Callan

by Sybil Bartel

  She blinked, twice. Then she frowned. “How much money do you have?”

  I eased the line between her eyebrows with my finger. “More than enough for five lifetimes. What do you need?”

  Her throat moved with a swallow. “The house—will it have a pool, the screened-in kind? And a paved walkway from the driveway to the front door and grass all around, because there’s a lot of dirt here, and I’m not sure I like dirt, and now it’s between my toes.” She looked down at her feet then back up at me. “I wasn’t prepared for that. It feels a little early in the day to already be so dirty?” Her expression that of an unsure child, her last statement came as a question.

  I stroked her cheek. “Pool, paved walkways, grass—consider it done.”

  “Okay.” She briefly closed her eyes and leaned into my caress, but then her eyes opened and she looked back up at me. “And a screened-in pool?” she asked, her face innocent, her expression pure.

  I fought a smile. “Yes, screened-in pool.” I brushed her hair behind her ear. “Anything else?”

  “Maybe before the house is built, we can get a TV… or even an iPad? With Netflix? And a coffee maker, like the kind that takes those little coffee pods? And that’s it. I swear, that’s all I need.”

  “No television in the bedroom.” I wrapped her smooth hair around my fist. “You will not need it.”

  Heat flamed her cheeks. “Oh.”

  “I do not know what the other things are, but we can get them.”

  Biting her bottom lip, leaning into my hold, she nodded once. “Okay.”

  I tugged just enough on her hair then released the strands. “Anything else?”

  “Yes.” Her shoulders squared and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Never, ever, ever leave me. Unless something really bad happens, but tell me first. Don’t just walk out like my father walked out on my mother.”

  “I would never do that to you.” I kissed her forehead. “And I am never going to leave you.”

  Her shoulders released the tension they were carrying, but her expression did not change. “Okay, now you. Tell me what you want.”

  I took her face in my hand. “I want you to marry me.”

  OH MY GOD.

  Oh my God.

  I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat and couldn’t. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

  The sides of his mouth tipped up. “Yes.”

  That was it. That was all he said. One word, no hesitation, in fact he hadn’t even hesitated when I’d asked him what he wanted.

  Married.

  That smile.

  Married.

  His unwavering gaze held me captive. “You are beautiful when you are surprised.”

  “I, um….” I couldn’t concentrate when he smiled at me. Or asked me to marry him. “You did this on purpose.” The thought flew out of my mouth uncensored.

  “Is that a question?”

  He didn’t cock his head or raise his eyebrows or do any other small facial movement that most people did because he wasn’t most people. He was still, and confident, and so, so very alpha. He was self-possessed in everything he did, and he didn’t use body language to convey emotion because he didn’t have to. If he wanted you to know what he was thinking, he simply said it.

  I needed to learn to do the same for him. “Yes, no, I don’t know, but before you’ve been with me, in bed, you’re asking me to marry you. You’re doing that on purpose.”

  “I have already had you in my bed.”

  Heat spread across my cheeks. “You know what I mean.”

  Slow, predatory, he leaned down and touched his lips to my neck, just below my ear. Pulling back just barely, he looked into my eyes. “Yes, I asked you to marry me. Yes, I asked you before I took you. And yes, I did it on purpose.”

  Gooseflesh raced across my heated skin. “Why?”

  “For you.” His lips coasted down my neck.

  I shivered. “For me?”

  “This is all or nothing, Angel.” Still at my eye level, he gazed at me. “Yes or no?”

  “Yes.” Oh my God, I was crazy. “Yes.”

  Sexy, so fucking sexy, half his mouth tipped all the way up and he scooped me up.

  “Hero!” I giggled, holding the basket. “Stop! I can walk.”

  “No.” Still with the sexy half grin on his gorgeous face, he strode to the cabin and pushed the door open with his shoulder. Kicking it shut behind him, he stopped by the small table. “Basket,” he ordered, suddenly serious.

  Anticipation and nerves making my heart race, I set the basket on the table. “No breakfast?” I didn’t know where the sultry teasing tone of my voice had come from. I wasn’t that girl. I wasn’t a sexy vixen, but he made me feel like one.

  He set me on my feet in front of the bed. “You are better than breakfast.”

  It was all the warning I got.

  His mouth slammed over mine and he kissed me. Except kiss was too tame a word. Curving his body around mine, caging me in with his hands buried in my hair, angling my head, he thrust his tongue into my mouth and devoured me. Bending his knees then rising up, he dragged his hard desire between my legs and against my aching core.

  Desperate, intoxicated by him and his woodsy scent, I shoved his shirt up.

  Two huge, rough hands instantly gripped my wrists and his lips left mine. His penetrating stare cut into me. “Your injuries.”

  “I’m good,” I panted.

  He switched both of my wrists to one of his hands and lifted them above my head. Gripping my chin, he tipped my face up to his, and held my arms stretched high. “Does this hurt?”

  I pulsed between my legs in anticipation. “No.”

  Releasing my chin, but still holding my arms above my head, he unzipped my hoodie. Slow, methodical, every release of one of the metal teeth gave anticipation a sound.

