felt so good.

Michael remained still and deep, fighting the animalistic urge to pound into her. He stretched her to her limits, filled her as far as possible. That in itself was amazing to him – that she had taken him – all of him. He hung heavy against her slick folds, filled to bursting, tight with need and aching for release.