"You deserved it," she shot back.
Pure lust glittered on his carved features, sending a jolt through her bloodstream. "I damn well knew there was a hellcat under all that white. There'll be payback for that. For now, hang on."
"I already am-oh!"
He slung her over his shoulder like a real caveman and stalked up the stairs as if she were the weight of a feather. Morgan knew she had a healthy body with curves, and the idea that he took her size with no hesitation or care made her feel feminine, delicate, and very, very wanted.
She caught a flash of tigerwood floors and the scent of lemon polish and got dumped in the middle of a king-size bed. Morgan sank into a ton of fluffy pillows and fought her way to a half-sitting position to give him a piece of her mind.
Then stopped.
He'd taken off his shirt. Ripped off was a better term, since the material barely survived his savage striptease. Morgan looked at the mass of bunched muscles defining his pecs, the washboard abs from hard, sweaty work instead of a climate-controlled gym. Skin baked brown from the sun, a light dusting of gold-brown hair scattered over his chest and narrowed to a mouthwatering line disappearing past his waistband. One snap of his fingers released the button on his denim cutoffs. Never taking his gaze from her face, he approached the bed, studying her as if going over his plan to ravish her.
In that moment, Morgan melted like hot lava, helpless to prevent anything and everything he wanted to do with her. Those eyes gleamed with raw satisfaction, catching her innate surrender as she knelt on the bed and made no move to stop him. No move to escape.
"Do you know how many bad things I want to do to you?"
She shuddered. Licked her lips. "Then do them."
A vicious curse escaped his lips. And he was upon her.
Morgan never had a chance. This was no slow, step-by-step seduction plan. It was as if the moment they touched, only instinct survived, a desperate need to connect in every primitive, physical form. Her blouse vanished in seconds, her bra was flicked open, and then his soft lips closed over her nipple, tugging, licking, sucking. She writhed underneath him and pulled down the zipper of his shorts, shoving her fingers into the opening with little finesse to stroke and cup the hard, thick length of his cock.
He uttered her name like a prayer, but instead of getting naked fast, he kept his solid attention on her breasts. Tugging her nipples in a rhythm to his own private melody, he teased and tortured until her breasts were so sensitive, a cry trapped in the back of her throat. Pain and pleasure blurred into a fine line. "You're so damn pretty," he said, watching her reaction as he licked the tight tips. "You taste like coconut cream pie." She hissed as he worked his mouth lower, swiping his tongue over the curve of her belly, fingers curled around the band of her proper linen pants. "I can't wait to taste you. Make you come. Fuck you so hard, you'll never remember another man's name."
Arousal trickled down her thigh. Already poised on the edge of orgasm just from his words, Morgan panted, fighting for sanity. "I can't take much more."
"Neither can I. Lift up."
Her hips rose, and as he wriggled her pants down her hips, her mind suddenly sprung to awareness, reminding her of the final desperate measure she'd taken to make sure she didn't sleep with Caleb Pierce tonight.
"Wait! Oh, my God, please wait!"
Morgan shot up. Cal tilted his head back. Pupils dilated with lust, mouth damp from kissing her, his gorgeous hair mussed up from her fingers raking through the strands, he was sex incarnate and every woman's fantasy. "You okay, baby?" he asked roughly. His breath came in ragged pants, but he held himself under control, gauging if she was about to tell him she had changed her mind or wanted him to stop.
"No," she moaned. His fingers tangled with hers, and he waited patiently. In that moment, her respect and trust for this man flooded her in waves. Even with a throbbing erection and a brain probably fogged by arousal, he stopped. He pushed when it was right, yet was man enough to back off at the first cry of no. He'd never do anything she didn't want, and that made Morgan ache for him even more.
"Did you change your mind? I want you, Morgan, but only if you want me just as bad. I'd never hurt you."
"I know!" she sobbed. "But I did something because I didn't want to sleep with you tonight because I got spooked and thought it would be better to keep my distance but I don't know how to tell you and I'm so embarrassed!"