  I licked my bottom lip. “Hero,” I whispered.

  His gaze on me, he pushed my hoodie open and palmed each breast before dragging a finger over my ribs. “How sore are you here?”

  “I’m okay.” I rubbed my thighs together, more than liking the hold he had on me.

  “No lies,” he clipped.

  “I’m not. It’s only a little sore.” Nothing like when it’d happened.

  He nodded once, his gaze cutting to my feet.

  “I’m okay there too.” Barely feeling the scrapes on the bottoms of my feet anymore, I slipped off my flip-flops.

  He met my gaze again. “I will not be too rough.” He took my mouth again, but gentler. Pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, then running his tongue over the sting, he shoved his hand into the waistband of my sweats and pushed them over my hips.

  They pooled at my feet, and I started to step out of the constricting material.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “Spread your legs.”

  Sharp desire curled deep in my stomach. “I can’t.”

  Using his huge booted foot, he spread my legs as far as the material would allow. The tight elastic of the waistband stretched around my ankles, and he moved his hands to mine, lacing our fingers together.

  His hooded gaze traveled up my body before meeting my eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Moisture pooled between my legs. “Touch me. Please.”

  He dropped to one knee and released my fingers before grabbing my ass with both hands.

  His tongue swirled over my clit.

  I bucked. “Oh God.”

  Angling my ass, my hips, like he’d angled my head, he brought me down on his mouth as his tongue thrust up.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  My hands dropped, my hoodie slipped off my shoulders and I gripped his head. His buzz cut all at once prickly and soft under my hands, I dipped my hips then thrust into his face.

  He bit my clit.

  “Ahhh.” Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. “Hero!”

  His tongue brushed against my clit once, then setting a rapid pace, he swirled over the tight bud of nerves.

  The
tremor started in my spine and burst through my whole body. My pants around my ankles, my sweatshirt stretched across my hips, I held on to his head and exploded. Riding his mouth, rocking into him, I came so hard, I collapsed.

  Catching me as he stroked his tongue through my aftershocks, he lifted and my back was suddenly on the bed. My arms trapped at my sides by my sweatshirt, my legs trembling with the remnants of my release, I stared at him. His lips wet from my desire, he yanked his shirt over his head one-handed, then pulled my sweats off my ankles.

  Heated, intense, his gaze fixed on me as he unbuckled his pants like last night, but this time he shoved both his pants and his boxers down.

  His huge erection sprang free, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sheer size of him.

  No words, watching me intently, he stepped out of his clothes and reached for my hoodie. With more gentleness than I was expecting, he released the material from my arms, freeing my trapped hands.

  Like a beautiful panther, his lips trailing a path up my thighs, across my stomach, the rough part of his tongue dragging over my nipples, he crawled over me.

  His knee pushed my leg wide.

  His arms caged my head in.

  His hips hovered above mine.

  My head spun.

  Slow, soft, so soft, holding himself above my body, he ghosted his lips against mine. “Breathe,” he ordered.

  I sucked in the air he exhaled.

  “I am not going to hurt you,” he promised, slowly dragging his hand down my body.

  My chest heaving, I gripped a handful of comforter and swallowed. “Okay.”

  His thumb drew a lazy circle over my clit. “I did not encounter resistance inside you last night.” He eased a finger inside me.

  My eyes closed. “I’m not lying. I’ve never done this.” I bit my lip.

  “Open your eyes, Angel,” he demanded.

  I looked up at him. His eyes my anchor, his scent my home, I didn’t know how to tell him I was afraid of giving him my heart. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  His finger slowly stroked deep inside me. “I am not questioning your virginity. I am telling you I am not going to hurt you. I am going to make you feel good.”

  I didn’t know how to explain I wouldn’t ever come back from this. Once he took me, I knew everything would change. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are afraid. Your heart, your mind, your body, I will protect.” His finger eased out of me, and he brought the head of his cock to my entrance. “I will tend to you.” His deep voice husky and rough, he grasped my chin and my jaw in one of his huge hands. “Ready?”

  My pussy pulsed, and I gripped his arm. “Yes.”

  His hips came down, his mouth crashed over mine, and he pushed into me.

  I gasped. And jerked, hard.

  He grabbed the outside of my thigh and dug his fingers into my flesh. “Breathe, Angel.”

  Burning, stretching, full, so, so, so full, oh my God.

  “Let me in. You need me closer.” He rocked deeper and the burning turned to pain but then his body ground against my clit.

  Holy fucking shit.

  My mouth opened but no sound came out.

  A groan, so deep, so low, so guttural shook his chest. He pulled back an inch then thrust, hard.

  I cried out.

  His hand tightened on my jaw. “Feel my fingers,” he barked.

  I couldn’t breathe. My head swam, my vision narrowed and my eyes filled with tears.

  “Feel my hands on you,” he demanded as the pressure on my thigh and jaw increased. His lips roughly pressed against mine, then he bit my lower lip. “Feel that,” he commanded. “The pressure from my hands is greater than my body inside you.” His fingers digging into my thigh, he held my leg against his hip. “Take a breath. Right now.”

