Chapter 28
Lucy
We stumble like drunks toward the bedroom, our bodies knotted together in a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongues.
I anchor myself to Callum’s shirt to stop the storm from sweeping me away. The lust spiraling through me wars with the fear of being close, being vulnerable.
I’m lost at sea, hoping for a boat to come to my rescue.
Maybe that boat is Callum.
His hands roam my body, his long, thick fingers slipping beneath fabric to find my warm skin. They pause at the bottom of my bralette. “Is this okay?”
I’m so hot that I can only manage a nod before his fingertips push under it, undoing me one rough squeeze at a time.
He fits both my breasts into his hands, his fingers stroking, teasing.
And he keeps going. “You all right?”
When I nod, his hold tightens just enough, drawing a gasp from my lips.
His hands slide down my torso, my hips, and he palms my ass with the barest of brushes. “Can I touch you here?”
“Yes.” My voice is a breathy whisper. “Please.”
Before every step, every move, he asks me first. Stops for consent.
The simple act might not mean much to some, but to me, it’s everything.
My head whirls, dizzy from the desire and unease spinning through my heart. The last time someone touched me before Callum, I wanted to die. The buzz of unwelcome hands against my skin itched and stung.
But here, with this disastrously dangerous man, my body aches with desire and arches for more. When he pauses to meet my gaze, to check in, my entire being melts in a way I can’t understand.
Maybe I don’t need to.
“Lucy.” He squeezes the back of my neck, a sensation I feel all the way down to my clit.
I sigh against his lips, my voice gone.
“I want to touch you there.” He nips at my lip while his hand glides down my stomach. “May I?”
Eager anticipation and self-conscious excitement go off like fireworks in my chest. No one’s ever asked to touch me. I’ve never had so much control over a sexual encounter.
Thinking about that saddens me too much, so I pull back to stare into his hungry, lust-filled eyes. “Yes.”
That’s all the encouragement Callum requires. When his hand slips into the front of my slacks, I gasp, shivering. He rubs his hand over the silk of my underwear, forward and back, like he’s measuring the smooth curve of my sex. If he keeps this up, he’s going to find out how wet I am.
The slow touch sparks lightning through every part of me. His hand, hot and firm, leaves me gasping, panting, squirming. My toes curl against the carpet.
I can’t breathe. Can barely think. I wonder, distantly, why I’m okay with him touching me like this. Why I’m not shaking off the nausea but instead shuddering through pleasing little embers of heat.
Why his eyes—hot and glowing—fill my stomach with flutters too strong to be butterflies.
Viktor’s touch left me tainted, repulsed by others, but Callum—his hands, his gaze—reminds me of how good this can be.
How much I yearn to be cherished. Wanted.
Callum keeps rubbing, gentle and controlled, pressing harder with each pass. Readying me for what comes next. Heat invades me from all sides, dragging me deeper into this intoxicating lust.
Jesus, I didn’t think I’d ever have this again.
I want Callum to feel the way I do. Electrified. Crazy. Horny as hell.
My fingers fumble over the buttons of his shirt with trembling urgency, pushing under fabric until my fingertips connect with his skin—
He grabs my wrists.
Ice cracks through my limbs. Did I do something wrong?
“Not yet.” His voice roughens with need. “Right now, I just want to make you feel good. Is that all right?”
Oh. “It’s more than all right—”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Callum’s got me by the waist, lifting me with a growl in his throat. He closes the remaining distance between our bodies and the enormous mattress dominating the room.
Tonight, he lays me down delicately instead of tossing me around like a caveman. Not that I have any complaints about that side of him. Our previous encounter had started out perfectly well, if you ask me. But I certainly don’t mind this approach either.
As soon as I’m on my back, Callum’s greedy hands find my waist. He goes for my pants, stripping them off my legs and tossing them on the floor.
I’m sprawled out before him now, naked aside from my underwear and my purple silk blouse. I don’t know what to expect, so his next move surprises me.
Callum stands at the edge of the bed, gazing down at me. Dark desire swirls through his eyes. The muscles in his shoulders twitch and tighten. His chest heaves, and his nostrils flare. A sound rumbles from deep within him. The vibration reverberates through my muscles.
He stares until my uncertainties and fears begin to rise again. More than a minute has passed with his heavy, hungry gaze roving up and down my bare form.
My fluttering stomach churns unpleasantly.
