29
29
Callum
Isle of Skye Guidebook
In Scottish Gaelic folklore, the Northern Lights are known as Na Fir Chlis – “The nimble men”.
On the Isles you might hear them referred to as the “Mirrie Dancers”, for the amazing natural phenomenon appears to dance across the sky.
The best months to spot the Northern Lights on Skye are around the equinoxes: March, September and October.
“There it is, look—” Juniper gently shook my shoulder just as I started to nod off.
Blinking, I pushed onto an elbow.
“Is that—”
“Yep.”
The thin curtains billowed in the slight breeze and we both stared in wonder.
As if the late hour had thinned a veil between this world and the next.
An ethereal pathway suddenly winked across the sky.
Light branching off in a hundred different directions.
Bold greens and pinks and purples seemed to shimmer, so close Juniper reached out a hand, tracing the dazzling shapes as if to touch them.
“This is …” My voice was as embarrassingly wet as my eyes.
“For the first time in my life I have no words.”
“Me neither.” She sounded small.
Humbled.
“How did you know about this?”
“Ada has an Aurora Borealis app. She got an alert this afternoon.”
Skye had such little light pollution I’d been lucky enough to see them a few times before …
but never with another person.
The person.
After a minute Juniper pinched my chin, urging me to face her.
I couldn’t have dragged my eyes away for anyone else.
And when she kissed me, I groaned into it, like she’d reached into my chest and wrapped a fist around my heart.
I clasped her cheeks.
“Thank you for showing me this.”
“Anytime, Macabe.”
We stared at the light display for an age before I gave into the urge to touch her, divesting her of that thick fleece and pulling her into my lap, desperate to touch her in this moment.
Beneath this sky. Her T-shirt was next to go and I groaned in appreciation.
“Baby blue might be my favourite yet.”
Her nipples peaked through the scallop-edged lace, practically begging for my mouth.
“Good. Because I wore it for you.”
Fuck, sweetheart.
My hands fumbled, too eager as I lifted her breasts to my mouth, dragging a wet kiss over the perfect curves.
“Careful, harpy. If you keep being sweet to me, I might get used to it.”
She arched into the touch, urging my mouth, my tongue, lower, until it soaked the lace.
“ Good .” Holding my head to her chest, she writhed, her legging-covered centre riding the hardness in my jeans.
“You deserve a little sweetness.” Her arms circled my neck, a little clumsy and a little desperate.
My heart thundered.
I love this woman.
I love her in a way that makes me understand why people would so willingly die for it.
Fuck slow , an earthquake couldn’t have stopped me from watching her fall apart in my arms. “Touch yourself,” I rasped.
Fingers gripping her waist, I laid back against the cushions.
“Sit on my chest … Show me how you stroke your clit in the shower, imagining it’s me.”
“You’re certain?”
I couldn’t hold back my pained laugh.
“Yes, I’m fucking certain. We still aren’t having sex, but I want this … if you do?”
She nodded eagerly and I gave her room to kneel, holding out a hand to steady her as she tugged her leggings and underwear down her legs.
I removed my own shirt, my cock ready to tear through my fly by the time she straddled me.
The plaid pooled around her waist, and I tugged it back with shaking fingers, pressing her thighs open, staring at her, hot and bare against my stomach.
Fucking mine , the beast in my chest wanted to snarl .
“You’re drenched, sweetheart.” We were both breathing hard, our chests playing a game of call and answer.
“Have you been like this all night?”
She nodded.
And that beast roared again, promising to erase all memories of my brother from her mind until there was nothing left but me.
“Touch yourself … Fuck , Juniper, let me see you.”
My words seemed to wake her, lips switching from slackened to sinful in a single breath.
“In a minute.” She unclipped her bra, dragging the straps down her arms. I barely had time to take in the swells of those pretty tits before she kissed me.
A delicious little humming noise vibrated up her throat and she pushed the sound into my mouth with her tongue.
Her graceful hands curved over my shoulders and the action had me hissing as her nails dug in rather ungracefully.
It was hot and so fucking primal that I bucked beneath her.
“How are you so fucking perfect?” She was a dream …
better than any dream.
In the early days she’d become a paragon in my mind.
Beautiful, sarcastic but caustic.
The face of an angel and a tenderness for those she cherished and fuck , how I’d longed to be one of the select few.
The flesh and blood woman in my arms was real .
“Maybe I’m only perfect for you.” Her words, combined with the tight press of her against my cock, had me groaning, eyes squeezing and praying for a strength I didn’t possess.
“Fuck, sweetheart … Don’t move or I’m going to fucking blow.”
“I thought you wanted me to touch myself.” Her hand was there , her fingertips no more than a graze over sensitised flesh as she worked herself.
She moaned and I lifted my head, needing to see, even if it meant humiliating myself by blowing like a teenager.
I didn’t move, didn’t breathe as I watched her slip two fingers between us, positioning them so one touched her clit and her knuckles grazed my length every time they slid through her folds.
The other went to her breast, rolling and flicking.
“Fuck, sweetheart, fuck , that’s it, press them inside, pretend they’re mine.”
Moaning, her hips began to roll.
Unable to tear my gaze from the junction between her thighs, I moved with her, clutching her hips between desperate hands, spellbound as she rode me like the darkest kind of goddess.
“ Callum —”
I pushed to sit, holding her against my chest. “What do you need?”
Her eyes bounced between mine, as dark as world eaters edged with a panic I didn’t understand.
“Just … stay with me, please stay with me.”
“Take what you need. I’m not going anywhere.” I bit her ear and licked her jaw.
Nibbled on the proud little point of her chin and then kissed it.
Her tits got the full attention they deserved, dividing my attention between the two, sucking until they were swollen and glistening.
All the while she moved for the two of us.
“You going to say my name when you come, Juniper?”
She nodded frantically and I knew I wouldn’t last long.
I counted to ten in my head.
I made it to nine. “Now, Juniper.” I batted her hand away, dragging it around my neck, and replaced it with my own, sliding my finger over her slick clit like I owned it.
“Dig those claws in and come for me.” My body ached as I held back my own release, thighs burning, every inch of me sticky with sweat.
Juniper’s lashes lifted as her nails dug into my back, tugging me flush against her until I felt the imprint of those gold bars on my chest, sighing my name exactly the way I dreamed it.
And just when I thought I couldn’t ask for anything more …
she screamed it, trembling in my arms, every perfect line of her taut with pleasure.
My pleasure.
I owned it now.
My name on her lips was the final shove and I went off like a fucking gunshot, bucking wildly through every rendering pull.
I love you.
I love you.
I silently repeated the word with my every groan into her throat.
This woman had broken me a long, long time ago.
Hairline fractures that could be patched and melded.
Covered with grins and charm until I resembled something semi-functional.
But now … she’d completely and utterly ruined me.
Ignoring the cum cooling in my boxers, my groans turned to kisses.
“That was perfect. You’re perfect.” I said.
My hands unlatched from her hips, lacing into her hair to hold her to me.
“You own me, sweetheart. Entirely.”
She brushed a stray curl away from my sweaty forehead.
“You might own me a little bit too.”