Unleashed #4 (16 page)

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.

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 and 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.

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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

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?

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 through 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.