“Brat,” he said. When she chuckled, he thrust forward. When she cried out he leaned in and captured her lips.
You truly belong to me now and I love you, Callum wanted to say, but knew that he couldn’t. Instead, after her body had adjusted to his, he began moving. Every stroke into her body was a sign of his love whether she knew it or not. One day when she could accept it, she would know and he would gladly tell her everything.
He needed to kiss her, join his mouth to hers the same way their bodies were joined. So he leaned close and captured her mouth, kissing her thoroughly and hungrily, and with a passion he felt through every cell in his body. When she instinctively began milking his erection, he deepened the kiss.
And when he felt her body explode, which triggered his to do likewise, he pulled his mouth from hers to throw his head back to scream her name. Her name. No other woman’s name but hers, while he continued to thrust in and out of her.
His body had ached for this for so long, his body had ached for her. And as a climax continued to rip through them, he knew that, no matter what, Gemma Westmoreland was what he needed in his life and there was no way he would ever give her up.
Eleven
Sunlight flitting across her face made Gemma open her eyes and she immediately felt the hard muscular body sleeping beside her. Callum’s leg was thrown over hers and his arms were wrapped around her middle. They were both naked—that was a given—and the even sound of his breathing meant he was still asleep.
The man was amazing. He had made love to her in a way that made her first time with a man so very special. He’d also fed her last night the tasty meal he’d prepared, surprising her and proving that he was just as hot in the kitchen as he was in the bedroom.
She drew in a deep breath, wondering which part of her was sorer, the area between her legs or her breasts. Callum had given special attention to both areas through most of the night. But with a tenderness that touched her deeply, he had paused to prepare a warm, soothing soak for her in his huge bathtub. He hadn’t made love to her since then. They’d eaten a late dinner, and returning to bed, he had cuddled her in his arms, close to his warm, masculine body. His hands had caressed her all over, gently stroking her to sleep.
And now she was awake and very much aware of everything they’d done the night before. Everything she’d asked him for, he had delivered. Even when he had wanted to stop because last night was her first time, she had wanted to experience more pleasure and he had ended up making it happen, giving her what she wanted. And although her body felt sore and battered today, a part of her felt that last night had truly been worth it.
Deciding to get a little more sleep, she closed her eyes and immediately saw visions of them together. But it wasn’t a recent image. She looked older and so did he and there were kids around. Whose kids were they? Certainly not theirs. Otherwise that would mean…
Her eyes sprang open, refusing to let such an apparition enter her mind. She would be the first to admit that what they’d shared last night had overwhelmed her, and for a moment she’d come close to challenging everything she believed about relationships between men and women. But the last thing she needed to do was get offtrack. Last night was what it was—no more, no less. It was about a curious, inexperienced woman and a horny, experienced man. And both had gotten satisfied to the nth degree. They had both gotten what they wanted.
“You’re awake?”
Callum’s voice sent sensations running across her skin. “Who wants to know?”
“The man who made love to you last night.”
She shifted her body, turned to face him and immediately wished she hadn’t. Fully awake he was sexy as sin. A half asleep Callum, with a stubble chin, drowsy eyes and long eyelashes, could make you come just looking at him.
“You’re the one who did that to me last night, aren’t you?”