Secret Sins

by Lora Leigh

  A tear fell down her cheek as all the years of loneliness and unanswered questions began to come together in her head.

  It had taken a while for her senses to clear of the sedative Amory had given her. With the slow dissipation of the drug, Anna found herself putting so many things together.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Archer said.

  A second later Anna found herself in his arms, her ear against his chest, the feel and the sound of his heart a comforting beat beneath her head.

  “That’s why they kept me away from the Callahan cousins,” she said. “Away from Crowe and Corbin County. That birthmark.”

  Shaking her head, she moved away from Archer, turned and faced him again as fists clenched at her side. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard about the Callahan mark since I moved into Sweetrock? Or how the Callahans were marked so there was no way one of them could hide?” A sharp pain-filled laugh left her lips. “And I was so stupid, because I didn’t even think to question the unusual mark I carried myself.”

  The birthmark resembled a broken arrow with the point pointing toward the middle of her back.

  “I hate them,” she suddenly screamed, anger pouring through her, from her now. “I hate them. I hate their lies and deceit, and I hate all the years we had to suffer and all the evil that thought it could destroy us. I hate it!”

  She was sobbing. Her heart was breaking in her chest as she felt the strength that had kept her upright suddenly leaving her knees. She was sinking and the only thing that kept her from falling to the floor was Archer.

  “I have you, baby,” Archer said as he caught her and pulled her against him again. “I have you, Anna, and I won’t let you go. I swear I won’t let you go.”

  Her hands fisted in his shirt as she held on to him, her tears dampening the fabric.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, my heart.” His words shocked her, stealing her breath for one long, impossibly unreal moment before she forced herself not to question it, not to hope for more.

  “You—” She shook her head. “You knew I was a Callahan?”

  His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, a thumb brushing a tear from beneath an eye. “I saw the birthmark, really saw it, last night. I hadn’t paid enough attention and I’m sorry for that, sweetheart. I should have known, but to be honest, I’ve only seen it once, and it was a lot of years ago.”

  “I’m scared, Archer.” A bitter, broken sob escaped her lips.

  Thankfully, she was able to hold the rest of them back. She didn’t want to cry now, not now. First she wanted to figure out how to handle it all.

  “Even knowing what we’re going to face when all this blows up,” she said, “will you still want Sarah Ann Callahan?”

  Would he ever be able to love her?

  As the question left her lips, she saw Archer’s gaze lift to a point behind her as he suddenly stiffened, his golden brown eyes narrowing.

  Anna jerked around in his arms, staring at the three men standing in the kitchen doorway at the foyer, staring back at her with anger so deep and black that for a moment, one helpless moment, she felt consumed by it.

  Then Crowe blinked. He blinked and swallowed tightly, glancing away for a second as his cousins stared back at her in shock.

  “He couldn’t help but love you,” Crowe said, turning back to her, his tone as bleak as his expression. “Just as I couldn’t help but love you, even when I believed you were my cousin and no better than any other Corbin you lived with.”

  His voice was so hoarse, so ragged, Anna flinched.

  “You didn’t know?” she’d wondered, feared he had and hadn’t wanted her.

  “If I had known, you would have never been left alone all those years,” he swore, his wolf eyes burning with inner fury and pain. “God help me, I would have given it all up. I would have given those bastards whatever they wanted, Anna, to know you were alive and to protect you from the isolation you suffered. If I had known—” As though he couldn’t bear his thoughts or the sight of her any longer, Crowe turned and stalked away.

  Seconds later, the slam of the front door caused her to flinch violently and a sob to escape her lips as she faced her cousins.

  They were her cousins too, not just Crowe’s. They were her family.

  Logan and Rafer stared back at her as though she were an apparition, a ghost so insubstantial they couldn’t be certain she was actually standing there.

  “John Caine told us to be here.” Logan cleared his throat as he glanced at Archer, shifting his stance and running his fingers through his hair with a rough movement. “We weren’t eavesdropping. When you came in, we came looking for you.” He shrugged uncomfortably.

