Unleashed: Volume 4 (Unleashed #4)

by Callie Harper

  The moment she settled in comfortable, I flicked the switch I held in my palm. The butt plug began a gentle vibration.

  She gasped, “Declan!” Her body tensed, her palms pressing at her sides against the cushion.

  “Stay still,” I warned her, watching her struggle, wanting a front-row seat as her arousal built and threatened to crest and break.

  I played with her like that for a long time, almost an hour. I knew no mercy. I’d slowly build up the vibrations, let her moan and pant, her thighs rubbing together but I wouldn’t let her touch herself. She wanted to, desperately, I could tell by the way she kept fisting the pillows at her head and gripping the cushion at her sides.

  Every now and then I’d torture her, saying, “Let me check if you’re ready yet.” I’d reach down to her pussy and slowly push her bikini bottom to the side, watching her pant, her ribs moving up and down. Sometimes she’d watch me, her eyes glazed with lust. Sometimes she’d throw her head back, eyes closed, as if wanting to block out any sensations except the ones I gave her. I’d bring my thick finger to her sopping wet pussy and growl appreciatively. Then I’d taste her, because I couldn’t resist, the honey sweetness so delicious on my tongue.

  Then I’d stop. “Not yet,” I’d taunt her. Her mewls and whimpers, soft pants and moans made me rock hard.

  Flicking on the vibrating butt plug pushed deep into her ass, I brought the pressure up to medium. She tensed and her eyes fluttered back in her head, her jaw set.

  “You like that, baby?” I whispered to her.

  “Yes…uh…” She was grunting, starting to lose her ability to talk. “Uh, I need…uh…” I liked her non-verbal, overwhelmed by physical need, desperate for me to do anything to give her relief.

  “Keep quiet,” I reminded her, as I did whenever she started getting too worked up. Waiters and other hotel guests were outside. None bothered us in our private cabana, not with most of the curtains drawn, but if she screamed they’d hear. She had to work to keep it a secret.

  “Please, Declan, please,” she managed to beg me.

  “Not yet,” I whispered, turning up the strength of the vibrations. She writhed, her thighs parting in a silent ask. She needed more, needed me to bring her further.

  With my free hand, I brought my fingers back to her sex, feeling the soaking wet fabric plastered to her folds. She bit off a cry, tossing her head to the side as I stroked her. String bikinis were easy. I pulled on the tie at the side and had her completely bare for me in no time.

  I teased her, toyed with her, brought her to the brink playing with both back and front but never let her come. She lay there writhing in turmoil, shivering and moaning with need.

  Finally, my cock hard as granite, Kara nearly insane with desire, I murmured the words she needed most. “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes,” she moaned low in her throat.

  “Good.” I stroked her. “Now you may pinch your nipples.” Her hands flew to her erect nipples, pinching them hard through the fabric.

  “Out so I can see,” I commanded harshly. She moaned and complied, pushing the tiny triangles of fabric down and under her tits, then thrusting her breasts out naked so I could watch. She brought her fingers to her peaked tips, tweaking and pinching them hard for me just like I’d asked.

  The butt plug vibrating on high, I rewarded her by pressing my thumb directly against her clit.

  “Now come for me, hard.” I growled the command and she bucked against me, convulsing, creaming all over my fingers. She leaned her face into a towel at her side so she could muffle her screams. I’d placed it there. I always tried to think of anything she might need. I couldn’t ever get enough of her—the moment when her perfect body went so tense, a rigid board strumming with need then shuddering into release, thrashing wildly as she nearly blacked out.

  I gave her a long time to come down, holding her close to me and stroking her hair. I slipped out the butt plug and got her completely comfortable. I covered her up once again so I could bring up the curtains on our private cabana and let the gentle island breezes caress her face.

  She nuzzled in on my chest, a dreamy smile, her body soft and pliant. I’d never get enough of this woman.

