He wraps me in his arms and kisses the hell out of me. His hands all over my body. He picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, taking me to his bed.

Finally . . .

We get there and he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the ground. He takes off his shoes and socks and unfastens his belt, so he’s naked except for his black slacks.

He lays me down and kisses my neck, licking and sucking.

I moan and squirm under him, wanting him to take me already.

His lips find my nipple and he sucks it in his mouth, sending a tingling sensation right between my legs.

He turns his head and takes the other one in his mouth, and I moan in response.

His hand slips between my legs and I feel him tease me through my lace panties. His lips find mine and he kisses me hard and rough, his teeth nipping at my lower lip and his tongue slipping between my lips to taste. His kiss is drugging and delicious, his lips perfectly molded against mine.

His fingers keep working me through my panties and I feel like I’m going to die if he doesn’t give me more soon.

“Callan, please,” I beg.

He kisses my neck and uses his hand to pull my panties to the side before pushing a finger inside me.

I gasp and hold on to his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin as he slowly pumps his finger in and out.

“God, Olivia . . . you’re so tight,” he groans as he keeps fingering me.

I whimper and feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

I bite his neck a little. He groans low in his throat, and at the sound, need rips through me. I run my hands over his head, and his hair ends up rumpled and sexy.

I feel drunk, and naughty, and impulsive. I’ve never been the girl to just go with it, to fuck everything, but this . . . this man . . . this moment . . . this need, I cannot deny myself him. He drags his fingers down my bare abdomen and expertly teases his hand over my panties.

Oh.

God.

My hips jerk in a circle to get closer and I grip the back of his neck for balance.

“You’re so responsive. I could tease you all night and get off on watching you.” He rubs my sex lightly over my panties and leans over to nibble my lips. He kisses and nibbles my neck and continues to move his finger, making my knees weak when he knowingly passes by my clit.

I’ve never had this. Even kisses like this. I want to take every feeling apart and figure out its contents and I want to put into words how amazing it feels, and I want to forget about all that and just feel alive, intensely connected, wanted and so, so desirous. I’ve wanted things, but this wanting is more like an ache or an obsession. I can’t seem to pull apart the feeling either, or give it a word, so I don’t, and just let him finger me, half dressed at his place, panting and making noises like I’m some sex kitten.

His toned arms come around me.

He’s soon tasting my nipple again with his tongue, long, warm swipes. He moves his tongue to flick the tip in a circle around my breast. He squeezes the flesh to push my nipple deeper into his mouth, and when he has it right where he wants it, he sucks.

He stops and lifts his head and watches me, lips curled, as a fingertip circles the sensitized point of my nipple.

He hooks his thumb on the edge of my panties and pulls them down my legs. Revealing my pussy.

He grabs me by the ass and dips his head downward. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” His eyes are dilated and swirling with a combination of tenderness, desire, and heat.

His lips press to the inside of my thigh, then trail a delicious path up my abdomen. “Open your mouth and kiss me,” he says.

I arch my back and stick my tongue into his mouth even as he plunges his own in mine. He groans as he makes contact. “You as into this as I am?”

“Mmm . . .”

He ducks his head and a hungry sucking sound leaves him as he tortures the hardened, sensitized point of my nipple back in his mouth.

I cling to his shoulders, pleasure cascading through me as I start humping his hand.

“Callan . . .”

“Callan what?”

“Callan Carmichael—”

“That’s right.”

He smothers my mouth and kisses me hard again.

We’re kissing wetly and heatedly when he withdraws his finger from my tight sheath and continues brushing, grazing. I can’t breathe from the anticipation of waiting for him again. I pull my mouth free and press it against his jaw, panting against his skin. Soon I’m holding in my breath, waiting for it—for him to fill me with something, anything at this point would be good.

“Is this what you want?”

He caresses my breast with one hand as he eases the tip of his long, strong middle finger inside me.

I groan out something unintelligible, thrusting my hip out for more.

He pulls it back and smiles.

“You want it or not?” He moves over my slickness and I groan.

“Yes,” I gasp.

He pushes it into his mouth and tastes it, and then he pushes it back into my pussy. Already my orgasm is building as he rhythmically starts to finger me.

I undulate to his hand.

He tastes my mouth again, really possessively this time. I’m still not used to feeling this intensity during sex.

Now I get it, why people have heart attacks during sex. Maybe my lungs will just turn to stone because it sure as hell feels like it.

All my energy is gathering in a ball of fire at the core of my body, I don’t have the energy to breathe, much less speak. But I somehow manage to breathlessly say, “So . . . amazing . . .”

“How much do you want it?” He rubs his thumb over my clit, clenching his jaw as he pushes another finger inside me.