He wasn’t exaggerating. Not at that moment. Not when I was a prisoner to every sensation he forced through me with such exquisite ruthlessness that I wasn’t sure there would be a way to recover.
And hell, I should have cared. Should have questioned my judgment, my decision not to stop him, my sanity for allowing this to happen after everything he’d done. I just couldn’t summon the ability to care.
Not now.
Not when it would only drive me insane if he were to stop.
Our bodies slapped together again, the orgasm I’d been chasing finally igniting inside me until my body shook against his, my mouth opening on a silent scream as pleasure flooded every cell.
Callan’s hand slid from my breast to my throat, his teeth sinking down, the scruff on his jaw so rough on my skin that it competed against the hard planes of his body claiming mine.
He held me there while wave after wave of the orgasm broke me to pieces, the release shattering me, the tremors as violent as him.
I was floating by the time the orgasm stopped, my body a tool for his pleasure, my thoughts stolen and as difficult to grasp as it was for my lungs to pull in a breath.
Sweat slipped between our skin, and my tongue ached to taste him, my thoughts going back to watching his liquid movement in the ring when he fought.
Knowing the brutal strength of the man who held me in place while taking everything I could give only made me want to leave my body so I could watch him move again, could admire the beauty of his body as it sought pleasure instead of pain.
My body went limp, but his hands held me in place, a low chuckle against my skin. “Oh, not yet. I’m not even close to done.”
I was flipped on my back again, my eyes wide and appreciative of watching every ripple of his abdomen, the flex of his pecs and biceps, every roll of his hips as he forced three more mind-bending orgasms through me before finding his own.
Callan’s fierce gaze trapped mine as he pulled out to come on my stomach, a challenge in the expression, a dare for me to say another word to him as he marked me with his release, his body jerking once as the last hot spurt met my skin.
Running his finger through it, he smirked when he brought the taste to my mouth, and I gladly lapped it with my tongue, a slave to sensation, a woman trapped, a girl who was secretly happy that the boy she thought was dead had risen from the ashes.
I would never tell him that.
And I knew I would regret this decision.
But damn if he didn’t push every button inside me that demanded I abandon intelligent thought and give in to sensation.
Staring down at me, his teeth brushed his bottom lip, his eyes so focused on me that the intensity frightened me.
Leaning down, he kissed me, the taste of his release flooding our mouths, the scent of sex intoxicating.
“I hope you don’t think this is the end of it. I haven’t finished destroying you yet. Not even close after years of wanting to.”
A smile parted my lips, part bliss, part insanity.
“What more could you possibly do?” I asked.
He only grinned, the expression a mockery of the exhaustion evident in my voice.
Speaking with a low rumble, he ran his eyes down my body, setting my skin on fire.
“Dumb question,” he answered. “Seriously fucking stupid.”
Callan dropped down to push my legs over his shoulders, his mouth closing over my pussy as his tongue explored the sensitive skin.
My hands reached for his head. Fingers curling into the midnight black strands. My body writhing as he devoured me.
All night.
For so many hours.
Over and over again.
I would hate myself in the morning.
Hate him.
But I couldn’t find it in me to hate what he could do to me, to hate what he made my body feel while we both learned what it meant to finally give up and give in.
Callan
This was a mistake.
She was a mistake.
In twenty-five years, I’d never lost my self-control. Never lost myself. Never failed to stop and think of what my actions could cause.
Until last night.
Until her.
Until temptation reached up to grab me by the throat and squeeze until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fight, couldn’t remember why I should walk away from a moment that would cost me everything.
I’d shot up in bed the instant my mind returned to consciousness, had