Before she could even muster up a proper defense, he was jerking his pajama bottoms down and kicking her legs apart. His kiss was too potent. The erotic way his tongue played with her mouth, demanding surrender, made her wet and throbbing between her thighs. He grasped her right leg behind her knee and tucked her leg over his hip and began to work his way inside her. Through the haze of lust, she knew she needed him to explain what she’d seen…after they’d sated the wildness rising between them like an unstoppable force.
The blunt head of his erection parted her channel, driving in slowly, but filling her until she couldn’t breathe. He hoisted her up, one hand under her ass as he pinned her against the elevator wall and fucked her. There was no other word for it. The movement of his hips changed from slow and gentle to hard and deep, almost punishing, but that thrilled her all the more. He wasn’t gentle now, but purely animalistic. She cried out softly each time he slammed into her, not from pain but from the surprise at the pleasurable riot of sensations his possession created.
He was close to her, inside her, part of her. Wes’s tongue taunted, teased, his cock ravaging her with the wicked thrusts. She’d never known something so dirty and rough could feel so good. He was fucking her in an elevator and she was completely naked. The whole idea made her skin flush with heat and her womb clench around him.
“Baby,” he whispered raggedly against her throat, “you feel so good.” He nipped her throat. He was losing that stiff formality, and he was just a man driven by lust and instinct. A man she couldn’t resist.
The way he’d said “baby” made that delicious pressure inside her shoot that much higher and closer to that beautiful orgasm she knew was a breath away.
“Oh God, Wes!” She arched her back, and he seemed to plunge even deeper, and he responded with a guttural growl, slamming into her over and over. When he nuzzled her neck, then bit down on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, she exploded. Flames seemed to lick along her skin, singeing her with an overwhelming rush of pleasure. She swore he came at the same time she did, his body stiffening, his breathing harsh and ragged as he rode out both their climaxes with continued thrusts a few moments longer. She was weightless and shaking, her whole body out of control. If he put her down, she’d fall right on her ass.
“Fuck, that was…” He shook his head with a smile. “Callie, darling.” He nuzzled her cheek and she started to almost purr, like a contented cat. The man had just destroyed her in the best way. She was completely and irrevocably his.
“Wes.” She let his name escape her lips, but she couldn’t seem to find the words for anything else.
“Come on, let’s get you back into bed.” He set her down on her feet and she clung to him, afraid she’d fall. With a quick jerk, he tugged his pajama bottoms back up over his lean hips and then retrieved the terry cloth robe from the floor and tucked her arms through the sleeves and secured it around her snuggly. He pressed the emergency button, turning it off, and the doors opened immediately, revealing the hall back to his apartment. She loosely held the robe closed and then squeaked in surprise as he lifted her into his arms and carried her back in.
“I can walk,” she grumbled, albeit too drowsily as she tucked her head against his shoulder. She was getting used to being carried. It was nice. On the ranch, she was always carrying things, doing it herself, working until her muscles were sore and aching. Now she was being carried, and she felt so safe and secure.
“Sure you can. After an orgasm like that, darling, you’d fall right on your face, and I like your pert little nose far too much to see it bruised.” His rumbling chuckle vibrated through her and she closed her eyes for a moment before the rush of memory of why she’d ran from him flooded back.
“Wes…are you going to tell me about what I saw tonight? I have to know what you were doing. It looked bad. To be honest, it scared me to death.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Enough that you ran from me in the middle of the night, naked as the day you were born. I won’t forget that anytime soon.” This time he was the one muttering. “But I promise, I’ll explain everything. I’ll even show you.” They both remained silent all the way back to his bedroom, and despite the anxious flutter in her stomach, she couldn’t get up the nerve to ask him again. Instead, she ran through every bad scenario in her head that could account for what she’d seen, but she couldn’t think of any reason for what she’d seen him do.
When Wes set her down in the pile of rumpled sheets and blankets, he caught her chin in his head and tilted her head back.
“Move from this spot, and I’ll chase you down again, and spank you. That’s a promise,” he warned. Then he left the room.
Callie regained her breath and pulled the robe close around her shoulders. Adrenaline still pumped through her, but it was wearing off and she would soon crash from exhaustion.
Wes returned to the bedroom, the white tube in his hands.
He eased down on the edge of the bed and removed the cap on the tube. Then he slid the contents free.
It wasn’t drugs or money or anything else she might have expected. It was a painting. He spread it out carefully, as though he were handling a priceless artifact. She leaned forward to get a better look at the painting. A woman in deep concentration was standing and overlooking a cliff side.
“This is one of Goya’s paintings. A rare one.”
“It’s so small.” She touched the edge of the canvas, careful not to touch the oil. It was little bigger than a sheet of paper.
“The Mortons are friends of mine who live in Weston. I helped them procure this painting a few years ago through Sotheby’s. A month ago it was stolen from their house during a party. It was the night before I flew out to see you and give you your party invitation. When you and I met Dimitri for dinner, I asked him to check into his contacts on the black market to track this painting down.”
Callie tensed, shooting her gaze up to his. “Black market?”
Wes carefully rolled the Goya back up and put it into the tube. “Yes. The man you saw tonight, that was the man who bought the Goya from the thief. Dimitri and I were encouraging him to talk.” He showed his bruised knuckles to her with a roguish grin. “I got a bit carried away. You shouldn’t have witnessed it.” When he brushed a lock of hair back from her face, she didn’t flinch. She’d misjudged him and she hated how the guilt seemed to choke her.
“Are you still afraid of me?” His blue eyes seared her, plunging deep into her and shining a light in the hidden depths of his soul.
“I’m not scared anymore. I feel awful, Wes. I jumped to crazy conclusions.” It sounded so childish to have been afraid of him, but she hoped he’d understand what she meant.
“I did haul a man out of a trunk and rough him up.” He raised one eyebrow and then pounced on her before she could defend herself. Wes tugged her legs apart and she fell flat on her back, gasping when he pressed a kiss to her belly, then trailed his mouth down to her mound. She yelped in surprise at his sudden sensual assault, writhing beneath him as he licked her again and again, the torturous pleasure zinging straight to her clit. She clawed at the bedding, arching her back. He was relentless in his seduction, feathering light kisses on her mons, then flicking his tongue inside her until she was mindless and begging.
Then he lifted her legs up, throwing her ankles over his shoulders as he positioned himself at her entrance. He thrust inside her and they shared a soft moan as he filled her again. She was sensitive, so needing, that each inch he surged deeper felt too good and too much. Her head thrashed as he took his time entering her, slow and deep, his eyes locked on hers. That cobalt blue captivating her.