Knight of Wands (Knights of the Tarot Book 1) (12 page)

Pleasure sang through her like a plucked string, pushing her over the edge. As the climax rang through her, she arched against him, urging him to leap, too. Planting himself deep, he spilled himself in violent pulses she could feel all the way to her bones.

When his body ceased convulsing, he pulled out of her and tumbled onto the bed beside her. Gathering her into his arms, he held her against his damp and heaving chest.

She snuggled against him, reveling in his closeness. “So, did I measure up?”

“Oh, aye,” he rasped in his sexy burr. “You were bloody brilliant.”

* * * *

Callum meant every word. The sex had been bloody brilliant and he wanted more. Rolling onto his back, he pulled her body atop his. Rather than protest, as most women did, she squealed with delight, she set her hands on his chest and, with a spicy grin, pushed back against his hardening cock. He took her breasts in his hands, marveling at their supple weight and fullness. She really did have a lovely pair.

Throwing back her head, she laughed and tossed her hair. “You really are rapacious, aren’t you?”

He smiled up at her. “Is that a problem?”

“Do you hear me complaining?”

He didn’t, which pleased him immensely. If she could keep up with him…well, no matter. She would be gone soon, so he’d better just enjoy this while it lasted. The desire to be inside her again burned in every cell of his body. So did the dark thirst. Taking her face between his hands, he pulled her mouth down on his. As he captured her tongue between his lips, he pushed his cock into her, shuddering with pleasure as luscious heat encased his length. God, she felt good. Only one thing would make this moment more sublime. He nipped her tongue just hard enough to draw blood. She made a sound of protest and tried to pull away, but he held her fast. As briny satisfaction filled his mouth, his cock got harder. He groaned and thrust into her, burying himself as deeply as he could.

He was dimly aware of hair caressing his face, of hot blasts of breath, of fingers pinching his nipples hard enough to hurt. Slipping a hand between their bodies, he maneuvered until he found the magic bean hiding within her folds. As he pleasured her, she slid up and down his pole like a strip-club dancer while squeezing his cock with exquisite finesse.

Feeling her trembling on the brink of orgasm, he released her tongue. She sat up, seemingly unbothered, and set her hands on his chest. As she rode him hard, he darted his gaze between the expression of pleasure on her face and her lovely bouncing breasts. Though his bollocks ached for release, he clenched against the urge to come, waiting for her. Her rapid breathing and breathy moans suggested he wouldn’t have long to wait.

He didn’t. The moment her sex started convulsing around his, he drove into her like a demon again and again until his seed cannoned forth in pulsations of ecstasy. Through the clouds of euphoria, he heard her say, “You bit my tongue.”

Callum opened his eyes, unaware he’d closed them, to find her frowning down at him. He gave her a penitent smile, hoping she wouldn’t catch on. “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, still frowning. “It was just…well,
different
.”

He brushed her cheek. He didn’t want to disconnect from her. If he had his way, they’d remain as they were until he roused again, which wouldn’t be long.

“Would you like to have another go?”

She nodded, wearing a smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m always ready.”

Her smile broadened. “I’m glad to hear it, because most of the men I’ve dated couldn’t keep up with me.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Her pretty brow furrowed contemplatively. “Do you think it’s possible to die from too much pleasure?”

“If it is,” he said, hardening again, “can you think of a better way to go?”

Chapter 6

After making love several more times, Vanessa fell asleep in Callum’s arms and awoke sometime later to the first delicious shudders of orgasm. As she opened her eyes, thunderheads of rapture rolled through her body, one after another. Looking down, she found golden leonine eyes looking back at her from between her legs.

“Good morning.” He offered the greeting with an adorable sideways grin.

“I’ll say.” Her body still quaked from the aftershocks of climax. “That was quite the wake-up call.”

“I’m pleased you’re pleased, my bonny butterfly.”

She reached for him. “Come here, my gorgeous lion.”

He got up on all fours and crawled over her. She shot a glance between his legs, expecting the arousal she found, but not the blush that heated her face or the joke that popped into her mind. A bemused grin broke across her face as his handsome face came level with hers.

“What?” He rubbed noses.

“Nothing.”

“
What?
” He kissed her mouth with a softness that made her yearn for more.

“It’s just a corny joke.”

“Tell me.” He kissed her again, lingering this time like a sweet aftertaste.

“It’s stupid.” Her face burned with embarrassment. “Really,
really
stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He kissed her lips again, then her chin and nose. “Tell me your corny joke,
mo dearbadan-de
, so I can get on with making love to you.”

As she blushed even hotter, she sucked in a breath and squeezed shut her eyes. “Knock, knock.”

His tongue flicked against her lips. “Who’s there?”

“Connie.”

He kissed the corners of her mouth, one after the other. “Connie who?”

It was all she could do not to crack up as she delivered the punch line. “Connie Lingus. Can your tongue come out to play?”

He laughed heartily. “I’ve heard worse.”

Moving to her chest, he took a nipple in his mouth. It was already hard, thanks to his earlier oblations. She brushed her fingers up and down his sides, relishing the feel of soft flesh and sinewy muscle over solid bone.

“You’ve got lovely breasts.”

She smiled, feeling syrupy inside. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the ones with lovely breasts.”

He moved lower, forging a trail of tender kisses that pebbled her abdomen with goose pimples. She raked her fingers through his mane, struck again by its softness.

“You’ve got great hair.”

“Thank you.” He pressed his mouth against the manicured strip of hair covering her public mound. “So do you.”

