Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Beg For It 1) - Page 35

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And now it was happening. She’d come down to my cabin late at night. While Layla was sucking my dick.

The thing was, Kara wasn’t moving. And she could see it all, the whole nasty, hardcore scene. I sat buck naked on the couch, my thighs spread. Layla kneeled before me, moaning as her head worked up and down along on my giant, slick cock. And Kara was watching it all. Her gaze fixed on it, the way Layla worked, how I cupped my hand on the back of her head as she sucked.

Kara was turned on. I could see it in the flush on her cheeks, the tightening of the sweet buds of her nipples, the slight glaze in her eyes. She liked what she saw. It burned her up. Holy shit.

Eyes locked hot on Kara, I wrapped my hand around Layla’s head and pushed her down on my hard shaft.

“Suck it,” I ordered. Kara’s perfect pink lips parted in response, as if she were picturing doing it. I nearly came right then from the sight of it, my prick swelling even bigger, my balls tightening with come.

“Yes, baby,” I murmured, speaking directly to Kara. She hadn’t looked up into my eyes yet, she was too fixated on my cock. Exactly where I wanted her, there down between my legs, her mouth on me exactly like that. Layla moaned and I could feel the vibrations deep. But that wasn’t what brought me to the edge. It was Kara. A shudder ran through her body and I could feel her heat, her need, her arousal.

There was no way I could hold on any longer. My balls ached, filled and needing to explode. I groaned.

Kara looked up, straight into my eyes. I locked right onto her. It was her I spoke to, urgent and heavy, when I growled, “I’m going to come.”

I shot out like a gushing fountain. I heard Layla gagging, struggling to take in all of my hot load. It felt so intense, pumping out of me, knowing Kara was watching.

By the time I opened my eyes she was gone. Nothing but an empty doorway.

But I’d heard her. Before she’d left, right after I’d told her I was going to come, she’d moaned. It was a soft moan, creamy, thick and needy. If I only knew one thing, it was that I was going to make her moan like that again. Soon.

I kicked Layla out of there fast. She didn’t care, she’d gotten what she came for. I showered, threw on a pair of jeans and paced around the cabin for what had to be a couple of hours. I wanted to go after Kara, wanted to pound up the steps of the house, rip off those shorts of hers and plunge my fingers into her wet, needy pussy. I wanted to feel her dripping juices, touch her, taste her, stroke her slick little clit until she called out my name, begged me, and came all over me again and again.

But I didn’t. Harlan was up there, too, after all. He wouldn’t exactly be happy about me ravaging his baby girl. And Kara had to be freaking out. A girl like that, innocent and naive, I’d bet money that she’d never seen anything like that before. She’d better not have done anything like that before, I’d cut Bruce’s balls off. But my gut told me no, she’d never gone there, done that. In the moment, in my doorway, she’d gotten caught up in it. But now I bet she was up in her room having a fit. How could she have stayed and watched?! How could I have caught her?!

After this, she’d probably work even harder to avoid me. And she was right, she should. I was nothing but trouble. I was everything her father had ever warned her about and more. But after tonight, that trouble was coming for her.


A couple of days later I was standing outside of the hardware store downtown, if you could call one street with about 50 yards of sidewalk and a couple of dusty old stores a downtown. I’d come there to buy an axe and then one of those guys as old as the hills who liked to talk was doing just that, telling me a story about something that had happened way back when. I wasn’t in a rush so I stood there. Yes, I was generally an asshole, but I liked to think I picked my moments.

Who should I see strolling down the sidewalk toward me but Kara with her corn-fed quarterback boyfriend? Bryce, Brian, whatever the hell you wanted to call him, he was an idiot. They walked together, the douchebag with a goddamned backpack slung over one shoulder. Like he was practicing to be in college. He was such a tool. I could see him now on the main quad, pledging a fraternity, popping his collar at some preppy kegger. If he even knew how to kiss a girl right I’d eat my shirt.

Kara chattered away like a hummingbird, fresh and rosy. She wore a flippy pink skirt that ended mid-thigh. Did she have any idea what those kind of skirts did to a man? Sometimes I thought she did, other times I guessed she was as naïve as a newborn foal. How many guys had tried to get a peek up that skirt today? It made me pissed off just thinking about it.

