Chapter One
Callum
The taste of her left me craving more. Iris’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her swollen lips parting with each gasp and her face contorting in ecstasy as she pushed back her brunette hair that I’d thrown into disarray. I had the hot little brunette shoved up against the wall of the VIP room at Hooligan’s, the hottest club in Dublin. I could feel the pounding base from the balcony and see the flickering laser lights play across her pale skin from the dance floor below. All I’d done was kiss her, but she stared at me with limpid brown eyes, beseeching me to steal another taste.
So I did.
I grazed her bottom lip with my teeth as she slid her hands down my back to grab at my ass. Such initiative was admirable and deserved a reward. I needed Iris, had wanted her since the moment she’d walked into my office. Fuck, if I were totally honest with myself, I’d lusted for her since her father—my best friend—had sent her file and begged for me to find her the right internship at my company. The right position.
Well, I’d definitely found her a position under me.
Deepening the kiss, I grazed my hands over the silky fabric of her little black dress until I found her nipples. Slowly, I began lightly circling them, increasing the intensity of my movements as she writhed against me. She bucked against me and moaned, my cock throbbing in response as the blood rushed out of my head. I wasn’t ready to fuck her, not yet, but I was already picturing her pressed up against the wall. She brought the youth out in me and my inner caveman. I tugged her hair just hard enough to elicit another moan. I had so many other ways to pleasure her, so many other ways to let her know she was mine. That she always would be.
“Does my little vixen love this?” I asked, my voice a low bass. I’d fight off a dozen goddamn mastodons for a chance to fuck her. Any man with eyes would. I continued pressing my thumbs against the tight buds of her nipples and stroked them in circles. “Do you want me to do more? Beg for it.”
“God!” she screamed, and it didn’t matter.
No one would disturb the VIPs. Even the servile waitresses who snuck in and out to bring more Cristal were paid handsomely to ignore any debauchery. Good. It was just the way I wanted it. And I always got what I wanted.
“Not here, I’m afraid. Say my name, you lovely vixen.” I played up the lilt in my Irish brogue. It drove the yanks wild when I did that, made American women wetter than a damn slip-and-slide. “Say it.”
“Callum, please. I need you,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and dug fingernails into my back and shoulders. She wanted me as much as I wanted this.
“Just what I thought, darlin’.” I slipped to my knees and shoved the tight fabric of her black dress up over her thighs. They weren’t big, but they were pleasantly curvy, rounded in all the best ways, and I grasped them firmly. I squeezed them, loving the way her ample flesh warmed my palms. “Oh, vixen, what things I’m going to do to you.”
“You better, Callum.” She gasped more than spoke the words and shifted her hips toward me to encourage my plans.
Grinning, I reached up and stroked the damp underside of her panties. The silk was soaked. Good. I loved it when they were ready for me. “Jesus, Iris, you’re so wet. Did you know that? Have you ever been that wet for any other man?”
She blushed, and I knew I’d hit a nerve, knew from the first days I’d laid eyes on the girl that she was a virgin. She hadn’t admitted as much to me yet, but I could feel her mix of hesitation and utter excitement every time we did anything. I was in unexplored territory, and I fucking owned it. Now I was going to plant a flag here, mark her as mine for everyone else. Fuck her so well that no other man would ever fit as well as I did.
“Are you always this wet?”
“I…yes.” Her face was resolute, but her lower lip wobbled just a bit. Lie.
I stroked the soaked lips of her precious pussy through the fabric. “I’m going to lap up your juices.”
“I thought that men weren’t into that.” She was blushing, and that was adorable, something I never saw in the endless parade of models I’d been with lately. But even with her bashful nature, she mewled for me, was more anxious for everything to get fully started than even I was.
I smirked and grabbed the thin waistband. With a practiced snap of my wrist, I tore her panties loose and let them fall to the floor. “You thought wrong. Boys refuse to do this, but I love it. I want to hear a woman scream from the pleasure I’ve created even more than I want to come myself. Now, vixen, I’m going to taste you, and I promise it’ll be the best damn experience you’ve ever had.”
She was shivering under my grasp, her legs almost seeming to melt to jelly. But I needed better access. Gripping her knees, I nudged her a little. “Spread them for me, baby.”
Iris moved her legs apart, and I stroked her exposed folds, marveling at the juices there waiting for me. My hand sought the warmth of her pussy, and I let my fingers slip between the lips of her labia, find the warmth her vagina had to offer. I smiled at the heat of her and then pushed my thumb against her clit. She bucked and howled when I touched it. My smirk widened.
“You ready, vixen?”
“Callum!” The whine from her lips was as delicious as her nectar was. I pressed my lips to her pussy and lapped at her folds, the musky taste of her satisfying me in ways I could never articulate.
My thumb flicked against her clit, and she screamed again, and this time my tongue laved against her folds, teasing the juices out of her. Iris shuddered above me and fell against the wall. Noticing that, I settled my free hand behind her trembling thighs and steadied her. Then I really worked her over. My thumb and tongue worked in concert together, pounding against her. I wanted to be responsible for every scream, every rush of goosebumps over her skin. I fucked her hard, my thumb pressing against her clit, my tongue darting in and out of her wet pussy, my other hand clenching her thigh.
She moaned and screamed, cursed and praised my name.
Finally, when I thought even I couldn’t take any more, Iris came, a new flood of nectar teasing my tongue and flowing over my mouth. She screamed one more time, a good “Oh God” for the road, and then collapsed fully against the wall. Cleaning myself off, I got to my feet and helped her pull the hem of her dress down. I’d stash the panties in the trash; they were ruined now.
“Well,” I said, the smile still planted widely across my face. “Did you like that, vixen?”
“Yes.”
I placed a hand under her chin and forced her to look into my eyes. Mocha eyes held my own, eyes so dark I felt like I could lose myself in them for years. “And whose are you?”
“Yours,” she panted, her ragged gasps making her breasts heave tantalizingly toward me. “Only yours.”
I kissed her lips, slowly and deliberately. “Don’t you forget it.”