He cocked his head, his gaze drilling into hers. "Talk to me. Good, bad, I want to hear you. What you want, what you don't, what you're scared of, what makes you feel good. I want to hear it all."
The heat from his skin wrapped around her. His scent was pure primal mating, and here she was with hairy legs, dying to part her thighs and take everything he had to give. Shaking with need, she burst out the truth before she lost her nerve. "I didn't shave my legs!"
Morgan shut her eyes, refusing to look at him. She'd reached the height of humiliation. She was the spiller of female secrets, and the population would never forgive her.
"Baby, open your eyes. Look at me."
She groaned but slowly peeked at him. Pure amusement danced in his eyes, tugged at his lips. But he looked straight at her when he spoke. "You thought that not shaving would keep you safe from me?"
Misery leaked into her voice. "Yes."
Suddenly, with one strong motion, he ripped the pants off her, yanked her legs apart, and knelt between them. Shock and lust warred for dominance. His face reflected a determination that caused shivers to race down her spine. "That is the sexiest damn thing I've ever heard in my life."
She wriggled desperately to get away from him, even though she wanted his mouth between her thighs more than she wanted her next breath. "No! This isn't good. Let me use the bathroom and I'll clean up and we'll continue where we left off. Oh!" He gripped her thighs to keep her still and lowered his head. His openmouthed kiss against the thin fabric of her white lace panties caused her hips to shoot off the bed.
"You're not going anywhere. I don't want you clean and neat and proper. I want you messy and dirty and wet." His fingers played with the elastic edges of her panties, dipping inside to tease her. "And you're very wet right now."
Her head thrashed back and forth on the bed, fighting between her need for this man and her feminine pride. "I have stubble!"
"And I fucking love it. Nothing could keep me from worshipping your body tonight, Morgan. I intend to gorge on every part of you, and I'm gonna start right here. Now, stop thinking."
His tongue ran down the center of the damp fabric, slowly licking her, all the while his fingers played along the edge of the band. Between the strokes of his hand and the nibbling, licking motions of his mouth, her body straightened like a bow, completely under his command. His tongue pressed hard against her throbbing clit, then the edges of his teeth raked over her swollen flesh.
"Caleb! That feels too good."
"No such thing, baby. God, you're so responsive. So hot." His fingers hooked under the elastic, brushed against her wet lips, and dove deep.
It was too much. It wasn't enough. It was hell. It was heaven. The orgasm shimmered right there, so close, until a helpless whimper rose to her lips and he sensed right then what she needed. He cursed, added his second finger, and pumped in and out of her channel with light strokes. At the same time, he closed his teeth over the throbbing nub of her clit through the soaked fabric of her panties and bit gently.
She came.
The excruciating pleasure rolled over her in waves, and her body rode it out with wild abandon. He didn't remove his fingers or stop his tongue's delicious movements until every last ounce of that orgasm was done and she was wrung out. Finally he lifted his head, a satisfied crooked grin on his mouth.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She blinked. "I'm not sure."
"Much better. Now you're not thinking."
A shudder ran through her. "I'm sorry."
His brow lifted. "For what?"
Her cheeks flushed. "I guess I couldn't wait. That's never happened before. My underwear wasn't even off."
His laugh was rich and deep and very masculine. "Good. You're kind of magnificent, princess. I think you need to do that again."
Cal worked her panties down her hips, then leaned over. The drawer opened and a condom was in his grip. She watched with hungry eyes as he stripped off his boxers and fit himself with the condom. Raising her legs, he hooked her ankles over his shoulders and paused at her dripping entrance. Breath held, she shut her eyes and waited for him to take her. A trickle of fear hit. How long had it been since she'd been this intimate with a man? The sheer vulnerability of this moment overwhelmed her, but she wanted him too badly to pull back. He pushed in a few inches. Paused.