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“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
Roseline’s breath caught in her throat as Callan slowly drew her into his arms. Being enveloped in his solid strength soothed her rattled nerves. She relaxed into his embrace, skin tingling everywhere they touched.
Callan’s fingers traced delicate patterns up and down her back while his lips found the sensitive spot on her neck. Roseline sighed, letting her eyes drift shut. She focused on the sensations coursing through her body, pushing aside her doubts.
Callan’s hands drifted lower, settling on her backside and pulling her firmly against him. Roseline gasped as she felt his arousal, hard and insistent. Desire coiled hotly inside her.
“I want you, Roseline,” Callan growled, nipping at her earlobe. “All of you. No need to cover yourself. Hell, I want to worship every single beautiful inch of your body.”
His words washed over her, carrying more meaning than just physical desire. He wanted her, insecurities and all.
Empowered by this realization, Roseline reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She let the plain cotton garment slip down her arms before tossing it aside, baring herself fully to him.
Callan’s eyes blazed as he took in the sight of her. He pulled her against him again, both groaning at the sensation of skin against skin.
“You’re exquisite,” he murmured reverently, hands roaming over her curves.
Roseline arched into his touch, previous doubts vanishing. She claimed his mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all her desire into it. Callan responded in a heart beat, one hand tangling in her hair while the other caressed her breast.
She whimpered against his lips, awash in sensation. The heat of his body seeped into her very bones, chasing away any lingering chill.
Another kiss. Then he was lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all. She gasped as he gently lifted her, carrying her to the bed and placing her down with a care that made her heart race. Her back met the bed, the sheets cool against her fevered skin.
Callan came down over her, caging her in with his arms. “I mean to take my time with you, Roseline Fontenot. I want to experience every fantasy I had about you the moment I arrived here and saw you. Find out all your secrets.”
She shuddered, heat pooling low in her belly. “You think I’ve been hiding things from you?”
“Oh, I know you have.” He nuzzled her neck, his stubble rasping against her throat. “And I aim to uncover each and every one.”
Roseline smiled, sliding her hands up his chest. She’d uncover a few secrets of her own.
Callan kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body with a reverence that made her ache. Every touch ignited her senses, stoking a fire she wanted to completely consume her.
She tugged at his belt, her fingers trembling in her haste to feel his bare skin against hers. He obliged, kicking off his pants and settling over her, the solid warmth of his body easing the restless craving inside her. A soft sound escaped Roseline’s throat, desire spiraling through her veins like liquid fire.
Hers heart raced as his hands slowly unbuttoned her pants. She had been so eager to feel his touch, to lose herself in the sensuality of their connection. But now, as he worked the buttons with a deliberate, almost teasing pace, she found herself growing increasingly impatient.
She wanted him to rip them off her body and take her in his arms, to claim her as his own. But Callan seemed content to savor every moment, every inch of skin exposed.
“Callan,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
But Callan only laughed softly at her urgency. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “You’re going to have to wait for me.”
Roseline gritted her teeth as Callan continued working the buttons on her pants. She had never felt this way before—this intense need for someone else’s touch that left her feeling vulnerable in the best possible way. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
Now fully naked, she clung to him, wanting more but hesitant to push things further. Callan seemed to sense her uncertainty, keeping the kiss unhurried, savoring each caress of her lips.
His patience fueled her longing. Roseline smoothed her hands over the planes of his chest, fingertips tracing the shape of muscle beneath the cotton. When she reached for the hem of his shirt again, Callan broke the kiss.
“Are you sure?” His gaze searched hers, blue eyes dark with hunger but also a tenderness that made her heart ache. “We don’t have to rush this. We have days, weeks, all the time we need.”
His care and worry filled her heart. “I want you,” she whispered, surprised by her own boldness. But it was the truth. She had fallen for this man, this gentle soul who understood her in a way no one else could.
He lifted his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing skin that bore faded scars and bruises. Marks of battles fought and won.
Roseline traced a fingertip along one ragged line, her chest tightening. She knew what it was like to carry old wounds, scars that went deeper than flesh and bone. Her senses were heightened, every touch sending shivers down her spine as she looked up into his dark eyes.
Roseline slid her hands down Callan’s body, savoring the feel of his warm skin and quivering muscles. He groaned as she almost reached the end of his happy trail.