“What is it?” I brace myself for another rejection even though I know it might kill me.
His eyes, pupils blown, drop to my thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Warmth spreads through my entire body. “Callum.”
He springs onto the bed while I’m still reeling from his compliment, pushing my legs apart so he can lick me over my underwear.
His tongue draws a line from one end of my seam to the other, and the sensation is so sinfully hot, so delicious, my head thumps against the bed.
A small moan spills from my open mouth as he presses his face against me, only a bit of silk between him and my bare skin.
Callum inhales. “God, you smell amazing. I can’t wait to taste you.”
Even the heat of his breath so near my sensitive skin sends pleasure pinging through me in every direction.
I exhale some nonsensical reply, too aroused and embarrassed for coherence.
“Can I taste you, Lucy?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my cheeks burning. But still, I nod. “Yes.”
I’m starting to believe I’d give Callum anything he wanted if he asked me with that heady, ravenous edge in his voice.
I feel more vulnerable than I anticipated. But I force myself to lie still as Callum removes my underwear, dragging the silk down my legs with aching leisure while he gets an eyeful of my bare pussy, wet and throbbing in anticipation of his kiss.
I shiver as the cold air hits my exposed skin. My chest heaves, my body aches, and my pulse thunders. His gaze alone blurs the edges of my sanity.
Finally, his expression shifts, and he grabs my legs. “Come here.” He pulls me down the bed, burying his face between my thighs.
“Shit, Callum!” I gasp as his mouth attacks me. My limbs quake from his skilled tongue.
His coarse hands dig into the underside of my thighs as he nods his head yes, sucking, licking, and lapping at me with a wildly talented tongue.
My fingers helplessly clutch the sheets.
I arch off the bed, shocked by the intensity of my own pleasure. The revulsion I expected, the fear, the shame…none of that exists in this space. Not with the warm affection blossoming in my chest and spreading through the rest of my body.
For years, I thought I didn’t deserve happiness. When I grew up and that belief started to fade, Viktor brought it right back to the forefront of my mind.
But here, on this bed, with this man touching me, making my body react in ways I believed impossible…I wonder if…maybe that isn’t true after all.
Maybe I can be happy. Maybe I can have the kind of life people like Maya and Nika deserve.
Maybe Callum could be the one to give me that.
One night at a time. Exploring and sharing this heat. The shuddering jolt of Callum’s possessive growl against my clit.
No matter how I moan, sigh, shriek, or swear, Callum doesn’t allow me a second of reprieve. He thrusts the length of his tongue through my entrance over and over again until I’m dizzy, body buzzing in pre-orgasmic bliss.
His grip on my legs tightens as he plunges faster, dipping his tongue in and out while his nose teases my clit.
Pressure deep within my core builds and builds until my thighs tense around his head, squeezing hard as pleasure rips me to shreds. My hips buck against his rough, gorgeous face.
My body trembles in more places than I knew possible as the orgasm crashes over me. Tectonic plates shift beneath my skin.
I’m faint, lightheaded, and spent by the end, my eyes dropping closed as heavy pants bring me back to reality after a climax I may well remember for the rest of my days.
I take a minute to catch my breath. Then realization sinks in.
I just came. With a man. After everything I experienced.
I didn’t panic. I didn’t run or shy away. I loved every second of his touch.
In fact, I already want more.
When my eyes peel open, Callum’s still between my thighs, my legs balanced over his shoulders. He glances up to meet my gaze, and his face twitches.
I prop myself up on my elbows to steal a better view of him. He tries to hide it, but I know a wince when I see one. “Callum?”
Dark red blooms across his t-shirt, seeping right through the material. Blood.
He’s bleeding.
“Callum!” Alarm crashes into me as I scramble backward and off his shoulders so I can rock onto my knees.
I’d bet money on him injuring himself while trying to save me earlier. Some debris probably rained down onto the net and hit him moments before I did. Or maybe his wound from that tattooed asshat with the knife reopened.
The sight of his blood scalds my throat with guilt. He’s hurt, and it’s my fault. His wound serves as a stark reminder of the danger surrounding us even in our most intimate moments.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I hop off the bed in seconds, wrapping my arm around his. He grimaces.
“I’m fine.” He pushes at my hand in an attempt to shoo me away. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Like hell it isn’t.”
I hurry us both to the bathroom, my mind spinning in circles.
How could I forget that every second Callum’s with me, he’s in danger?