  “It’s okay, Logan,” Archer breathed out roughly.

  Logan’s lips tightened before, with a jerky movement, he was suddenly stalking across the room.

  Anna didn’t know what she expected, but she hadn’t expected Logan to pull her away from Archer and into an almost desperate hug. “Welcome back, cuz,” he murmured at her ear. “It’s damned good to see you.”

  As he stepped back, Rafer was there as well to pull her into his embrace.

  “Crowe will come back, you’ll see,” he told her. “When he was a kid, he would hide and cry for his little lost sister just as much as he hid and cried for his parents. He’ll be back.”

  She nodded as he released her.

  “Archer.” Rafer extended his hand. “I hope we’re welcoming you into the family, man, because you break her heart, and Crowe just might kill you. I know for a fact we will.” He grinned.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Archer promised as he accepted the handshake.

  He turned back to Anna then. “Crowe will be back when he can think again. I promise.”

  Anna nodded, then watched as the two men left the kitchen through the foyer. Seconds later, the front door closed firmly.

  She turned back to Archer slowly. “You were going to tell them, weren’t you?” she asked.

  “Only after I told you,” he promised, his rough features tightening into a grimace. “It’s been kept from the four of you too long now. You deserved to know.”

  Reaching up, she laid her hand against his hard jaw as he stared down at her, all the emotions, the gentleness and the love she had dreamed of seeing clearly reflected in his eyes.

  “I thought I’d lost you.” He lifted a hand and covered hers, holding it against his face. “When I realized Callie had been attacked to draw me away from you, I felt everything in my world turn dark, Anna. I’ve loved you all along and I wasn’t even smart enough to realize it.”

  “Of course you realized it,” she told him with a teary smile. “You haven’t let me go even once since you came after me, Archer. You knew, you were just too stubborn to admit it.”

  He nodded slowly. “Okay, we can work with that explanation,” he promised, a smile tugging at his lips. “We can work with that.”

  His lips touched hers. “I can work with anything but losing you.”

  What had started as a soothing kiss became something more, something far deeper than Archer had expected.

  His lips brushed hers, parted them, let the taste of her draw him in, and the sudden feeling of a connection, a bonding he hadn’t known how to describe before, tightened around them again.

  It had always been there, he realized. Since the first moment his lips touched hers, it had been there.

  Her breathing accelerated, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink as her pert little tongue swiped nervously over her lips, brushing against his and sending a surge of lust to explode in his senses.

  She had come to him, had given every part of herself, even believing he didn’t believe in love. He could see it in her eyes every time he had touched her; he had seen the hunger and need for his love, the need to love him fully, openly.

  There was no way he could turn from the aching feminine need that matched the hardcore vein of emotion throbbing inside him.

  Archer brushed
his lips against hers.

  Holding her gaze with his, he watched as the agony slowly eased from her eyes, the inner pain and conflict being replaced with a slow, easy quest for pleasure.

  That was what he wanted. He wanted that dark pain eradicated, and if this was the only way to do it, then who was he to deny her? After all, there was nothing he ached for more than her heart, her touch, her kiss.

  His cock throbbed with aching insistence beneath his jeans as he eased the kiss into a deeper caress. Brushing against her lips again, again using his own lips to slowly part hers, he watched the pleasure build in her gaze.

  Archer took her kiss slow and easy.

  Leaning into her, his head tilted as she lifted hers up to him, giving him unlimited access, giving him everything he could have ever wanted in life.

  His kiss was hot and tempting. The need beginning to flame through her body, arrowing between her thighs and striking at her clitoris and vagina, rose with the knowledge that she didn’t just love, she was loved in return.

  Each time his lips sipped at hers, his tongue licked at hers, sensation swirled at the sensitive, nerve-laden flesh between her thighs as though ghostly kisses were being laid at her pussy as well.