If she were mine, I’d get her alone and have her wear just that skirt, no panties. Or something even shorter with the hemline barely kissing the bottom edge of her luscious ass. I’d make her strut around for me. In heels. I shifted my stance, my cock starting to press against the zipper of my jeans. She wasn’t mine, I reminded myself. Not mine, not now, not ever.

Kara looked up and saw me. She looked away real quick, like I embarrassed her. I knew I should look away but the sadist in me kept on watching. The man next to me kept on jawing away.

As they walked past, football boy glanced at me. I narrowed my eyes. So I could see, he pulled Kara in close and gave her a kiss, marking her. Like she was his.

My hand gripped the axe I was holding so hard my knuckles went white. It probably wasn’t such a good idea to be holding an axe right then. I’d never been a violent man. I’d seen too much of it growing up to have it make me anything but sick. I got my rush out of pussy, not cracking skulls. But if anything were to push me over the edge, it would be that assclown with his arm wrapped tight around Kara.

I nodded my good-bye to the old-timer. He kept right on talking. Someone else would come along soon and listen. I climbed in my truck and couldn’t help but sit there for a second, watching them head over to his ride. Of course he drove a clean, shiny new sedan and not a dusty old truck. A goddamned Lexus. Such a pussy.

But even I had to admit, she fit with him. Both young and blond and clean-cut. Harlan loved him. I could see why. A college man, the mayor’s son. Future pillar of the community and all that.

I was sure quarterback boy liked Kara for the same reason. She was a puzzle piece that fit into his picture, a blonde cheerleader to drape on his arm. But I bet he didn’t even know her. Not really. He didn’t see every day how good she took care of her father, how she always helped everyone out without ever being asked. I knew how she sang to herself when she got real happy busy in the kitchen with the windows wide open, and how every now and then she’d let herself sit out on the porch swing and gaze at the sunset. She’d grown up without a mom and still greeted every day like a blinding ray of sunshine.

The hulking corn-fed dumbass drove off with Kara in his car. I was no nuclear physicist, but still, I bet that kid couldn’t find Kara’s g-spot with a map and a compass. I hated that he got to try.


A few days later, it rained. It took me by surprise. I’d been working late, past seven o’clock mending a fence, and I almost got caught in it. I ducked into the barn just in time.

A few minutes later, Kara ducked in, too. She stood there in the dark, drenched to the bone, watching the storm out the window. All hell was breaking loose outside. I wondered if it was about to happen inside, too.

She didn’t realize I was there, standing in the shadows. I knew I could stay in the darkness and wait it out. A summer squall like that, no looming clouds or warning claps of thunder, it was bound to pass quick. But so

me chances were too good to pass up. I took a step toward her.

I didn’t go in for grand, romantic emotions, the kind you’d find on a box of chocolates or a card from the drug store. They struck me as corny at best, straight-out bullshit when you were honest about it. But seeing Kara standing there radiant, exhilarated from the storm, her eyes shining, her hair slicked back from the rain. She took my breath away.

I took another step forward into the dim light filtering through the window. “Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”

She turned toward me with a gasp. She hadn’t known I was there. I should have left well enough alone, I knew that. But then she brought a hand up to her heaving chest and I realized that her shirt was plastered to her chest. Soaked through to the skin and completely see-through, her full, lush breasts were bared entirely to me.

“You’re all wet.” I drew closer. I could smell her there in the darkness, so sweet like fresh-picked strawberries, plus something more female, intimate, drawing me closer. She started to shiver.

“You cold?” I whispered, just us, alone, in the dark. She bit her lip and nodded yes.

A good excuse to touch her. I brought my hand to her shoulder, so soft like silk. Reverent and gentle, I worshipped the feel of her shivering, smooth skin under my rough heat. Her breathing started coming faster, shallow.

With one finger, just one, holding back with every ounce of strength I possessed, I traced a line across her shoulder up over to the strap of her tank top. It was a skimpy one, the kind of thing she typically pranced around in, driving me wild. Usually, I had to turn away and force myself not to look. Not now, though. Now, I could touch.

It felt so flimsy in my grasp. I knew I could tear it right off of her.

“What are you wearing?” I asked, my voice harsh and strained. She quivered slightly under my attentions, nervous and shy. So inexperienced. But I could tell she was aroused. Her nipples stood out, pebbled, firm, pushing against the soaking wet t-shirt.

Tags: Callie Harper Beg For It Erotic
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