The Callahan's: Secret Sins Part 8

Suddenly the room was filled with such tension, with such an overwhelming air of hunger, that Anna could barely breathe for it. That hunger pounded through her, burned through her, and tore aside any veil of disinterest or screen of objection. There was only the wild, burning hunger, and her need for Archer.

Lifting her gaze, Anna wondered if it was normal to feel such constriction in her lungs; if she could actually live without air. Because she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

Especially when he moved toward her with that predatory look in his gaze.

"You can sleep in the guest room or you can sleep with me," he stated as he stopped in front of her, the heavy proof of his arousal now at eye level.

Lifting her gaze again, Anna swallowed tightly. The fierce hunger swirling in his eyes warned her that the need was building just as high inside him as it had been in her.

"If I choose your bed?" she asked.

"Then it's without promises, Anna," he warned her, his gaze darkening. "Don't make that mistake, for both our sakes. I won't tell you I love you, and there's no wedding ring waiting when it's over."

"Have I ever asked for a wedding ring, Archer?"

Yet she couldn't deny that dream was there. It was a fantasy she'd had since she was a teenager. The white dress, the veil-and Archer.

"It's in your eyes." His jaw tensed, fire blazing in the golden brown gaze watching her. "It's been there since the night you turned eighteen."

"Are you sure the desire you saw was for a ring, or something a little less-" She let her lashes lower to half-mast. "-acceptable, perhaps?"

Before common sense, embarra.s.sment, or any other sterling qualities her mother had no doubt tried to teach her could kick in, Anna reached for what she had hungered for most. Before inexperience, uncertainty, or fear could overcome six years of fantasy and hunger, she reached out for what she'd always seen as hers alone.

Archer.

Still staring into those wild eyes, Anna reached out with both hands, her nails rasping down his hips as she leaned forward. Her lips pressed against the hard-packed muscles of his flexing abs, her tongue peeking out to take him.

Archer's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his side as she tasted his flesh.

Licking over the indent of his navel she was forced to hold back a moan, one of pure, desperate desire. Slightly salty, heated, clean, and intently male. His flesh was warm beneath her tongue, the hard muscles flexing with innate power.

"f.u.c.k! Anna!" One hand moved, strong fingers threading through the hair at the side of her head. Clenching, his fingers tightened as his expression became darker, more brooding with sensual, s.e.xual heat that burned through her senses.

She'd had years to prepare for this night. Years to ensure he never forgot her touch once she had the chance to touch him.

Years to make d.a.m.ned sure he never forgot being with her.

Fingers bending and hooking in the elastic band of the pants, she slowly eased the material over the thick, heavy length of his c.o.c.k. Thickly erect, blood throbbing through heavy veins, the impressive stalk of male flesh caused her to swallow tightly as she fought back her trepidation.

Fear thundered just beneath the adrenaline rus.h.i.+ng through her system. A fear she refused to pay heed to. Fear of failure. Fear of being unable to measure up to past lovers, no matter the research she'd put into the subject of giving a man a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b he would never forget.

Watching him from beneath the veil of her lashes, Anna flicked her tongue around the shallow indent of his navel again, teasing it with tasting licks as she pushed the material of his pants to his ankles. Standing still and silent before her, he just watched her, his body as stiff as his c.o.c.k, his expression sensually brooding.

Stepping from the light cotton at his feet, Archer continued to watch her, as though certain she would stop. Certain that the intimate caress would not be forthcoming.

Oh, he definitely had a surprise coming if that was what he thought.

Easing back, watching his gaze darken, his jaw tighten, Anna let a small smile tug at her lips.

"I was waiting for you when I fell asleep," she said softly, her nails rasping down the outside of his thighs.

"Were you?" The heavy rasp of his voice sent a shudder of hunger clenching her womb and nipping at the sensitive bud of her c.l.i.t. "Why is that?"

"Because a girl can only wait so long to live a fantasy, Sheriff," she said, her hands sliding to the insides of his thighs where she made a U with the fingers and thumb of one hand and tucked them beneath the taut sac that held his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es.

A sharp, indrawn breath a.s.sured her Archer's attention was fully centered on her now.

