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He licked again, slipping one finger inside me. “Mm. So good to know that. I think I’m going to need that picture framed and hung over my bed.”
He tenderly bit my clit, then blew a breath on the inferno of my sex. He lifted upward and snagged one of the condoms from the nightstand. I wrapped my fingers around his dick as he ripped the foil and in a matter of seconds had displaced my grip and rolled the latex over the hard, hot shaft.
He stretched over me, dipped a hand under one of my knees and pulled my leg up, opening me wide. He kissed me as he slipped his tip inside then held still, his lightly-furred chest brushing my lips. I tongued his nipple, making him gasp.
His breath in my ear was strained. “I don’t think I can hold back.”
“Then don’t,” I whispered and nuzzled his chin.
My body slipped on the bed as he thrusted all the way in. My sheath expanded to accommodate his girth, and I sighed as he pushed deeper, held, then slowly withdrew. I tightened around him, to keep him from withdrawing completely, but it wasn’t necessary. He moved forward again, pulled back, and surged forward again.
The rhythm and pace he set was exciting, and I lifted my leg over his shoulder, encouraging him deeper, each stroke of his cock building the sensation of soaring along my nerves, each touch of his pubic bone to my clit amplifying the feeling.
“Come with me, Catie,” he groaned. “Come now.” Our bodies rocked in tandem, his head brushing the headboard with each stroke.
And I went, flying over the edge with a breathless shriek, echoed in the deeper tones of his groans as he came with me, two souls and bodies in harmony during a beautiful symphony of nerve endings stretched taut like strings of a violin or cello, then rising to a crescendo.
Callan collapsed onto my chest, pushing any remaining oxygen from my lungs. I hauled in a deep breath, and he shifted to his side. He cupped the back of my thigh as my knee fell from his shoulder. I closed my eyes and drifted, enjoying the feel of his still stiff cock inside me, the sensuous slide of his fingertips over my flesh, the heat and humidity of his breath on my neck.
“This is heaven and I’m never moving,” I finally managed to say.
His only response was the press of his lips to my ear and the tightening of his fingers behind my knee.
From down the stairs, we heard a slightly plaintive whimper, followed by a sharp bark.
Callan’s chest huffed against my breast and bicep. “Why’d I get a dog?”
“It was so I’d agree to let you have your way with me.” I laughed. “I’m a sucker for a man with a dog.”
He lifted on one elbow, pulling free of my body. “It was a great strategy. Worked like a charm.”
“Sorry, bud. That’s not what did it for me. It was your resemblance to a Viking stud.”
He flopped to his back and rolled me over to him. “I do have a mighty sword.”
I groaned. “No you didn’t…”
His laugh was pained. “I did, but I can’t believe I did.”
He was still laughing as he kissed my forehead and then disentangled himself. He climbed off the bed and staggered toward the bathroom. I blinked against the bright light before he partially closed the door. After a moment, the water ran, then the light went back out.
The bed dipped as he knelt beside me and captured my mouth with his. His kiss lingered; his hand cupped one of my shoulders. Then he pulled the coverlet around my shoulders. “Be right back. I’m going to check on Elvis.”
I scooched deeper under the covers and yawned.
“God, you are so cute.” He stroked a hand through my messy curls, then spun for the door, walking into the hallway without a stitch of clothing on. And you can bet your last dollar that I watched his sexy behind all the way out, until he disappeared from view.
I rolled on my side, not sure which side of the bed was Callan’s, but willing to stake my claim in his bed. He’d gotten me there, and I was certain I never wanted to leave.
19
CALLAN
“Elvis, you ruined a moment,” I complained to my new pet. Seriously, what had I been thinking?
I stood at the edge of the patio, the warm air caressing my naked, still heated flesh. I was more than grateful that I hadn’t turned on any lights except in the laundry room so I could see the leash hanging on the peg across from the washer. I was comfortable walking around naked in my own house. Knowing that the view from the lake was limited, and James’ place was over a rise and located in a bit of a hollow helped. And most likely he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if I was clothed or not, unless he had company. Which hadn’t happened in the year I’d known him. But if Catie had it right about James and Aspen, and things there did take a turn, I’d have to at least put on pants and a hoodie for these late night walks.
Elvis tugged on his leash as he explored the bushes bordering the patio. I pulled back, letting him know who was in charge, although, truth be told, it was him. I made a mental note to check into the doggy training school, either at Barks and Recreation, or somewhere else. Elvis was a great dog, but we needed to establish a rhythm of our own. One that didn’t interfere with times when I was lucky enough to have Catie in my bed. Which I hoped would be nightly from now on.
