Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Rush Callahan kissed like a man who was used to control—firm, unyielding, daring her to stop him. She had no intention of stopping. After years without another man’s mouth on hers, it felt like rain after a drought.
When he finally leaned back, licking the last taste of smoky whiskey from her lips, she opened her eyes slowly.
His chest rose and fell as he flicked his eyes over her mouth hungrily.
His eyes were darker than she’d seen them yet.
His tongue came out, swiping a drop of whiskey from her bottom lip.
The slow, hot slide of him against her mouth drove her wild.
She lunged.
The discipline she’d always clung to snapped—twisted and molded into something wild and reckless. She slid off the coffee table and landed in his lap, cupping his face, tangling her fingers in his hair as she pressed her lips to his and kissed that dirty grin right off his face.
He was ready for her.
One big hand cupped the back of her head. The other arm pulled her down, down, until she settled perfectly into the cove of his lap, her thighs spread wide on either side of his hips. His palm landed on her ass, guiding her against him while she kissed him for all she was worth.
He let her play first, tasting him in soft, delicate forays.
Teasing. Caressing his jaw and feeling the scrape of his beard on her palms, using her thumbs to open his lips to her even more.
He tasted like whiskey and every fantasy she’d ever had in her life, a little rough, a lot dirty, more than she could probably handle. She wanted to try.
Lord help her, she wanted everything he could give her.
She wiggled deeper into his lap, desperate to feel more of him pressed tight against where she ached. His lips were firm, his mustache silky when she traced a line with her tongue over the top of his full lip. His hands slid up her thighs, roaming over her hips, urging her on with his touch.
God, she needed this. Needed him. Needed to forget every second of doubt and loneliness that had been clawing at her. Rush burned all of it away.
He gripped her tighter, one hand gripping her ass, the other flexing around the back of her neck, keeping her core pressed tight against the thick ridge.
“Oh,” she breathed, rubbing against him.
He bit her bottom lip, tugging gently, then tilted her head to take more of him, deeper, until she was trembling and needy. Everything about kissing Rush Callahan was overwhelming in the best way possible. Hot and consuming, filthy, and completely addictive.
A perfect mix of control and chaos, like they could go off the rails at any second, and that was what made her come back for more.
Years of placid, routine sex had trained her to think about passion as something measured and neat, not as necessary for her as it seemed like it was for others.
But Rush’s kisses gave her a glimpse into what it could be like to forget decorum and let her body lead.
She melted into him, shivering, embarrassed by how close she was to coming just from a kiss. Don’t embarrass yourself, Lily.
He nipped at her lip, teasing, before trailing lower, tasting the curve of her jaw, the delicate point of her chin. His lips slid down, capturing the tendon in her neck between his teeth, sucking just hard enough to make her gasp.
She sighed as he dragged her body along his. His cock pressed hot and hard through the thin fabric of their sweatpants, every inch outlined and throbbing against her.
It was liquid fire, the sharp currents of electricity that sparked from her neck to her pussy, making her tilt her head back for more.
“Rush,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair, knocking his hat to the floor as she pulled him closer.
Her breasts felt heavy, the ache between her legs deep and insistent, her nipples tight and pulsing with need.
“More,” she breathed, grinding against him—faster and harder.
More pressure. More friction. More of him.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and burning.
His mouth hovered over hers, teasing, before he crushed another hard kiss on her lips.
He groaned, low and deep, thrusting his hips up against her once, hard.
But his grip was firm when he threaded his fingers through her hair and eased her back, looking her square in the face.
“Stop,” he rasped. He pushed her back, shifting her away from where there had been nothing but heat and hunger. His breathing came in ragged pulls, his pupils blown as he took her in with a hot gaze.
Lily knew what he saw. She was flushed and panting; her lips felt kiss-swollen and tender. Her chest rose unevenly, the thin fabric of the flannel outlining her taut nipples straining toward him. Her thighs trembled around his body, betraying just how much need she had pent up.
“Why?” she whispered, terribly afraid that she knew what he would say.