  Tightening her thighs, a little whimper escaped her and slipped into the air around them. Beneath her fingers the hard muscles of his shoulders bunched, flexed as though the battle to hold his hunger back was as much physical as mental and emotional.

  Anna, innocent though she might be, had been kissed before Archer. She hadn’t just accepted that she belonged to Archer. She had often at least attempted to find pleasure, to find happiness without him.

  It just hadn’t existed without him, that was all.

  Pressing her lips further apart, Archer’s tongue licked against hers, teasing her to play.

  She wasn’t completely certain how to play yet, but following his lead, she licked back at him, retreating quickly, only to lick at his lips as he eased back, to shift her head just enough to evade a full possession of his lips before nipping at his lower lip when he returned.

  At that little nip Archer’s arms tightened around her. Pulling her closer to the hard strength of his chest while his lips covered hers, taking them, possessing them with his lips and tongue as a moan escaped her throat.

  Pinpoints of sensation began to prickle through her body, charging her nerve endings with hot, dancing jolts of pleasure.

  Hunger raged through the kiss now. Pleasure licked over her senses, charging her nerve endings and awakening parts of her body she’d never imagined could be so sensitive.

  Such as the skin at her side where her shirt and the band of her jeans separated: calloused fingertips stroked and smoothed the sensitive flesh. Pleasure washed over her in waves, the need for more growing with ever increasing demand.

  More of his kisses and more of his touch. She wanted his body fully against her. Turning in the chair to press into him, she gasped as he gripped her, his head pulling back to growl, “Straddle me.”

  A second later Anna found her legs embracing his thighs as she straddled his hard body, the wedge of his cock pressing into the mound of her pussy through the layers of denim.

  His lips immediately returned to hers, growing excitingly rougher and more demanding. His tongue was less playful and more intent. His hands became questing and entirely serious in their explorations as one palm pushed beneath the hem of her shirt to find the swollen curve of her breast.

  The heat of his palm seared her flesh through the lace of her bra, creating an exciting friction as his thumb found the swollen tip of her nipple and rubbed it slowly.

  Arching into the touch, her hands buried in his hair, Anna heard her own whimper of pleasure and could barely believe she would ever make such a pleading sound.

  “Please.” She might as well actually beg.

  As he pulled back, his lips moving over her jaw to the side of her neck, finding the ultrasensitive nerve endings there as he licked and kissed a meandering path to the lobe of her ear.

  “Archer, it’s so good,” she moaned, the sensual lethargy that overtook her more intoxicating than the liquor she had consumed earlier.

  His hands tightened on her sides, holding her still as his hips arched to grind his cock harder into the vee of her thighs.

  Exquisite pain raced through her pussy. Her clit throbbed with an ache she had no idea how to ease. Riding the hard length of his erection with their jeans separating them was an exquisite agony she wondered if she could bear for much longer.

  His hands moved from her waist once again, pushing her shirt up, cupping her breasts as his thumbs raked over the lace covering them.

  Shards of sensation tore from those swollen tips to the engorged bud of her clit. Her womb clenched, her juices spilled to her panties as she forced her lashes open, staring into the drowsy, lust-filled expression on Archer’s face.

  As their gazes locked, she moved her hands from his hair, watching as surprise flickered in his gaze when she reached behind her back and released the catch of her bra.

  Immediately his hands pushed beneath the loosened cups, his thumbs and forefingers gripping her nipples and tugging at them with an erotic pleasure-pain that had her pussy melting in wicked hunger.

  Arms lifting, she pulled the shirt as well as the bra from her body and tossed them to the floor.

  “Oh God—Archer.”

  Every muscle in her body clenched and threatened to explode in rapture as a hot, hungry mouth surrounded the painfully tight tip of a nipple and sucked it inside.

  His cheeks hollowed as he drew on the swollen bud, his gaze still holding hers, locked with it, the too-responsive tips of her breasts gloried in every touch.

