by Mason, Nina
He smiled up at her. “Is that a problem?”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
He didn’t, which pleased him immensely. If she could keep up with him…well, no matter. She would be gone soon, so he’d better just enjoy this while it lasted. The desire to be inside her again burned in every cell of his body. So did the dark thirst. Taking her face between his hands, he pulled her mouth down on his. As he captured her tongue between his lips, he pushed his cock into her, shuddering with pleasure as luscious heat encased his length. God, she felt good. Only one thing would make this moment more sublime. He nipped her tongue just hard enough to draw blood. She made a sound of protest and tried to pull away, but he held her fast. As briny satisfaction filled his mouth, his cock got harder. He groaned and thrust into her, burying himself as deeply as he could.
He was dimly aware of hair caressing his face, of hot blasts of breath, of fingers pinching his nipples hard enough to hurt. Slipping a hand between their bodies, he maneuvered until he found the magic bean hiding within her folds. As he pleasured her, she slid up and down his pole like a strip-club dancer while squeezing his cock with exquisite finesse.
Feeling her trembling on the brink of orgasm, he released her tongue. She sat up, seemingly unbothered, and set her hands on his chest. As she rode him hard, he darted his gaze between the expression of pleasure on her face and her lovely bouncing breasts. Though his bollocks ached for release, he clenched against the urge to come, waiting for her. Her rapid breathing and breathy moans suggested he wouldn’t have long to wait.
He didn’t. The moment her sex started convulsing around his, he drove into her like a demon again and again until his seed cannoned forth in pulsations of ecstasy. Through the clouds of euphoria, he heard her say, “You bit my tongue.”
Callum opened his eyes, unaware he’d closed them, to find her frowning down at him. He gave her a penitent smile, hoping she wouldn’t catch on. “Did you not enjoy it?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, still frowning. “It was just…well, different.”
He brushed her cheek. He didn’t want to disconnect from her. If he had his way, they’d remain as they were until he roused again, which wouldn’t be long.
“Would you like to have another go?”
She nodded, wearing a smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m always ready.”
Her smile broadened. “I’m glad to hear it, because most of the men I’ve dated couldn’t keep up with me.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Her pretty brow furrowed contemplatively. “Do you think it’s possible to die from too much pleasure?”
“If it is,” he said, hardening again, “can you think of a better way to go?”
Chapter 6
After making love several more times, Vanessa fell asleep in Callum’s arms and awoke sometime later to the first delicious shudders of orgasm. As she opened her eyes, thunderheads of rapture rolled through her body, one after another. Looking down, she found golden leonine eyes looking back at her from between her legs.
“Good morning.” He offered the greeting with an adorable sideways grin.
“I’ll say.” Her body still quaked from the aftershocks of climax. “That was quite the wake-up call.”
“I’m pleased you’re pleased, my bonny butterfly.”
She reached for him. “Come here, my gorgeous lion.”
He got up on all fours and crawled over her. She shot a glance between his legs, expecting the arousal she found, but not the blush that heated her face or the joke that popped into her mind. A bemused grin broke across her face as his handsome face came level with hers.
“What?” He rubbed noses.
“Nothing.”
“What?” He kissed her mouth with a softness that made her yearn for more.
“It’s just a corny joke.”
“Tell me.” He kissed her again, lingering this time like a sweet aftertaste.
“It’s stupid.” Her face burned with embarrassment. “Really, really stupid.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He kissed her lips again, then her chin and nose. “Tell me your corny joke, mo dearbadan-de, so I can get on with making love to you.”
As she blushed even hotter, she sucked in a breath and squeezed shut her eyes. “Knock, knock.”
His tongue flicked against her lips. “Who’s there?”
“Connie.”
He kissed the corners of her mouth, one after the other. “Connie who?”
It was all she could do not to crack up as she delivered the punch line. “Connie Lingus. Can your tongue come out to play?”
He laughed heartily. “I’ve heard worse.”
Moving to her chest, he took a nipple in his mouth. It was already hard, thanks to his earlier oblations. She brushed her fingers up and down his sides, relishing the feel of soft flesh and sinewy muscle over solid bone.
“You’ve got lovely breasts.”
She smiled, feeling syrupy inside. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only the ones with lovely breasts.”
He moved lower, forging a trail of tender kisses that pebbled her abdomen with goose pimples. She raked her fingers through his mane, struck again by its softness.
“You’ve got great hair.”
“Thank you.” He pressed his mouth against the manicured strip of hair covering her public mound. “So do you.”
More goose bumps erupted as he ran his hands down her thighs. Slipping them under her buttocks, he lifted her hips off the bed. With one thrust, he sank into her, slow and deep.
Seeing him in the daylight filled her chest with awe. He was so good-looking it took her breath away. It seemed unfair that he’d also been blessed with intelligence, a noble title, and a big dick as well; but then, life was seldom fair. Though, admittedly, it felt fairer right now than it ever had before.
Rising, he pulled out of her grasp. She dropped her arms and lifted her legs, setting them across his shoulders. He took hold of her hips and held her fast as he moved in and out of her, rotating his pelvis each time he did. He was hitting that magic spot again, pushing her toward another explosive climax.
Satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth. Maybe size didn’t matter if a man had no clue what to do with his generous proportions, but this one sure as hell did. While wonderful at the moment, Callum’s skill in bed also had its downside. Leaving him when their time was up would be that much more difficult.
She’d meant what she’d said about her past lovers having trouble keeping up with her. Most had complained about her voracious need for sex. Nick had gone so far as to call her a nymphomaniac. And still, they couldn’t seem to let her go.
Callum was still fucking her, driving her closer to orgasm with each fervent thrust. Desire roiled in her abdomen again, low and deep, promising to unleash a tempest. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, her fingers clawing the sheets, her hips bumping against his. When the climax crowned, powerful ecstatic convulsions shook her body. He soon joined her, releasing a guttural roar of satisfaction as he unloaded inside her.
“Vanessa.”
He spoke her name in the low, reverent tone of an incantation.
There was no need for further charms. She was already falling under his spell.
Crashing down like a wave, his sweat-slickened body unfurled over hers, his hands grasping her face as he claimed her mouth. She shuddered under him, raw and satisfied. Pushing up on his arms, he ended the kiss and brought her back to reality.
Meeting her gaze with twinkling golden eyes, he smiled down at her. “What would you like to do today?”
She returned his smile. God, he was wonderful. “Don’t tell me you’ve hung up your tour guide cap after only one day.”
His eyes darkened for a moment, then returned to their usual honey color. “I thought we might take a day off from sightseeing.
”
She ran her hands down his bulging biceps. “In that case, you know what I’d really like to do?”
“Tell me.”
“Spend the whole day in bed making love.”
He gave her a tender peck on the lips. “That can be arranged. Shall I ask Hamish to bring our breakfast up?”
She nodded her approval. A sexy host with a libido equal to hers, orgasmic wake-up calls, and breakfast in bed? So far, the accommodations at Castle Barrogill were far surpassing her expectations.
* * * *
Callum was more than happy to spend the day in bed. Even as they sat across from one another, sipping coffee and sharing the platter of fruit and cheeses Hamish had brought up, he yearned to be inside her again. Vanessa was passionate, responsive, and refreshingly open…well, now that she’d owned up to her true motives for wanting to get inside his castle, anyway. He’d considered having Hamish hide her equipment, just to be safe, but decided there was little chance of her finding anything more supernatural than Sorcha’s ghost. Speaking of which…he’d daftly failed to consider his dead wife might appear in a sixteenth-century gown—a phenomenon he was hard-pressed to explain.
As he reached for a slice of cheese, she did the same. Sparks ignited at the spot where their hands collided. With a smile, he surrendered his claim. Would he be able to surrender her just as easily when their time together ended? Aye, well. Like it or not, he’d have to, wouldn’t he?
“Callum?”
Meeting her gaze, he waited for her to continue. He’d been right about those eyes of hers. He was going under.
“Tell me more about your wife,” she said.
Dread jabbed. If she asked about the ghost’s costume, he’d be forced to pretend ignorance or invent a story. Either effort would kill his present contentment quicker than he could say “saltpeter.” Licking his lips, he asked guardedly, “What do you wish to know?”
“Why did you marry a woman who didn’t enjoy sex?”
“I didn’t know she was frigid until after we were wed.”
She looked somewhat surprised. “You didn’t sleep with her beforehand?”
“No. As I told you yesterday, our marriage was arranged. We weren’t introduced until the...engagement party.” He’d almost said “betrothal ceremony,” but stopped himself before he offered her another clue to his advanced age. Aquarians were masterful puzzle-solvers, probably the reason she’d become an investigator. If he didn’t watch himself, he might be forced to erase her memory before she left him, which, for reasons he’d rather not contemplate, he’d rather not do.
“Wow,” she said. “I couldn’t imagine marrying anyone I hadn’t slept with…or anyone I had, for that matter.”
For some reason, he didn’t like hearing this. “Why not?”
“I have no interest in getting married.”
“Even if you’re in love?”
She smirked. “There’s little chance of that happening.”
The statement stung his ego, though he couldn’t imagine why. Surely, he wasn’t daft enough to get emotionally involved when she was going home to America in another two days. Aye, well. If he was that foolish, he’d have only himself to blame for his heartache.
They sat in silence for a few strained moments before she reached out, took one of his hands, and lifted it to her mouth. The desire dampened by talk of Sorcha rekindled as she kissed his knuckles, one by one.
“Would you ever consider marrying again?” she asked.
The question startled him. Was she asking out of self-interest? Bloody hell. Her mixed signals were making him dizzy. After considering his answer carefully, he said, “Only under extraordinary circumstances.”
* * * *
Vanessa dozed off in Callum’s arms after making love, but awoke alone. Seeing her chance to have a look around, she crawled out of bed, threw on a sweater and jeans, and very quietly removed her thermal camera from her suitcase. If there was a vampire living inside the castle walls, the camera reveal its whereabouts—providing, of course, the undead gave off body heat.
She decided to start in the dungeon, which seemed the most obvious place for a vampire to hide. First, though, she’d have to make her way to the dining room without arousing suspicion—or, better yet, enter through the hidden door in the woods. That way, if she was missed or got caught, she could claim she’d simply gone out for some fresh air.
