“Hold those naughty thoughts, Gemma,” he whispered when he released her and reached down to remove her sandals, rubbing his hands over her calves and ankles, while thinking her skin felt warm, almost feverish.
“Why do women torture their feet with these things?” His voice was deep and husky. He dropped the shoes by the bed.
“Because we know men like you enjoy seeing us in them.”
He continued to rub her feet when he smiled. “I like seeing you in them. But then I like seeing you out of them, too.”
His hand left her feet and began inching up her leg, past her knee to her thigh. But just for a second. His hand left her thigh and shifted over to the buttons on her skirt and with one tug sent them flying. She lifted her hips when he began pulling the skirt from her body and when she lay before him wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy blue panties, he felt blood rush straight to his heads. Both of them.
But it was the one that decided at that moment to almost double in size that commanded his attention. Without saying a word, he slowly began easing her panties down her thighs and her luscious scent began playing havoc with his nostrils as he did so.
He tossed her panties aside and his hands eased back between her legs, seeing what he’d touched last night and watching once again as her pupils began dilating with pleasure.
And to make sure she got the full Callum Austell effect, he bent his head toward her chest, captured a nipple in his mouth and began sucking on it.
“Callum!”
“Umm?” He released that nipple only to move to the other one, licking the dark area before easing the tip between his lips and sucking on it as he’d done to the other one. He liked her taste and definitely liked the sounds she was making.
Moments later he began inching lower down her body and when his mouth came to her stomach, he traced a wet path all over it.
“Callum.”
“I’m right here. You still sure you want me?” His fingers softly flicked across her womanly folds while he continued to lick her stomach.
“Oh, yes.”
“Are there any limitations?” he asked.
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
He took her at her word and moved his mouth lower. Her eyes began closing when he lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his neck, lowered his head and pressed his open mouth to her feminine core.
Pleasure crashed over Gemma and she bit down to keep from screaming. Callum’s tongue inside her was driving her crazy, and pushing her over the edge in a way she’d never been pushed before. Her body seemed to fragment into several pieces and each of those sections was being tortured by a warm, wet and aggressive tongue that was stroking her into a stupor.
Her hands grabbed tight to the bedspread as her legs were nudged further apart when his mouth burrowed further between her thighs and his tongue seem to delve inside her deeper.
She continued to groan in pleasure, not sure she would be able to stop moaning even when he ceased doing this to her. She released a deep moan when the pressure of his mouth on her was too much, and the erotic waves she was drowning in gave her little hope for a rescue.
And then, just like the night before, she felt her body jackknife into an orgasm that had her screaming. She was grateful for the privacy afforded by the seclusion of Callum’s condo.
“Gemma.”
Callum’s deep Australian voice flowed through her mind as her body shuddered nearly uncontrollably. It had taken her twenty-four years to share this kind of intimacy with a man and it was well worth the wait.
“Open your eyes. I want you to be looking at me the moment I make you mine.”
She lifted what seemed like heavy lids and saw that he was over her, his body positioned between her legs, and her hips were cupped in the palms of his hands. She pushed the thought out of her mind that she would never truly be his, and what he’d said was just a figure of speech, words just for the moment, and she understood because at this moment she wanted to be his.
As she gazed up into his eyes, something stirred deep in her chest around her heart and she forced the feeling back, refusing to allow it to gain purchase there, rebuffing the very notion and repudiating the very idea. This was about lust, not love. He knew it and she knew it as well. There was nothing surprising about the way her body was responding to him; the way he seemed to be able to strum her senses the same way a musician strummed his guitar.