More goose bumps erupted as he ran his hands down her thighs. Slipping them under her buttocks, he lifted her hips off the bed. With one thrust, he sank into her, slow and deep.

Seeing him in the daylight filled her chest with awe. He was so good-looking it took her breath away. It seemed unfair that he’d also been blessed with intelligence, a noble title, and a big dick as well; but then, life was seldom fair. Though, admittedly, it felt fairer right now than it ever had before.

Rising, he pulled out of her grasp. She dropped her arms and lifted her legs, setting them across his shoulders. He took hold of her hips and held her fast as he moved in and out of her, rotating his pelvis each time he did. He was hitting that magic spot again, pushing her toward another explosive climax.

Satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth. Maybe size didn’t matter if a man had no clue what to do with his generous proportions, but this one sure as hell did. While wonderful at the moment, Callum’s skill in bed also had its downside. Leaving him when their time was up would be that much more difficult.

She’d meant what she’d said about her past lovers having trouble keeping up with her. Most had complained about her voracious need for sex. Nick had gone so far as to call her a nymphomaniac. And still, they couldn’t seem to let her go.

Callum was still fucking her, driving her closer to orgasm with each fervent thrust. Desire roiled in her abdomen again, low and deep, promising to unleash a tempest. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, her fingers clawing the sheets, her hips bumping against his. When the climax crowned, powerful ecstatic convulsions shook her body. He soon joined her, releasing a guttural roar of satisfaction as he unloaded inside her.

“Vanessa.”

He spoke her name in the low, reverent tone of an incantation.

There was no need for further charms. She was already falling under his spell.

Crashing down like a wave, his sweat-slickened body unfurled over hers, his hands grasping her face as he claimed her mouth. She shuddered under him, raw and satisfied. Pushing up on his arms, he ended the kiss and brought her back to reality.

Meeting her gaze with twinkling golden eyes, he smiled down at her. “What would you like to do today?”

She returned his smile. God, he was wonderful. “Don’t tell me you’ve hung up your tour guide cap after only one day.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, then returned to their usual honey color. “I thought we might take a day off from sightseeing.”

She ran her hands down his bulging biceps. “In that case, you know what I’d really like to do?”

“Tell me.”

“Spend the whole day in bed making love.”

He gave her a tender peck on the lips. “That can be arranged. Shall I ask Hamish to bring our breakfast up?”

She nodded her approval. A sexy host with a libido equal to hers, orgasmic wake-up calls, and breakfast in bed? So far, the accommodations at Castle Barrogill were far surpassing her expectations.

* * * *

Callum was more than happy to spend the day in bed. Even as they sat across from one another, sipping coffee and sharing the platter of fruit and cheeses Hamish had brought up, he yearned to be inside her again. Vanessa was passionate, responsive, and refreshingly open…well, now that she’d owned up to her true motives for wanting to get inside his castle, anyway. He’d considered having Hamish hide her equipment, just to be safe, but decided there was little chance of her finding anything more supernatural than Sorcha’s ghost. Speaking of which…he’d daftly failed to consider his dead wife might appear in a sixteenth-century gown—a phenomenon he was hard-pressed to explain.

As he reached for a slice of cheese, she did the same. Sparks ignited at the spot where their hands collided. With a smile, he surrendered his claim. Would he be able to surrender her just as easily when their time together ended? Aye, well. Like it or not, he’d have to, wouldn’t he?

“Callum?”

Meeting her gaze, he waited for her to continue. He’d been right about those eyes of hers. He was going under.

“Tell me more about your wife,” she said.

Dread jabbed. If she asked about the ghost’s costume, he’d be forced to pretend ignorance or invent a story. Either effort would kill his present contentment quicker than he could say “saltpeter.” Licking his lips, he asked guardedly, “What do you wish to know?”

“Why did you marry a woman who didn’t enjoy sex?”

“I didn’t know she was frigid until after we were wed.”

She looked somewhat surprised. “You didn’t sleep with her beforehand?”

“No. As I told you yesterday, our marriage was arranged. We weren’t introduced until the...engagement party.” He’d almost said “betrothal ceremony,” but stopped himself before he offered her another clue to his advanced age. Aquarians were masterful puzzle-solvers, probably the reason she’d become an investigator. If he didn’t watch himself, he might be forced to erase her memory before she left him, which, for reasons he’d rather not contemplate, he’d rather not do.

“Wow,” she said. “I couldn’t imagine marrying anyone I hadn’t slept with…or anyone I had, for that matter.”

For some reason, he didn’t like hearing this. “Why not?”

“I have no interest in getting married.”

“Even if you’re in love?”

She smirked. “There’s little chance of that happening.”

The statement stung his ego, though he couldn’t imagine why. Surely, he wasn’t daft enough to get emotionally involved when she was going home to America in another two days. Aye, well. If he was that foolish, he’d have only himself to blame for his heartache.

They sat in silence for a few strained moments before she reached out, took one of his hands, and lifted it to her mouth. The desire dampened by talk of Sorcha rekindled as she kissed his knuckles, one by one.

“Would
you
ever consider marrying again?” she asked.

The question startled him. Was she asking out of self-interest? Bloody hell. Her mixed signals were making him dizzy. After considering his answer carefully, he said, “Only under extraordinary circumstances.”

* * * *

Vanessa dozed off in Callum’s arms after making love, but awoke alone. Seeing her chance to have a look around, she crawled out of bed, threw on a sweater and jeans, and very quietly removed her thermal camera from her suitcase. If there was a vampire living inside the castle walls, the camera reveal its whereabouts—providing, of course, the undead gave off body heat.