  EPILOGUE

  Kara

  Six Months Later

  “I’ve been thinking, Kara.” Declan stood in our private honeymoon suite, a drink in hand, some stubble on his handsome jaw. He wore lightweight pants and nothing else, the warm island breeze caressing us. “Let’s go to the Kavanaugh holiday party.”

  And here I was thinking I was the one about to drop a bomb.

  I’d just taken a test in the bathroom, the kind with the stick you peed on. It had a cross on it and if my shaking hands and nervously excited brain were correctly processing the instructions on the folded-up piece of paper from the box, it meant that I was pregnant. Declan and I were going to have a baby.

  But here he was telling me that he was ready to meet his family. He’d had time to think it over, to adjust to the bombshell of his father’s identity. He’d gotten over the pain and hurt and fear and now he was ready and willing to take a chance.

  “You want to go, right?” he asked me as I stood there, stunned and silent.

  “Um, yeah.” I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts of baby rattles and baby blankets and soft, pink little baby hands holding on to my finger.

  “We can fly up to New York from here and spend a few days. It’ll be fun going back there with you. We had a good time this summer.”

  “We did.” I wrapped my hands around his neck. “You really want to go to the party? We don’t have to, you know.”

  “I want to go. I want to meet my family.”

  I kissed him with all my heart. I wanted to meet them, too. After our honeymoon.

  And what a honeymoon it was, all warm breezes and more hot orgasms that I could count. After you got into double digits, your brain went a little soft. It was a proven scientific fact.

  I dissolved into his kiss. With his mouth on me, it was easy to forget everything else.

  Almost. Because telling Declan that he was going to become a father was a big deal. Honestly, given the complicated emotions he had about his own father, I didn’t know how he was going to react.

  “I think I’m ready to meet them all.” Declan stroked my hair, gazing at me with a slight smile playing across his lips. “I would have liked to have met my father.” A moment of pain flashed in his eyes. I brought my hand to his cheek. “I promise, Kara.” His voice choked with emotion, he brought his hand up and placed it over my own. “If we ever…I’ll be a better father. If someday—”

  “I’m pregnant.” I blurted it out before I knew what I was doing. So much for keeping the news to myself. I’d never been good at that kind of thing.

  “What?” He looked at me, open-mouthed in surprise.

  “I’m pregnant. I know it’s not the right time to tell you but I had to tell you.” Words practically tumbled out of my mouth, one tripping over the other to get to the end.

  “You’re pregnant?” he repeated, looking dumbstruck.

  I nodded. “You’re going to be a father. And you’re going to be so amazing.”

  “Are you all right?” He brought his hands to my shoulders. “Do you need anything? Should you sit down?”

  I laughed. “I’m fine. I’m only about five weeks along. I feel great.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he repeated. I nodded, looking up at him shyly. To my great relief and joy, a smile started to grow on his face. “You’re pregnant.” This time he sounded almost excited. “You’re going to have a baby!”

  I nodded, tears coming to my eyes. He wrapped me in his arms and I felt his emotion, too, as he took a deep, shaking breath and held me close.

  “Kara,” he murmured. “You’ve given me so much.”

  “You don’t realize how much you’ve given me.” I looked up at him. “Declan, I know all this with your father is crazy, and now we’re going to have a baby an
d it’s all so much. But you know what? I think everything’s going to work out.”

  “Yeah?” He matched the crazy, reckless smile on my face with one of his own.

  “Yeah. I think we’re going to have a great time meeting your family. And then I think we’re going to have a baby and start a family of our own.”

  He laughed. “You think?”

  “I do.” I nodded through the happy tears in my eyes.

  “And you’re OK to fly?” Concern flooded his gaze again as he looked at my perfectly flat stomach.

  “Yes, Declan.” I laughed.

  “OK.” He smiled at me. “Let’s do this. I’m all in.”

  I threw my arms around his neck. His smell, his warmth, his love, I never wanted to let go. I couldn’t believe life could be so good.

  “We’re going to have a baby,” Declan murmured. I looked up into his smiling face. He brought a hand to my hair, smoothing it back as he liked to do. “Nothing else matters, you know. Just you and me.”

