Chapter 22
Callum
She swipes her thumb over my bottom lip as she begins to move, her hips rolling slowly, rocking over me.
I’ve dreamed of what it would be like to be buried inside her more times than I could count. Somehow the reality is better than anything I could have ever imagined.
She braces her hands on my chest. I run my hands up the soft skin of her arms, slipping them down to cup her breasts, watching her breath catch as my fingers pluck and pinch her nipples.
Her head falls back as she begins to thrust harder, taking me deeper. “God, Callum. It’s never…I’ve never…” Her words trail off, ending on a gasp as my thumb slips in between our bodies, stroking her swollen clit.
Her fingers dig into the skin of my chest, and I hope her nails leave a mark. I hope there is some kind of physical reminder so when I wake up in the morning and wonder if it was all a dream, I know it actually happened.
Cate claimed to want me by her side, that we could face whatever is to come together.
But I know that standing next to me as I do what needs to be done is no place for her.
I know that once she knows what I have to do, she won’t want to see me again.
I know, even as I experience the greatest pleasure I have ever known, that this will be the only time she invites me to her bed.
And so I grip her hips, stroking into her until I feel her walls tighten around me, until she calls out my name, until the force of her orgasm leaves her breathless and boneless.
I flip her over, smooth the hair from her face. Kiss her slowly, my tongue dancing with hers. I want to take my time, make this sacred moment last for as long as possible, but my body has other plans.
Cate’s heels dig into my lower back, pressing me closer and deeper, and the familiar tightening grips my lower belly. I pull away from the kiss as I thrust, my heart pounding with a matching intensity. I want to see her when I come.
She reaches up, cupping my cheek in her hand, in a move so tender it’s almost out of sync with my frantic thrusting. Our eyes meet and my chest caves in as I explode inside her, as she cries out again, as she presses me even deeper, her hips rocking up to meet mine.
There doesn’t seem to be an end as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers, and I don’t dream of denying her.
She finally releases her grip on my lower body, her legs flopping on the bed. I pull out of her slowly, begrudgingly. I think I would bury myself inside her forever if she let me.
Her lips reach for mine and I give in to the kiss. It’s the single best kiss of my life, and yet I can’t help but feel like it was a mistake to come here.
I wanted her to hear it from me first, the plan and what I intend to do.
But then she had to go and heal my wounds and examine my bruises with a look of worry in her eyes.
It was the look of someone who cares, and I couldn’t help but let myself hope that she somehow might care about me.
Might have missed me as much as I’ve missed her.
Not just the inexplicable chemistry we share physically, but our conversations and the way she somehow makes me feel totally and completely at ease with myself.
There is something greater here between us, something I cannot name or explain, but something that should be unbreakable. If we were anyone but who we are.
I stay perched over her, not wanting to leave this fragile bubble of peace we’ve created in her bed. I know that once I break away from it, it will signal the end for us. Just the thought feels like my heart has been ripped from my chest.
“Callum.” Her hand returns to my face, tilting my head so our gazes meet.
“Not yet,” I mutter, pressing my lips to hers in hope that I can delay the inevitable.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to tell you.”
I drag my lips down to her jaw, nibbling along the line of her neck. “I know it means we have to start thinking again, and I’m not ready yet.”
She places her hands flat on my chest, not pushing me away, but coming close enough.
I flop over onto my side, resting my head on my hand so I can still stare down at her.
She mirrors my position, once again forcing my eyes to her face. “I had a talk. With Harold.”
“Oh.” I shift my hips, subtly putting a few more inches of space between us. “Did he tell you what I said?”
Her brow furrows. “No. He reminded me that I need to trust him. That we’re family and he’s always taken care of me.”
I slide farther toward the edge of the mattress, but Cate grabs my wrist, holding me in place.
“Will you just listen to me, please?”
I sit up, turning my back to her. “I know what you’re going to say, what you’re going to ask of me, and I don’t blame you, Caterine, truly I don’t. But I don’t want to taint what just happened here, color my one memory of us, with the knowledge that I have to disappoint you. Again.”
“Hey.” The bed shifts and then she’s standing in front of me.
Still naked, and still the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“First of all, you have never disappointed me.” She wiggles her way to stand between my thighs.
“Second of all, who says there is only going to be one memory of us?” She places a soft kiss on my lips.
“And third of all, if you would just shut up for a second, you might not hate what I have to say.”
I raise my eyebrows. “My apologies, my lady.”
She takes my face in both of her hands. “I know what we have to do, Cal. I know I need to get my sister back. And I know you have to kill him.” She bites her lip and a sheen of wetness springs up in her amber-colored eyes.
“Harold begged me to trust him, and I want to, really I do, but how can I after everything that’s happened? ”
I soothe her bitten lip with my thumb and give her the space she needs to continue.
“Lady M has taken my sister, taken your father’s life. And Harold has gone along with her, every step of the way. We can’t let them get away with it, no matter what his excuse is. He may have once been the only man I ever trusted, but now…” She sniffles, digging her fists into her eyes.
I want nothing more than to hear the end of her sentence, to think that I might be the man she can trust now. But I know that’s not the case.
“There’s a part of me that thinks Harold wants it this way.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
She shakes her head, as if needing to clear some vision from her mind.
“I think there might be a small part of him that realizes he made a mistake, marrying Lady M, giving her access to Andra and the rest of us here at the club. I want to believe he has some regrets for what he’s done, and what he’s allowed her to do. ”
I don’t know that I believe that, not after Harold MacVeigh has been keeping Cate prisoner here, but I don’t want to steal this last bit of hope from her. I slide my arm around her lower back, pulling her closer into my embrace. “Cate, do you know where MacVeigh is right now?”
She nods, her teeth once again digging into her plush lower lip.
“Will you tell me?”
Her lips purse, but she nods again.
A sigh of relief trickles out of me. I tug her down onto my lap, burying my face in her neck.
“There’s more,” she whispers.
I put just enough space between us so I can see her eyes.
“Andra had a vision.” She sucks in a long breath, the internal struggle written all over her face. It’s a stark difference from the Cate who so easily hid her emotions when we first met, who masked every one of her feelings.
“What kind of vision, Cate?” I stroke my hand over her bare back, hoping the motion soothes the torment she is so clearly experiencing.
“It’s not much, and it didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but now I think I know what it means.”
I try to tamp down the excitement I can feel rising in my chest. If Andra had a vision, that means there’s a way we can actually do this.
Not long ago I never would have trusted the word of a Gifted, let alone a so-called vision from one, but here I am about to put my faith in not one Gifted, but two.
“What kind of vision, Cate?” I repeat.
She looks at me, her whisky eyes wide. “Trees.”