  As if my body knew his words and understood them, air filled my starved lungs.

  “Another,” he demanded.

  I sucked in, and he pulsed inside me.

  “Oh!” My breath hitched and my stretched, shocked core convulsed around him.

  “That’s it.” He pulsed again.

  My body responded, and wetness surged between my legs.

  His hand eased off my jaw, and he brushed my hair from my face. “That’s it, Angel.” He eased out a few inches and slowly stroked back in. “Feel the pressure, feel the fullness.” His voice dropped, and his thumb found my clit. “Feel my body fit inside yours.”

  And I did.

  Oh my fucking God, I did.

  The burning eased only to be replaced with an ache so intense, I grabbed his arms and tried to pull him into me.

  He thrust deep, and his lips hit my ear. “Never be afraid of getting close to me.”

  “Hero,” I breathed, pleading for more.

  His hands cupped my face and he started a slow, sensual rhythm. His chest brushing across my hard nipples, his hips grinding against my clit with every thrust, he kissed me. My taste on his lips, his tongue swirled through my mouth and he consumed me. Every way a man could dominate a woman, he took me. He took my fear, he took my body, and he took my heart.

  Driving into me, hitting a spot deep inside I never knew existed, grinding his hips against mine, I began to fall.

  His hand sank into my hair, and he pulled his lips from mine. “Give me your eyes, Angel.”

  “No, no, no.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, needing him closer. Needing him to ease this throbbing between my legs. Needing him to kiss me until I lost my breath again.

  His blue eyes darker than I’d ever seen them, he drove in deep and stilled. “I am releasing inside you.”

  A promise, a warning, I didn’t know which, and it didn’t matter. I wanted all of him. “Yes, yes.”

  “I am taking you, Emily Faraday.” He thrust hard. “And I making you mine.” He drove deep into me and ground his hips.

  The orgasm burst from the depths of my soul and shattered me.

  My back arched, my nails dug into his back and I filled the cabin with my scream.

  Rearing back, he drove into me two more times, then every muscle in his body tensed. A growl so raw and feral and perfect ripped from his chest and shook me to my core.

  His hot seed pumped into my body, and my gas station god stole my heart.

  HER ORGASM GRIPPED AROUND me, and I let go. Driving into her tight body two more times, I roared out and did what I had never done. I filled a female with my seed.

  Not any female.

  My female.

  My angel.

  My release filling her, the need to dominate, the need to make her with child, all of it driving my every thought, I grasped her legs and put them high around my waist. “Wrap around me,” I demanded, my voice rougher than I intended.

  Panting, her face full of wonder and surprise, she locked her ankles behind my back.

  I kissed her once, twice, and drove into her. “Take my seed deep.”

  Her small hands grasped the sides of my face as her hips matched my slow rhythm. “Tell me,” she whispered, “does it always feel like that?” Her face flushed, she searched my eyes for an answer I did not have.

  “I do not know. I have never released inside a woman before.”

  Her small body stilled, and her mouth formed a perfect O. “Oh.”

  Her body under me, tight and mine, opening to fit my length, my width, the trust she gave me—nothing compared. “Nothing has ever felt like this.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “My heart is yours,” I promised.

  She inhaled sharply, but did not say anything.

  “Give me words,” I demanded, seeing the shift.

  Her eyes drifted and her fingers danced tentatively across my back. “Is that the same?” She looked back at me with tears in her eyes. “Is that the same as saying I love you?”

  “No.” I kissed her once. “It is more.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  I swept it away with my thumb. “Giving you my heart is a
promise,” I explained. “You now own what I will never take back.”

  The smile that was now mine spread across her face. “I promise to cherish and take care of it.”

  I did not doubt her. I kissed her forehead and slowly eased out of her.

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  “You will get used to me,” I promised, pulling her into my arms.

  She settled her back against my chest. “You were right,” she said quietly.

  “About?”

  “Making me feel good.”

  I tilted her chin so I could see her eyes. “I will always make you feel good.”

  She bit her lip. “You’re inside me.”

  My seed was, I was not. “I know.”

  “I’m not on any birth control.”

  There was no such thing as birth control on the compound growing up, but I knew what she meant. “I am glad.”

  She inhaled. “Okay, because…” She exhaled. “Because that could have…. I mean, I could be….” Her hand waved through the air. “You know.”

  I could not help it. I smiled. “Good.”

  She looked at me, and for a moment her eyes went wide with shock, then she laughed. A sweet, nervous, but still beautiful laugh. “Oh my God, you totally planned this.”

  “I did.”

  She grinned at me. “You’re still smiling.”

  “I am.”

  Turning in my arms, she buried her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Callan Hero Anders, you just knocked up your stepsister.” Laughter bubbled out of her.

  Still smiling, I corrected her. “Potentially.”

  Her head popped up, and she smiled at me with joy in her eyes. “I really liked that.”

  “Good.”

  Her arms tightened around me. “Is that all you have to say?” Her fingers fluttered over my lower back. “Because—” Her hand froze directly over my branding. “What’s this?”

  I reached back and grasped her hand, removing it from the raised, scarred flesh. “My branding.”