Lowering her head, pursing her lips, she blew a soft breath against the surprisingly curl-free male flesh, luxuriating in his response. His hand tightened in her hair, the other gripping her shoulder with a firm hold.

"Anna, be sure about this," he growled.

Oh, she was sure.

Leaning forward, her head bending, she tasted the male flesh, first with her tongue. Licking over the tight sac, probing at the base of his c.o.c.k, then parting her lips and drawing it inside.

She was going to o.r.g.a.s.m from excitement alone.

Both of his hands were in her hair now, his legs s.h.i.+fting, spreading further as she sucked one side of his ball sac into her mouth and laved it with her tongue before moving to the other.

She'd never done this, but he loved it. She could feel him loving it. The iron-hard thickness her fingers had no hope of circling, the rush of blood beneath the silky flesh, the tautness of the sac she caressed, all proved he was loving it.

And if she had any doubts- "f.u.c.k! d.a.m.n you, Anna." His back arched as the rasping curse tore past his lips.

His fingers tightened in her hair, then kneaded her scalp as his thighs parted further, giving her tongue, her lips, room to play.

And how she did enjoy playing there.

Lavis.h.i.+ng attention on first one side of his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es, then the other, she lived the first fantasy. Shuddering, a groan rumbled from him. With his c.o.c.k throbbing in both hands now, she stroked it with firm caresses before another drawing of his flesh into her mouth and suckling at the sphere contained there.

Feeling the heavy throb of blood through the thick veins, Anna licked, laved, tasted the hard, heated flesh before releasing it with reluctance.

"Anna." The rasp of his voice was a sensual stroke of eroticism against her senses.

"My fantasy," she whispered.

Pressing her hand into his chest she eased him back a step and came slowly to her feet.

"Waiting until I lose control is the wrong time to change your mind," he warned her, his expression, his voice, dark and filled with hunger.

"Change my mind?" Anna lifted her hand to the tiny silk tie that held the white robe over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pulled it free, slowly. "Archer, the last thing I intend to do is change my mind."

Archer had to clench his teeth to hold back a demand that she hurry. That she wrap her lips around his d.i.c.k and give him the b.l.o.w. .j.o.b she was promising.

"Ah, h.e.l.l, Anna." The words felt ripped from his throat as he fought to hold back the pleasure and the unfamiliar demands rising inside him. "Ah, baby, that sweet, sweet mouth."

She was destroying him with it.

Keeping his teeth clenched tight, he held the demand back. His arms were stiff at his side. His gaze narrowed, he stared down at her, fighting to deny what he saw in her gaze.

Feminine hunger was tempered by love. Confidence was tempered by inexperience. Need was fueled by all the above-the sight of it was enough to terrify him.

He wasn't terrified enough to pull away from her, though. He didn't dare. His c.o.c.k would probably send agony streaking through his body at the slightest attempt.

As he watched, she rose slowly to her feet and dropped the robe she wore.

That gown was a f.u.c.king wet dream.

No- A wet dream dressed in breast-hugging silk and spandex-in a gown so f.u.c.king romantic, so d.a.m.ned bridal, despite the color, it had his chest tightening with some emotion he could make no sense of.

From the soft lace that cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and lovingly conformed to the gentle curves of her slender waist, to the silk that flowed to the floor in sweeping abundance, it was a bride's gown pretending to be a wicked temptress.

A seductress going to her knees.

"Anna, you don't have to..." The offer cut off in a hoa.r.s.e groan as her fingers gripped the thick flesh, stroking it in slow, even strokes as she brought the heavily flared crest to her parted lips.

Sweet heaven have mercy on him, she was actually going to do it.

Perfect, sweet lips parted.

Free of makeup, pretty green eyes staring up at him with slumberous pa.s.sion through sooty lashes. Her heated, damp tongue peeked out, lashed at the crown, then began tonguing it with pure wicked pleasure as her eyes closed and her attention became completely devoted to pleasuring his d.i.c.k.

Tonguing the satiny head, sweet lips taking heated kisses, and silken hands stroking the thick shaft, she destroyed any doubt that might have flashed through his mind.

Parting her lips further and sucking the head inside, she then set out to destroy his control, which she did far quicker than he could have ever expected.

