18. Liv
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LIV
T he good news is, I can technically get out of bed after all that. Unfortunately, there’s a six-foot-something gorgeous hunk spooning me so I don’t want to.
In his sleep, Callum’s all handsy, grabby, so exactly the same as when he’s awake. Except he looks younger. Less bossy. More…attainable, somehow. He’s still ridiculously bloody gorgeous, but for a little while I can pretend I’m not in bed with someone who’s twenty-something in line for the throne of our kingdom.
“I can feel you staring.”
Oh. So much for him sleeping.
“You stayed the night,” I say in wonder.
He grunts against my hair. “My neck may never recover.”
I chance a glance at his feet, which are hanging in the air. “My bed definitely isn’t Noble-sized.”
“If only the size were the only issue.” Callum sits up and rolls his neck, before dragging my body to his lap.
Sometime overnight, we both shed all our clothes, and there’s something incredibly intimate about sitting against him, bare, without a single layer of fabric between us. Especially while we’re not actually fucking.
“Can we talk about your pillow, though? What woman only has one? And a shitty one. And don’t get me started on the springs in that mattress. Is it a form of torture?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so fragile.”
“I’ll show you fragile.”
The amused, delighted threat is clear in his rumbly voice, and I expect to be gagging on cock within seconds, but Callum is far more evil. He starts to tickle me.
I honestly don’t remember ever being tickled. If anyone had asked me whether I was sensitive, I would probably have said no.
Lies. All lies.
I’m writhing, laughing uncontrollably, attempting to get away, but it’s Callum, and he doesn’t need handcuffs to overpower me.
“Please! Oh, Callum, please !”
“Nah. But beg me some more. I might change my mind.”
His fingers explore every crook that drives me into frenzied hysterics. Then all of a sudden, there’s pressure at my entrance and Callum drives into me from underneath, pushing through my tense walls, all the while never stopping his assault on my underarms, my knees, my damn feet! He grinds his hard cock into me, relentless fingers teasing me until I can barely breathe.
“Stop it! Please, Cal, stop!”
“Tell me you’re mine and I might.”
Relentless, exasperating goddamned jerk!
“I’m yours,” I whimper. “I’m yours. Please, st?—”
Stop. I was going to say stop. But his mouth crashes against mine, devouring my breath along with the last word. His hands leave my poor limbs to clasp the back of my neck, my waist, eagerly running his large palms over my skin, smooth and reverent.
Callum doesn’t tend to fuck me like this; taking his time, not racing to the finish line, all the while kissing me. I don’t know what to make of it. My hips move to meet his of their own volition, my back arching into it as I ride him. Suddenly, my insides are on fire and demanding more, and I don’t know how he got the signal, but Callum’s also grunting, lifting his hips to reach deeper, the head of his cock hitting a bundle of nerves inside me that has me screaming into his shoulders as my teeth bite down.
My orgasm comes in soft waves, not as explosive as some of the previous ones he so ruthlessly forced upon me, but comfortable, peaceful. It feels less like brutal, visceral, bestial coupling and more like…affection. Or something close to it, anyway.
Sex with Callum Noble is an addiction I don’t know how to stop. Not that it’s up to me. If I did attempt to prevent it, I’d still end up full of cum. Good thing I don’t seem to mind.
“I’m on the pill, by the way,” I tell him.
He’s never asked, which is highly irresponsible, but the way we’ve been fucking hasn’t left much room for reason.
“You are?” he replies, with a careless indifference. “That’s a shame.”
I snort. “Christ, you’re so ridiculous. How many bastards do you have running around?”
“That would be none. I always wrap it up unless I’m certain the woman’s on contraceptives, and clean.”
“You literally said it’s a shame I’m on the pill, weirdo.” I wrinkle my nose. “Is breeding your kink or something?”
“I’m not going to deny I do love going bare. But I wouldn’t want to impregnate anyone except my gorgeous little doll.” His mouth falls to my shoulder, kissing it.
“You don’t want to impregnate me, either, idiot.”
“Don’t I?” He chuckles. “You can’t deny it’d make things easier.”
“What?” That makes no sense whatsoever.
“You’re fighting me. You’re deliberately refusing to see that I want you bound.” His mouth moves from my shoulder to my neck. “Attached.” Now he’s at my ear, whispering, “Tethered to me.”
Callum draws back to look into my eyes.
“Knocking you up would have gotten that across. But as you took precautions, I’ll have to convince you another way.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’ll have you know that the Crown has tested my mental capacities and found me fit for duty, age eighteen,” Callum replies primly.
“Someone should fire whoever came to that conclusion. You don’t know me. You don’t want…whatever you just said.” I shake my head. “I’m a novelty. Different from the girls you usually see, so that’s why you’re having?—”
“If you say the word fun, I will have no choice but to resort to kidnapping,” Callum retorts.
His expressions tells me he is kidding. He seems highly entertained. Meanwhile, I’m actually losing my mind over here. Doesn’t he know how those words would affect me? How fucking devastated I’ll be when he tells me he was joking, or that he changed his mind?
“I’m considering it, anyway. A few months locked into a tower ought to persuade you.”
“Callum, I’m just trying to be realistic. We’re having fun. It’s great. But?—”
“Kidnapping it is.”
He stands, taking me with him, and carries me to the bathroom.
My tiny shower looks downright claustrophobic with him in it, but he doesn’t heed any of my protests as he lathers me with soap and proceeds to clean every inch of my skin.
I admit, I don’t protest much, especially when he gets to my tits.
But then, once we’re both dressed—me in denim shorts with fishnets and a band tee, him in yesterday’s suit—and out of doors, I realize he wasn’t kidding. He’s not letting go, hand firmly anchored around my waist.
“I have class!” I tell him in a whine as he all but drags me to the parking lot.
“Love, when I tell you I will do something, I will do it. My word isn’t worth much if I don’t. So you can get that cute ass in the passenger seat, or I can toss you on it. These are your choices.”
I glance behind my shoulder, to the elegant university’s main building, calculating the likelihood that I can get to it before he catches me.
The odds are not in my favor.
“What would we even do?” I’d like to think I’m not pouting. “Don’t you have work?”
“I’ll take a personal day, to show you the meaning of fuck around and find out.”