  “And baby makes three,” I finished for him, smiling.

  He was right. No matter what happened next, we had everything we needed right there. Our love was everything.

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading Unleashed! I hope you loved every page! It’s such fun sharing the story of Kara and Declan with you.

  Want a FREE bonus chapter of Declan and Kara meeting the Kavanaugh family? Sign up for my newsletter here. When you sign up, I’ll send it to you! And you’ll be the first to know about my new releases, sales and other freebies. I’ve got a hot 2016 planned!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at my next release, Undone.

  Kara and Declan kicked off the Beg for It series with Unleashed. It ended with the bombshell—he’s got siblings! A whole bunch of them! Meet Declan’s brother Ash in the next book in the series, Undone, out in March and available here

  UNDONE, VOLUME 1

  (the Beg for It series)

  Take one bad boy rock god. Mix slowly with one wholesome librarian. Add a dash of paparazzi, a twist of scandal, and you won’t believe how good this dish tastes.

  Ash

  It’s pretty easy being a rock god. Party. Perform. P*ssy. Repeat. I’m 26 and it’s worked for me for years. Until I was caught ripping out the heart of America’s sweetheart in a video gone viral. Now #HatePlayerAsh is trending on Twitter, she’s writing a song about how much I suck and I’m in desperate need of image rehab, fast.

  Good thing paparazzi chased me into that library. Had I not ducked under that desk I never would have found myself next to the long, sexy legs and disapproving gaze of Anika Ivanov. In my world of use and get used, she’s a unicorn. A kind, 24-year-old, hard-working, family-oriented children’s librarian. My agent agrees, she’s the one to set everything right. All she needs to do is fake a month-long public romance, let the world see me fall hard for her, then dump me in a brutal, public display. It’s genius.

  Now I just have to convince her to agree. And convince myself that the only reason I want to spend the month with her is to improve my image. It’s not her full, luscious lips or her soft, seductive laugh or those fantasies I keep having of tying her down to my bed as I make her quiver and pant and call out my name.

  Ana

  Ash Black. In my library. Under my desk. It’s hard to believe it happened. I’ve listened to his voice enough times, my favorite soundtrack as I walk down the streets of New York. My secret bad boy crush, the smoldering, shirtless star of the tabloids, all muscles and tattoos. Then one day he shows up and kisses me in my break room.

  What’s even crazier is how he wants me to spend the next month. Backstage at his shows in L.A., San Francisco and Vegas, candlelight dinners in New York and Paris. He wants the world to believe he’s fallen in love. With me.

  I’ve got to say no. He’s a walking disaster with a dirty mouth and wicked hands that melt my panties right off of me. This month would take everything in my well-ordered, neat little life and shake it up like a snow globe.

  Then why am I so tempted to say yes?

  UNDONE, VOLUME 1

  One Month From Now

  Ana

  I pulled against my wrist restraints, panting as his tongue trailed a slow, teasing path down my stomach. A moan escaped my lips. I needed to touch him, fist my fingers in his thick, jet-black hair and dig my nails into his broad, muscular shoulders. But I couldn’t even see him. He’d blindfolded me. Twisting my head to the side, I could still picture him, tattoos licking along his biceps, down by his abs, right at the start of his V.

  “Please!” I couldn’t help but cry out. I needed more, needed his tongue lower, needed to be set free so I could at least touch myself if not him. He’d worked me up into such a frenzy. With a low, satisfied growl deep in his chest, he dipped his tongue in a lazy circle around my belly button. He insisted on having me his way, tormenting every inch of me until I begged for it.

  “Ash!” I strained against my ties, spread-eagle on the king-size bed, but he’d fastened them well. All I succeeded in doing was arching up my back, further offering my naked breasts up for his pleasure.

  He chuckled, deep and wicked, tracing my curves with his hand. “You like being tied up, don’t you, my Ana?” His fingers melted me as he stroked my limbs, up my side, along the swell of my breast. He paused and I held my breath, wondering what he might do next, feeling a throb deep in my pussy, drawing more slick, sweet juice from my core. The anticipation, the submission, it made me crazy.