  The one buried in Archer’s mouth was in such agonizing pleasure she was certain she couldn’t bear it much longer. Her pussy spilled its sensual wetness, her vagina clenching at the emptiness there, aching to be filled.

  “Take it off.” Tugging at his shirt as she made the demand and ground herself against his cock, she swore she was close, so close to the rapture of release that she could almost touch it, almost allow her body to slide into it. If only she knew how.

  “Unbutton it,” he ordered, his lips and sucking mouth moving from one nipple to the next.

  Sucking the matching, pebble-hard tip into his mouth, one hand captured hers and pulled it to the buttons of his shirt.

  Anna moaned, knowing she would never manage to control her fingers enough to get his shirt unbuttoned.

  She didn’t even try.

  As his teeth surrounded her nipple and nipped, Anna gripped the edges of his shirt and pulled.

  Buttons popped and flew across the room. The ping of the little discs hitting the floor was forgotten as he released her nipple from his teeth and immediately surrounded the nipple again, suckling at it strongly. Devouring it. Eating at the tip as though nothing mattered but ensuring he sated the hunger for the taste of her breasts.

  “Oh yes,” she panted, the painful pleasure that attacked her nipple streaking to her pussy. “Archer, please. Oh please, yes.”

  Her hips shifted, ground, rode the ridge of his cock as she searched hungrily for release.

  It had to be there, just over the edge—

  Perspiration began to gather on her flesh, her cries becoming more ragged as her head tipped back on her shoulders. His hands at her back, he pulled her closer.

  His tongue lashed at her nipple, his teeth rasped it. His thumb and forefinger gripped its twin, rolled it, tugged at it, sending increased fingers of lightning-fast sensation to crash into her womb and surround her clit.

  Thighs tense, Archer dropped his hands to her hips, guiding the desperate movement of her pussy against the thick erection beneath his jeans. The clothing that separated them was a painful friction and agonizing pleasure.

  Heat and nearing ecstasy began to gather into increasingly tight swirls of growing sensation. Anna could barely breathe as so many, too many sensations began to fill her at
once.

  The suckling of her increasingly sensitive nipples, one, then the other, then back again. The lash of his tongue against the tortured peaks, the thumb and forefinger of one hand returning to the other nipple to torture it with those growing circles of blistering heat and nearing release.

  Her womb spasmed, her pussy clenched. Her clit tightened further, throbbing, expanding, sensation surging, striking against it with each lash of sensation as he pressed silk and denim against the steadily sensitized bundle of nerves.

  She was tortured, her body strung tight as she fought for the center of sensation, searching desperately for the edge where she dropped off into sheer sensation and ecstasy.

  It was close—

  It was so close—

  Muted mewls of desperation sounded around her. She knew they were hers, knew she would wince at the begging, pleading sound of them later.

  Then one hard male hand grabbed the side of her ass, as Archer’s hips moved faster against her, dry fucking her with heavy strokes until those gathering, tightening swirls of ecstatic sensation seemed to rupture inside her.

  Her body imploded with a pleasure so violent it seemed to shred through her.

  Her clitoris expanded, then exploded like a sun going supernova, tore through her, and flung her into a climax that rocked her body and almost, just almost, touched that center of her being she had placed in lockdown deep inside her soul.

  Her nails dug into Archer’s shoulder as his lips released her nipple and buried in her neck. He tensed beneath her, a muted male groan rumbling against the curve of her neck and shoulder.

  Holding her close, his body so tight, so hard it was like iron against her, Archer kept her poised within the exploding heart of the ecstasy surrounding her.

  One arm was clamped behind her back, the other clenched in the curve of her rear as her sensitized nipples raked against his chest with each breath she took.

  The sensual rapture held her, suspended in its grip as the world stopped around her. The swirling sensations began to slow, to ease. The violence of her release echoing weaker, then weaker still until she was left trembling against him, little shudders of her climax echoing through her until she was left slumped against him, wasted—