Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
EVIE
I wake up to Callum wrapped around me. And in this moment, I’m content. Happy. If the world stopped turning right now, things frozen in time, I would be good right here. I run my hand over his roped forearm, sliding my fingers through his where they’re draped over my stomach.
Rolling over, I trace the angles of his face and the brush of his beard and wait for his blue eyes to open and find me looking, longing.
Maybe we shouldn’t have let things go this far?
How could this be wrong? I mean, I almost have a full manuscript done.
I’ve written more words in the last nine months than I have in six whole years.
Deciding that Callum can only be a good thing, I press a kiss to his jaw.
A low, raw noise rumbles from his chest as I rise to all fours, planting kiss after kiss over his face and down his neck as my lips meander over his shoulder.
This man is perfect .
With only the sheet lying over the lower half of his body, he puts even the most incredible book boyfriend to shame.
I straddle his waist, pressing my palms into the pillow on either side of his head. Nudging his jaw with my nose, I whisper, “Wake up, sweet man.”
A rough grip finds my rib cage. He moves—so fast. My back hits the mattress.
Now, blue eyes burn into mine. A lazy smile grows over his face. “I am anything but sweet, baby girl,” he growls. Calloused hands pin my palms above my head.
“You keep thinking that.” I smile around the words.
“Guess I’ll have to show you.”
“How?” I breathe.
His eyes darken as my wrists are released. Hovering over me, he plucks up my hard nipple between his teeth. Heat and wetness sink to my center. He sucks on the peak, hard. My back arches from the bed, and the air in my lungs expels on a breathy huff.
Cal growls, low and soft. His gaze flickers over my bare body. Only my soaked panties cover me. Teeth skate over my ribs before hot, wet, messy kisses drop onto my skin. He moves back even further, his hands gripping my hips in a bruising hold. I wriggle in his grasp.
I didn’t think this through.
Shou—
One hand slides down, ripping at my panties.
Shouldn’t hav?—
The flimsy fabric tears.
“Don’t cover up what’s mine.” The words are almost a snarl.
Fuck.
Shouldn’t have poked the bear. The very burly, grumpy, gorgeous bear...
My body burns with every feral move he makes, every grunt and growl leaving this intoxicating man. My panties give way with a final tug and crumple to the mattress by his side. Deft fingers spread my thighs wide. One finger sweeps through my wet center.
It’s all I can do to stare at him, my breaths burning my lungs.
“This pretty little cunt, dripping fucking wet, is all mine.”
A strangled whimper slips past my lips.
“Say it, Eve.”
Eve.
Not Evie.
No baby girl.
No Scottish endearments anywhere to be found.
“I—my . . .”
“Say it,” he growls, his thumb brushing my clit.
I cry out, gripping the sheet with both fists.
“I’m yours.”
“Which part?”
What?
My face twists, and I gasp around my indignation.
He sweeps another digit through my center. The part of me that wants him badly overrides any thread of self-respect or dignity left in this oxygen-starved brain of mine.
“My pussy is yours,” I finally grind out.
My need flares hotter.
“Not enough. Keep going.”
My mouth parts. I grapple for air.
“My body is yours.”
“More.”
“M-my mind, yours.”
Every inch of me trembles.
His face turns pained. “Still not enough.” His chest heaves, its manic rhythm matching my own.
“Hear—” I choke around a sob as tears burn behind my eyes. “My heart, it’s not my own.”
“Whose is it, mo ghràdh?”
Ghràdh. I know that one . . .
Love.
Mo ghràdh . . . My love.
The air in my lungs stalls out.
Cal’s grip around my hips turns harsh, and I whisper. “Yours.”
His jaw feathers, and I swear he stops breathing.
The overwhelming urge to scramble to my knees and wrap my body around his blooms in an ache so deep. But his hold doesn’t waiver.
I try to move, and he shakes his head.
That line we weren’t supposed to cross is so far in our rearview mirror I can barely see it. It may as well be invisible. Nonexistent.
Poof.
Gone.
“Cal,” I utter.
He makes a low, raw noise before clearing his throat. I brush my fingers over his knuckles, almost white over my hip now.
He looks like he needs a restart.
It’s like his heart was just defibrillated. Brought back to life. And he doesn’t know what to do with it. Like it sits, beating messily in his palm.
I want to take it, carefully, with gentle hands to stow it away somewhere safe. I want to make sure that look, the one that says he can’t believe someone could love him back, never crosses his gorgeous face ever again. Ever.
He looks like he needs someone to throw him a life preserver. So, to save him, I whisper, “Not sweet, remember.”
The look of shock fades a little and his eyes clear before they darken. With a single sweep of his fingers, he reclaims control. I tremble, desperate for his touch. His fingers. His mouth. Lips. Teeth.
All of him.
In a swift movement, he hauls my hips up to his waist. I slip off the pillow, hair dragging behind me. My breasts bounce, sending his gaze feral. He rocks back on his heels, his hands sliding under my ass. My eyes flutter shut the second his warm mouth finds my clit.
If this is his not sweet, I’ll take his sour any day.
Maybe even the bitter parts.
His tongue works over my apex. Every strong, purposeful stroke has me climbing higher and higher. My head tilts back, lips parted. I arch from the bed, lost in this ecstasy he brings me.
And this man thinks he’s not sweet . . .
He’s fire.
He’s a force of nature.
He’s everything .
My legs tremble uncontrollably, and I try and fail to tighten them around his waist. His tongue runs through my wet center. I whimper, so close to falling apart.
The contact breaks.
The hell?
I snap my eyes open, pinning them on his with a burning gaze topped with a confused frown.
“Still think I’m sweet, baby girl?”