Satisfied with her plan, she made her way through the castle and out a back door without being spotted. She walked the garden, searching the ground for the hidden entrance, but found no sign of a trapdoor. Heart beating fast, both from the exertion and her fear of discovery—yes, she had a cover story, but she’d still have to sell it—she circled the castle again and again, moving a few feet farther out with each go-round. As she completed each loop, she stopped to look around and listen. No one appeared and no human noises disturbed the sounds of nature.
Frustration thrummed in her blood as her fruitless search continued. Surely, Callum would have missed her by now and would appear any second. Would he detect the lie as he searched her mind? Of course he would.
Berating herself for her stupidity, she decided to quit while she was ahead and go back inside before she was missed. First, though, she needed a breather. The exercise of circling the garden had made her sweaty and tired. Spying a bench nearby, she walked over and took a seat. Just as her pulse began to slow, she heard rustling beyond the manicured hedges. Her heart leaped into her throat as she strained to see what had caused the commotion.
When the culprit showed himself, fright shivered through her as her mind groped for an explanation. She was sure there were no lions in Scotland, so the animal must have escaped from a circus or wild animal park somewhere nearby. Wherever he’d come from, he probably wasn’t tame. She just hoped he wasn’t hungry, either.
Heart hammering, hands shaking, she remained as still as a potted plant, praying he wouldn’t notice her. The big cat, to her dismay, looked right at her with his fearsome topaz eyes. She didn’t move or breathe. As much as she wanted to run, she knew it was the worst thing she could do. Even if the lion wasn’t inclined toward mauling her, running was guaranteed to put him in the mood.
The lion curled his lip, emitted a staccato sound, and stalked toward her.
A small whimper escaped her as mortal terror locked her in a stranglehold. Blood pounded in her temples and the urge to flee twitched in her legs. Her spinning mind showed another Delacroix from the Louvre. In this one, the lion was eating a woman. Holy shit. Her heart was thumping so hard, her chest felt ready to explode.
The lion crept still closer, his golden eyes locked on her face.
“Nice kitty,” she said, forcing the words through her constricted throat. “Please don’t hurt me; I support PETA, the SPCA, and the National Wildlife Federation.”
The beast let out a low, rumbling growl and then, to her enormous relief, turned around and sauntered off in the opposite direction.
* * * *
When Callum reached the bedroom, where Vanessa had gone to have a lie-down to recover from the shock of her encounter with his alter ego, he found her sitting up looking fully restored and very much at home in his bed. As their gazes met, his cock tingled with interest. He’d thought about taking her on a picnic to show her the stacks and maybe the lighthouse, but now was having second thoughts.
Being nobody’s fool, he knew exactly what she was doing in the garden: snooping around in search of the hidden entrance to the dungeon he’d mentioned last night. Well, let her look to her hearts content. She’d find nothing more interesting in the dungeon than rusty shackles and cobwebs. Little did she know, what she was looking for was right in front of her.
Luckily, she’d swallowed his story about the lion being an escapee from a nearby wildlife park. Never mind that there wasn’t any such park for miles around. She wouldn’t know that or be able to check the veracity of his story without a cell signal.
Meanwhile, he’d continue enj
oying her company. If she was up for it, he’d make love to her again, and then make some excuse to leave her alone long enough to thoroughly explore Barrogill. Maybe, after she found nothing out of the ordinary, she’d forget all about the castle’s alleged vampire and focus completely on catering to the needs of its master.
Perching himself on the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his and gave her a reassuring smile. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Much better.”
“Good.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve searched the grounds and there’s no sign of the lion. I’ve also called the park and, it turns out they are missing one of their cats. They’re sending someone over immediately to recapture the old fellow.”
Lying to her gave him a qualm, though he couldn’t think why it should when she’d been dishonest about her reasons for being in the garden.
“Thank you for believing me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He searched her face for a reaction, sure he saw a flicker of guilt behind her steady blue gaze. “You’ve given me no reason to doubt you thus far.”
Aye, he was being wicked, but her duplicity had earned it. As they went on gazing at one another, her eyes turned smoky and dark, giving him the impression she was thinking along the same lines as he was. Outside the bedroom she might be having him on, but inside she was the most sexually responsive woman he’d ever been with. Even his whores didn’t compare. They were skillful, to be sure, but sex with them was like eating a piece of cake with a fork. Making love to his butterfly, on the other hand, was like eating a whole cake with his hands, covering himself in sweet, sticky frosting in the process.
Passion shifting into higher gear, his gaze slid to her mouth. Her lips were parted invitingly. He licked his own as the urge to kiss her rose inside him like the sun at daybreak. As he moved in, she lifted her face. He swept his lips across hers, savoring their soft feel and delicate flavor. She smelled of the outdoors. Pine, grass, and something sweetly floral touched with sea wind. As his mouth captured hers, he sensed her surrender in every wee movement: the softening of her mouth, the parting of her lips, and the offering of her tongue. If only her heart was half as yielding. Not that he could keep her, even if she wanted to stay.