Read Online Resisting Destiny: Sullivan Brother's Book 3 - Cayson's Story (Resisting Love - Sullivan Brothers) by Chanta Rand - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chanta Rand
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the bar to his house, she had to repeatedly slap his hands away as he attempted to fondle her thighs. She’d never seen him this wasted. When they walked through the front door, he was unsteady on his feet, so she let him lean on her shoulder as she helped him to his bedroom.
God! All the se muscles are heavy!
He sang loudly as they walked. Something about an Irishman who lost his heart to a bonnie lass in Devonshire. Wherever the hell that was.
“Ssh!” Destiny admonished. “You’re gonna wake the dead with all that racket.”
He flopped backwards onto a king-sized sleigh bed. His long legs hung off the side of the mattress. This was her first time in his bedroom. It was tastefully decorated in black. Like the rest of the house, colorful artwork and masks adorned the walls. The only other furniture besides the huge bed was a sleek, black dresser with nickel hardware, two matching night stands, and a man’s valet stand with a gray suit jacket hanging from it. An abstract red and white rug covered most of the wood floor. The dark curtains of his large window were drawn, and she imagined with all the natural light, he had little use for the three lamps that now lit the room.
The faint smell of his cologne lingered in the air like a pleasant memory. Just beyond the far wall, she saw the door to his master bathroom. Thinking of him in the shower lathering his body with soap sent a wicked thrill of excitement through her. She glanced at Cayson, hoping he couldn’t read her expression, but he lay with eyes closed and arms outstretched.
She shook her head. The least she could do was remove his shoes and tie. She didn’t want him to fall asleep fully dressed. She untied his laces and tugged on the heels of his black wingtips. They looked great with the pinstriped suit he’d worn earlier. She caressed the long lines of his feet, deciding to leave his silk socks on. Without them, his toes might get cold. When she reached up to loosen the fat knot of his tie, he grabbed her wrists. She pulled back in surprise, but he held her tight. His eyes flickered open and feasted on her.
“ God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Goosebumps puckered on her skin. His compliments always buoyed her ego, but she had to remember who she was dealing with. Cayson was a slick-tongued lawyer. He had a way with words. “Everybody looks beautiful when you’re wasted,” she answered.
“I’m not too drunk to realize how beautiful you are. Or how much I want you.”
The look of longing in his eyes was practically her undoing. He held her gaze captive, and she was lost in the dark depths, wondering how deep his passions flowed. He tug ged on her wrists, pulling her on top of him. When he brushed her collarbone with his lips, she closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his hot mouth on her skin.
There was no hiding it–she was as hungry for him as he was for her. Heat spiraled through the pit of her belly and nested between her legs. If she put her hands between her thighs right now, she’d likely burn her fingers!
Cayson coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. She tasted the spicy sweetness of bourbon. She suckled, pulling and stroking his tongue. She couldn’t get enough of him. His hands slid down her back and palmed her ass, his long fingers squeezing and kneading. She moaned against his mouth.
Lord! He feels so good!
When his hips grinded against hers, white-hot sparks of pleasure shot through her. If he kept this up, he would turn her to putty in seconds. Her experience with men was limited. How could she ever hope to handle such a skilled lover? On the other hand, there was so much he could teach her if she gave herself fully to him. But was she ready?
Self-doubt kicked in. She dragged her mouth from his, and used his body as leverage to push herself away. “No,” she shook her head. “I can’t just…give myself. I don’t…think…”
“No woman has ever left my bed unsatisfied,” he
God! All the se muscles are heavy!
He sang loudly as they walked. Something about an Irishman who lost his heart to a bonnie lass in Devonshire. Wherever the hell that was.
“Ssh!” Destiny admonished. “You’re gonna wake the dead with all that racket.”
He flopped backwards onto a king-sized sleigh bed. His long legs hung off the side of the mattress. This was her first time in his bedroom. It was tastefully decorated in black. Like the rest of the house, colorful artwork and masks adorned the walls. The only other furniture besides the huge bed was a sleek, black dresser with nickel hardware, two matching night stands, and a man’s valet stand with a gray suit jacket hanging from it. An abstract red and white rug covered most of the wood floor. The dark curtains of his large window were drawn, and she imagined with all the natural light, he had little use for the three lamps that now lit the room.
The faint smell of his cologne lingered in the air like a pleasant memory. Just beyond the far wall, she saw the door to his master bathroom. Thinking of him in the shower lathering his body with soap sent a wicked thrill of excitement through her. She glanced at Cayson, hoping he couldn’t read her expression, but he lay with eyes closed and arms outstretched.
She shook her head. The least she could do was remove his shoes and tie. She didn’t want him to fall asleep fully dressed. She untied his laces and tugged on the heels of his black wingtips. They looked great with the pinstriped suit he’d worn earlier. She caressed the long lines of his feet, deciding to leave his silk socks on. Without them, his toes might get cold. When she reached up to loosen the fat knot of his tie, he grabbed her wrists. She pulled back in surprise, but he held her tight. His eyes flickered open and feasted on her.
“ God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Goosebumps puckered on her skin. His compliments always buoyed her ego, but she had to remember who she was dealing with. Cayson was a slick-tongued lawyer. He had a way with words. “Everybody looks beautiful when you’re wasted,” she answered.
“I’m not too drunk to realize how beautiful you are. Or how much I want you.”
The look of longing in his eyes was practically her undoing. He held her gaze captive, and she was lost in the dark depths, wondering how deep his passions flowed. He tug ged on her wrists, pulling her on top of him. When he brushed her collarbone with his lips, she closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his hot mouth on her skin.
There was no hiding it–she was as hungry for him as he was for her. Heat spiraled through the pit of her belly and nested between her legs. If she put her hands between her thighs right now, she’d likely burn her fingers!
Cayson coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. She tasted the spicy sweetness of bourbon. She suckled, pulling and stroking his tongue. She couldn’t get enough of him. His hands slid down her back and palmed her ass, his long fingers squeezing and kneading. She moaned against his mouth.
Lord! He feels so good!
When his hips grinded against hers, white-hot sparks of pleasure shot through her. If he kept this up, he would turn her to putty in seconds. Her experience with men was limited. How could she ever hope to handle such a skilled lover? On the other hand, there was so much he could teach her if she gave herself fully to him. But was she ready?
Self-doubt kicked in. She dragged her mouth from his, and used his body as leverage to push herself away. “No,” she shook her head. “I can’t just…give myself. I don’t…think…”
“No woman has ever left my bed unsatisfied,” he
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