CHAPTER 4: Does it Ache, Callahan?
861 Words
CALLAHAN’S POV ~
She was leaning on her hands in a way that let the cropped tank ride up higher exposing the flat area of her stomach and the lower curve of her breasts.
“The counter tile is cold on my skin,” she said very seductively. “Why don’t you warm me up?”
He had turned very pale and was inhaling through his mouth quickly. Now, he could smell her. Sweet, aroused, unmistakable. Same scent that had haunted him after family dinners when she’d worn something too short and sat across from him. The same scent he’d tried to scrub from his memory.
He should walk away. Go upstairs. Lock his bedroom door. Call Victor the next day and tell him this arrangement was not going to work.
Instead, he came a little closer, so close that their thighs brushed the insides of her knees.
“You have to return to your bed,” he said, however even he recognized that the sound of his words was quite hollow.
Isabella’s bare foot slowly moved up the outside of his thigh. Her toes touched the strong ridge of his erection through the sweatpants.
Callahan drew in a sharp breath.
“But you already are so hard,” she whispered, in fact, dropping her voice to something ladylike and intimate. “I can tell. Each time I breathe near you, you rise like this.”
Her foot was pressing lightly against the undershaft of his shaft.
“Does it ache, Callahan?”
Immediately, his hand reached out and closed around her ankle, the large palm covered the delicate bone as if it were very tiny. He did not pull her away. His thumb brushed once with a stroke along the arch of her foot, and then again, in slow and deliberate manner.
“Isabella…” this time it was a plea.
She leaned her head to one side, dark hair falling over the narrow shoulder.
“Say my name like that again, and I might come just from the sound of it.”
His jaw muscle tensed. Pre-c*m was now soaking through the sweatpants, and there was a long string of it that connected fabric to skin when she dragged her toes along his length once again. His c**k threw a spasm in response to her touch. He was steadily leaking. She could notice the wet patch that was spreading and darkening the black cotton. His balls were pulled tight under the fabric, she could feel their weight against her heel.
For a moment frozen in time, neither one of them made a move.
Then his hold on her ankle became stronger, almost hurt.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he breathlessly uttered.
“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”
A slight more opening of the thighs. She let the silk shift entirely now; her wet folds were totally exposed, pink, swollen, shiny.
“And I know that you want to play, too.”
Looking mostly at her, Callahan’s eyes wandered down to her s*x. He saw one droplet of her liquid arousal roll down her inner thigh and fall on the marble.
He swallowed hard.
He knew he could falter at this very moment and spread her even more. Put his face between her thighs and lick her until she is screaming. Taste how wet she is for him. For her step-uncle. For the man who has promised to keep her safe.
His c**k just pounded so hard that it almost hurt.
He dropped her ankle with a sudden jerk.
“Get off the counter,” he breathed out in a voice broken. “Upstairs. Go. Now.”
Isabella did not move right away. She was still observing him, chest rising and falling rapidly, clenched hands at his sides, erection painfully pushing against his sweatpants, head flushed dark and leaving a trail behind.
After that, she was slowly gliding down, allowing their bodies to touch in every way possible. Breasts dragged across his bare chest. The stomach came into contact with the wet tip of his erection through the fabric.
Just when the lips were near his ear, she hesitated briefly.
“Goodnight, Uncle Cal,” lips forming the words while breathing their warmth against the skin. “Sweet dreams.”
Having turned, she then walked off. She didn’t glance back.
Callahan was like a statue until her footsteps disappeared upstairs. Only then did he manage to let out the breath in a trembling and rough manner.
Firmly, he planted both hands on the countertop and lowered his head, trying hard to catch his breath and beat the desire that was driving him from within.
he turned to see the empty stairs where Isabella had disappeared. He still had not softened his erection.
Except that now, there was something that was much more dangerous than lust which was burning within his chest.
The sick unavoidable truth.
He wasn’t sure if he could keep his hands off her for much longer.
Not when she was sleeping just down the hall.
Not when she had already marked him with her creamy vanilla scent.
- Writer