“What’s this about, Lily?” Rush asked bluntly. His tone was a low command, and she didn’t think to shy away from the truth or couch her answer with coyness.
“I want you,” she said, wincing at the shakiness in her voice.
Rush leaned down and delicately grazed her collarbone with his teeth, the scrape of his cheek against her tender throat making her gasp.
Then he pulled back, his hand stilling her hips, and pinned her with a hard look.
“I want to fuck you, Lily.”
Her heart stuttered—yes! God, yes!—but before she could melt into the words, his next ones landed, sharp and measured.
“I know you can feel that,” he said roughly, thrusting up, making his arousal blatant against her. “But I need to hear you say it.”
Lily blinked. For her, for once, there was no confusion over what she wanted.
There was only heat and need and a craving for the man whose lap she was spread out on.
But as she looked at the hard set of his jaw and the heat in his eyes, she knew what he was asking, and she understood.
Rush wasn’t the kind of man to take something she wasn’t sure about.
“I want you,” she whispered. “I want this.”
He grinned then, a slow, crooked tilt of his lips that made her insides do silly things. “Good, darlin’. That’s real good, ’cause I’m going to give it to you.”
She tilted her hips, grinding a slow, deliberate circle over his lap, her body answering for her.
A shudder rolled through her as she felt him, thick and unyielding beneath her, the friction igniting something deep and hot inside her.
This. This was what had always eluded her.
What she’d heard only in whispers from her sisters and friends, what she’d read about in books.
Not just desire but ownership too. Of her body and her choices.
Rush wasn’t stopping her. He wasn’t telling her to slow down, to be careful, to think this through.
He wasn’t deciding anything for her. He was just here—solid, steady, sexy as sin.
For once, she didn’t have to think about making the right choice, weighing how her decisions would affect everyone else.
She could just feel. She could want and be wanted.
Oh God, she wanted.
A wild, unashamed part of her, one she might have been ashamed of in the light of day, rose up, greedy and feral with need.
She felt the shake in his big arms, the tension in his muscles, and something deep inside her reveled in the knowledge that she had done that to him.
That she could unravel a man like Rush Callahan.
That she, the girl who had spent her life not making waves, could make a man like him shake.
She had never been more certain of anything in her life.
She rolled her hips again for the sheer pleasure of it, chasing that delicious pressure, the exquisite press of him against her. She wasn’t waiting to be told what to do or how to be in this moment. In this moment, she was nothing but sensation and want, raw and uninhibited.
She sat back, balancing her hands on either side of his knees, and arched against him, thrusting her breasts up like an offering.
His eyes flickered for an instant while she held her breath, desperately hoping he trusted her enough to know what she wanted for herself.
His eyes flared hotter than ever. His big, rough hands slid up her thighs, curved around her waist, dragging her tighter and tighter against his cock. He paused then, leaning back, looking at her hotly. A low order rumbled from him. “Show me.”
With her fingers trembling, Lily unbuttoned the flannel shirt she wore, uncovering herself for him.
The soft fabric slipped over her shoulders and pooled around her waist, leaving her full breasts naked in the glow of the fire.
She leaned back, thrusting her chest forward proudly, watching lust spread over his face, dark and dangerous.
“Jesus,” he breathed, his voice raw with desire. He cupped her breast, plumping it, watching the soft swell of it spill over his hands almost obscenely. Rush sucked in a sharp breath, looking reverent. “Never cover these up again.”
His thumb brushed the pink stone nestled between her breasts. “What is this?”
“It’s rose quartz,” she said, smoothing the familiar, comforting shape, warm from the heat of her skin. “It’s good for emotional balance.”
Rush hummed, skimming the stone against the curve of her breast. “It’s warm,” he murmured, rolling it between his fingers before letting it slip back against her skin. “Like you.”
Lily laughed breathlessly, her stomach fluttering at the look on his face.
She stopped, jerking forward suddenly to wrap her arms around his head when he bent to take her nipple in his mouth.
One big hand slid down her ribs, fingers tracing the sides of her breasts while he outlined her nipple lightly with his tongue.