“Please . . . don’t stop.”
His face scrunches with something I can’t place. “You want more. I want to take it all .”
I know he’s not talking about this. Just him and me on this bed. For a fleeting moment, I can envision a life here. Days spent in the sun. Tangled in these sheets. Wrapped, safe and warm, in the arms that have held me for months, knowing all too well their hold was temporary.
“We can’t. I promised . . .” The words fade.
He tenses.
“Good.”
Good? How is letting this fade out of existence good?
His teeth find my clit. I jolt at the sudden contact, struggling between my never-ending need for him and the back-and-forth of our conversation. The promise I made conflicts with the position I’ve put my own damn heart in.
Ours in.
Could I be happy here for the long haul?
Without my family. Without Allie. The life I’ve built in the city...
Warmth tugs on my aching center, and I arch from the bed. Sweat trickles between my breasts, my shoulders digging into the mattress.
I’m burning up. Under the touch of Callum, under the heaviness of my impending departure.
I’m leaving.
He will stay here. Alone.
My chest caves in on itself.
A hand lands on my elevated ass. The sting burns. I stifle a whimper, moving my gaze to meet blue eyes.
Those darkened blues have me wriggling under their scrutiny.
“Back here,” Cal growls.
I must have checked out, lost in my thoughts.
“Do that again, baby girl, and I’ll force your attention to where I want it.”
I swallow, whispering, “Okay.”
He raises an eyebrow before diving back down. His tongue plunges inside me, hands spreading me so wide, the pounding ache in my clit ratchets to insanity. Driving me senseless.
“Oh god, please. Cal . . .”
He runs his tongue through my center before suckling, licking, and tugging at my throbbing center with his teeth.
Fire spirals low in my belly. The telltale feeling of splintering light ascending into my soul starts. I roll my hips, wanting him closer.
Two fingers slide into me.
I can’t breathe.
Bucking against him as he licks, sucks, and pumps into me, edging me closer and closer to oblivion.
“Cal,” I pant. “Don’t stop.”
The tight grip on my hip fades, and with one long, slow suck on my clit he does exactly that.
He stops.
“No... please.” The begging falls out of me so easily. “Cal, please.”
My need glistens on his face. His beard is painted with it. On all fours, he crawls over me. As his gaze levels me, his mouth claims me.
I taste my need for him. It’s almost torture, driving me past my breaking point. I break the kiss and bite down on his lip. Hard.
Copper slides over my tongue.
“Fuck,” he rasps. He swipes at his mouth, and a crimson streak covers the back of his hand. “Vicious little thing. Not getting what you want does this to you?”
“Only with you.”
A low grunt slips through a smirk as he brushes his knuckles over my cheek and across my jaw. “Mine, remember?”
A rough hand closes over my throat. The heartbeat in my clit blooms back to life.
I buck on the bed, my need like gasoline tossed onto a fire.
I grapple for purchase on his face. Before I can get a hold, he flips me over, pushing my shoulders into the bed.
One hand tugs my ass toward him as he fists my hair with the other.
Warm breath tickles my ear. “There is nothing sweet about me when it comes to you. I would tear the fucking world apart for you, Evie.”
His legs nudge my thighs wide.
I swallow around the emotion that’s claimed my airway. His tip grazes my entrance. I cant my hips upward. So needy. So desperate for us to be one. For his body to claim mine. Taking what he wants, giving what I need.
A hand slides over my ribs, a thumb caressing the underside of my breast. My head is tugged back when that hand makes its way up to my cheek and his thumb snags on the side of my mouth. I turn my head, sucking it.
He slams into me. When he’s seated fully, he hesitates.
I turn my head, looking back. His finger falls from my mouth as it opens.
“Take me, then,” I hiss.
I’m so wound up, every inch he takes, every thrust I am sure will tip me over the edge. Rolling my hips, I try to take him deeper. To move. Something.
With a sharp tug on my hair and a hand under one arm, I’m pulled to my knees. “So needy, baby girl.”
My head falls back onto his shoulder, and his hand in my hair loosens.
“You make me that way.”
With a feral groan, he thunders into me.
Slick need coats my inner thighs, running down my skin. Each powerful thrust is perfect. Delicious.
I move a hand, letting my fingers fall over my clit.
The bed rocks, creaking as it shunts over the floor, the headboard hitting the wall. The slightest brush of my fingers over that sensitive nub between my legs, and I’m trembling.
“No,” Cal growls, his hands finding mine. He raises them over my head, holding my wrists with one hand, the other returning to my hip.
He thunders into me. His hot breath hits my neck. Every inch of me is a lit fuse. Sweat trickles down my stomach, rolling down my spine. A hot tongue licks the bead from my neck, and I shudder. The flicker of something sublime explodes in my center and I whimper. Breathlessly, I cry out.
“Don’t you dare, Evie.”
I lean back into him and his movements slow.
With a brief kiss to my neck, he whispers something I don’t understand.
“ Beannachd leat, a nighean milis .”
He’s turning me around before the next heartbeat. I fall back onto the bed. Gripping his cock, he pumps his release over my stomach. The low rumble seeping through his parted lips as his eyes burn right through me takes the tentative breath from my lungs.
Something is off. A tiny crack in our happiness facade. The one we have carefully curated, despite the unspoken rule we wouldn’t be something meaningful to the other. Ships in the night that even the Fresnel above us couldn’t find.
“No, Cal . . .”
His face curls with something painful and involuntary. He’s off the bed a second later.
I lie, watching him walk to the bathroom and fail to draw a useful lungful.
Never have I ever been so desperate or so floored by a silent plea. It screams volumes.
He’s already pulling away.
And it’s my fault.