With lips, tongue, and heated suckling of the too-sensitive crest, she swept his misgivings to the side and convinced him-even as he knew better-that no virgin could ever embrace the sweet, wicked moves she used on his throbbing c.o.c.k.

Tucking beneath the head of the fierce erection, her tongue licked, stroked, tasted, then swirled in intimate abandon around the flared edge. Sucking him back inside the heated depths of her mouth, the vibration of her moans had his thighs tightening, his hands clenching in her hair.

Kneading his fingers against her scalp, Archer bit back a hoa.r.s.e groan, fighting to contain the wild impulse to push her to the floor, hike her gown above her hips, and f.u.c.k her until they were both screaming in o.r.g.a.s.m.

Pleasure exploded through his senses, tore across his nerve endings, and laid waste to any preconceived notions of the pleasure she could give him.

Staring down at her as he watched her lips redden, watched his c.o.c.k f.u.c.k past them in shallow thrusts, Archer knew the thin threads of his control were unraveling by the second.

There was no way to hold back the response or the pleasure erupting inside him.

She pulled back, surprising him by releasing the head of his c.o.c.k, her tongue flattening, her head tilting to the side as her tongue tasted the broad length of his flesh.

Pulsing, tightening, his c.o.c.k throbbed in painful pleasure.

"So f.u.c.king good. That sweet, hot mouth is so f.u.c.king good."

Heat unfurled inside him. It blazed across his nerve endings, shot through his senses and-f.u.c.k!

His knees were weak.

Catching his breath, watching as her head moved lower, that sensual little tongue dancing over his c.o.c.k like an erotic flame, she all but destroyed him. Pleasure burned over his flesh, sank into his pores, and pulsed through his blood like a fever raging out of control.

"Ah, baby, that's f.u.c.king good." Threading his fingers through her hair, letting her lips, her sweet tongue, and mouth have their way, Archer luxuriated in the pleasure. "That tongue's a f.u.c.king wet dream come true."

Even his fantasies about her hadn't been this d.a.m.ned good.

Moving those sweet lips over the head of his c.o.c.k once again, sensation shot through his system. Pure, fiery, pleasure like nothing he'd known before whipped through him.

Flattening her tongue, she licked and laved that ultrasensitive spot beneath the crest. Flicking against it, nudging at it, stroking it with hungry heat until he was certain he was going to go mad with the need to f.u.c.k her.

He was losing the ability to withstand the sensations building in his b.a.l.l.s and whipping through his c.o.c.k. Every muscle in his body was tightened to a point that he felt locked in place, unable to stop the agonizing pleasure. He was unable to stop it and unable to give in to it.

To give in to it meant to take far more from her than he knew her innocence was ready for. Confidence and preparation were two different things. She might be hiding her innocence well, but he could see it in her eyes. In her actions.

She wanted, and she hungered-and her need for him was possibly as great as his need for her. But that need couldn't possibly prepare her for what he wanted from her.

What he needed from her, what he wanted from her, went far beyond what she could possibly be prepared for.

CHAPTER 5.

Archer knew he was reaching the point of no return.

At the first pulsing flex of his c.o.c.k and the pre-come that spilled onto Anna's lips, he knew he was nearing the edge of his control and threatening to fly over it.

A ragged groan tore from him as his fingers tightened in her hair and forced her head back from the tortured shaft. Staring down at her as she lifted those thick, sooty lashes, he stared into the pretty green eyes and acknowledged the fact that he was in way the h.e.l.l over his head. Where this woman was concerned, he was drowning in her, and he had no idea why.

Or how to stop it.

All he knew was that he had to have her, and he had to have her soon.

Throwing her to the floor and f.u.c.king her into mindless o.r.g.a.s.m was his favorite option. It was the option his body was demanding.

She was pure f.u.c.king pleasure, and she was destroying him with the nearing ecstasy rus.h.i.+ng through his body.

She wasn't just pure pleasure.

She wasn't just the most incredible sensations he'd ever known with a woman.

She was pure romance, and she was destroying him with it.

She was the ultimate wet dream wrapped in sweeping silk and lush pleasure.

And Archer couldn't help himself.