  But he kept on going, up past my breast, along my collar-bone, up my arm to circle my restraints. He drew my attention to his control, how he had me tied up, exactly where he wanted me.

  “I knew you’d like it,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful, laid out here for me.”

  I panted like an animal and swallowed hard. A sliver of my mind still reared up in shock at what I was doing, what I was letting him do to me. Willingly turning myself over to him in complete submission. I’d never done anything like it before, letting someone tie me up. I’d thought about it, even touched myself fantasizing about it late at night. But never in my bland, boring, good girl what-passed-for-a-sex-life had I ever done anything like it.

  Turned out that getting snowed in at a cabin in the mountains with Ash Black, the sexiest, hottest rock god on the planet brought out the naughty side in me.

  A month ago, I never would have believed any of this would happen. Sure, I’d fantasized about the lead singer of my favorite band. Plenty of times. But I wasn’t alone in that. Last year Ash Black been on the cover of People magazine, sexiest man alive. I think he’d starred in more than a few late-night fantasies.

  But even my fantasies hadn’t taken me this far. A month ago, I never could have imagined this scene. I wouldn’t have recognized the naked woman, bound and blindfolded on the bed, writhing and whimpering beneath Ash’s large, powerful body.

  Suddenly, I felt wet heat on my aching, erect nipple. I cried out as he sucked me, licked me, pleasure rocketing directly to my sex.

  “You need this, Ana. Don’t you?” he whispered, husky. I could feel his stubble, rough along my soft breast as he circled my nipple, slowly, teasing me again.

  “Yes!” I cried out. “Please!” I begged for release, not from bondage, but from the intensity of the building, cresting orgasm I could feel quivering up inside of me. I needed to let it out, and I needed him to free it from me.

  “Oh! Please!” I begged, shameless.

  “I knew you had this in you,” Ash whispered, up at my neck, licking, sucking me there at my sensitive flesh. Moaning, I tossed my head back, baring my skin, giving him full access. “From the second I met you, all buttoned up in that library, I knew.”

  “You couldn’t have.” Even in my frenzied state, I knew it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. I hadn’t even known I’d had this wild, wanton sex goddess within my prim and proper exterior. A children’s librarian, I was the daughter of a strict, older couple of Russian immigrants, raised throu
gh generations of sacrifice and hardship to work and then work some more. I’d never cut loose before, not once. My largest act of rebellion had been to move to Brooklyn, an hour and a half from my childhood home in upstate New York. And listen to Ash Black’s pure, driven rock music late at night.

  Now I had the man himself, the literal poster boy for bad boy rock stars. Or more accurately, he had me. All alone. In a cabin shut off from the world in the epic storm draught-stricken California had been waiting for for years.

  “You can scream, Ana.” Ash licked at my collarbone, trailing fingers along my outstretched arms. “You can yell at the top of your lungs. No one will hear you.”

  “Ash!” I cried out as he sank down once again, capturing my erect, aroused nipple between his teeth. He bit down just enough to make it burn so good. He palmed my breast, feasting on me, sucking hard, then light, just a whisper of a lick around my nipple as I panted and quivered. All the rumors about this man were true, every single one of them. He was an arrogant, rich playboy, a heartthrob and a heartbreaker, a panty-melting bad boy who had dozens upon hundreds of women throwing themselves at him night after night.

  But he’d chosen me. It was me he’d tied down to his bed, me he had nasty, dirty plans for all night long. Me, alone with him, snowed in and at his mercy.

  “You can scream when you come, Ana,” he whispered, trailing his tongue down my stomach. Slowly, so slowly. I moaned, wishing I could move, wishing I could bring my sex up to him and make things happen faster. I’d never felt so desperate, so crazed. Sex before Ash had always been blah, mostly forgettable, slightly regrettable. It had never felt anything like this rush of a roller coaster ride, this wild, heady plunge straight into the unknown.