Chapter 33
ASHA
This isn’t so bad. I mean, am I going to expire from lust thinking about Callum in bed next to me soon? Most likely, yes.
But that’s fine.
I had planned to be pretending sleep by the time Callum came out of the bathroom, but I severely overestimated the amount of time he would spend getting ready for bed, because I’m still double-checking the tickets and notes for tomorrow when he opens that door.
He’s wearing low-slung gray sweatpants and a white shirt. Everything is unnecessarily tight, and I look away so he doesn’t feel like a piece of meat. I’m still thinking of him as one, but I can’t control that.
He kneels by his open suitcase, probably arranging his own things for tomorrow. I slide past him in the narrow space to get my contacts case that I left in the bathroom. I’m trying so hard to avoid looking at Callum that I run straight into him before I realize he even stood up from his task.
I’m plastered against him from chest to knees, and his hands reach out to my upper arms to steady me.
“Sorry,” I whisper. This close, anything louder than a whisper seems too loud, too abrasive.
“It’s my fault,” Callum whispers above me, apparently feeling the same way about the moment.
We’ve both apologized with our words, but our bodies show no intention of moving away from the predicament we’ve found ourselves in. If anything, Callum’s fingers are rubbing small circles on my upper arm, just below where my sleeve ends, inching a little higher under my sleeve as he goes.
“I should…step away,” Callum whispers.
“Good plan. I should, too.” But neither of us moves apart.
Instead, I tilt my head farther back so I can see more of Callum’s face.
His expression is intense, like he’s reading a dense book on medieval history to prepare for his tours and he keeps getting the King Edwards mixed up. There are quite a lot of them.
“So why can’t I step away?” This time, the whispered words blow warm breath over my cheek and I move a little higher onto my tiptoes, putting our mouths closer together. He bends his head down until we’re so close I should move to measuring in centimeters.
“Don’t know. I don’t want you to, though,” I say.
“This is a bad idea.”
“So was the internet, but now we get videos of cats and dogs being friends occasionally.”
“Are you comparing my kiss to animal videos?” He moves his head a fraction of a centimeter back, but that’s not what I want. I bring my hand up to the back of his neck and tug his head down.
“I think I’m technically comparing your kiss to the internet. What are you going to do about it?”
With a frustrated growl, Callum gives in, crushing his mouth on mine. He immediately gentles his approach and the growl transforms into a groan.
I melt against him while his lips flutter kisses around my mouth before going in again for a proper kiss, this time with tongue.
Before I can get my fill of the sensations bombarding me, like the lust and warmth melting all my muscles so I’m just a mass of person slumped against him, he pulls away.
With no support, I stumble a step before he catches me.
“How do you always taste like chocolate?” He licks his lips in confusion, staring at my mouth.
I know somewhere better he can lick. “I keep emergency chocolate in my backpack.” I lean up trying to get his lips again.
But he stubbornly resists. “What constitutes a chocolate emergency?”
I rock back on my heels, frowning in confusion over why we’re talking about this now. “I really like chocolate.”
“Of course,” he mumbles, I think more to himself than me. Before I can follow up on the comment, his mouth is on mine again.
This time I throw my legs around him as I wrap my arms around him, climbing his body to get height so he can’t pull away as easily again. He’s on board with the idea, grabbing my thighs and then my butt as he moves me toward the bed.
Blood rushes to my head as he tumbles us both down onto the mattress, making me feel even more lightheaded than I was when he started kissing me. Before I can regain my equilibrium, his hands slide up my shirt, caressing stomach, sides, back, and inching up to my breasts.
I grab his shirt and tug it furiously up, almost causing us injury when the shirt smacks us at our fused lips.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” I say.
Callum laughs at me. Well, that’s rude. I sit up and glare.
“I didn’t expect to get physically assaulted by the Wee Sunshine for kissing her. Do you have hidden depths?”
“Get over here and see my hidden depths for yourself,” I say indignantly, still a bit embarrassed I almost took off both of our lips.
Callum laughs when he realizes what I said.
“Great, you choose this moment to discover you love to laugh. I’ll put on Archer later, but can we get back to this now, Rain Cloud? ”
“Yes. I have depths I’ve been ordered to discover.”
I roll us on the bed, getting on top. If he’s going to choose this moment to embrace whimsy, when I have been trying to get him to loosen up all trip, then I’m going to be in charge.
With Callum on his back, I take off his pants and underwear together and throw them, not pausing long enough to find out if he wears boxers or briefs.
Then I take my own clothes off and get back to kissing him.
I rub against him while I do, feeling his hard penis rub against my thigh, my stomach, and then finally my clit.
His abdomen clenches when I run my hands over it, and I’m glad for the physical evidence that he is as affected by me as I am by him.
This time I break us apart.
“What? Are you changing your mind?” At least he’s back to looking disgruntled. This Callum I can handle, when he stays in the box I put him in. The other Callum is confusing.
“Condom!” I get off him and race through the cold room to my suitcase. I grab a box of condoms and race back, picking one out on my way and tossing the box aside when I bounce back on the bed. “And lube , too!”
Callum extends his giant frame over the side of the bed and picks up the box while I hold up the condom like it’s the trophy I got for writing the best essay in Academic Decathlon. That was a sweet trophy.
“Forty condoms? Are you planning on having sex with an entire football club while we’re here?”
“Listen, you sex shamer, I am here for my horny group of eighteen to thirties, and I will provide all of them with the tools for a safe, enjoyable, consequence-free vacation bang! Many safe, enjoyable, consequence-free vacation bangs. Now be silent and give me a safe, enjoyable, consequence-free vacation bang, you grumpy Irish rain cloud!”
“All right, then.” His eyes are wide in what might be terror, but his erection is still happily pointed at me, and his hands are griping my waist again. “Can you please put one of the dozens of condoms that you travel with on me now?”
“You are so lucky you’re attractive.” And that his kisses make me feel like he’s turning my blood into liquid metal, warming me from the inside better than a cup of Glühwein on a winter’s night.
So I kiss him while I blindly reach for his penis, sliding the condom down over it.
Without me looking at him, I have to rely a lot on touch to accomplish the task, but I don’t think Callum minds, with his deep moan.
Condom on, I push Callum fully horizontal, following him down. “You like being on top, Wee Sunshine?”
Instead of answering with words, I pump his penis a few times and then rub the hard muscle against my clit, gyrating against it and getting wetter in the process.
“You’re so beautiful,” Callum says, over teasing me now. His hands cup my breasts, his rough fingers caressing my nipples while I play with his penis like it’s my vibrator. “You drive me crazy.”
He doesn’t sound super happy about my effect on him, but he does move his hands down my body. They gently move mine aside before rubbing against my clit.
“You can get wetter.”
“What? Are you telling me about my own—”
Suddenly, Callum grips my hips and flips us over so I’m on the bottom, and then with a quick kiss he leaves my northern hemisphere to explore the southern. He flicks his tongue out, first fast and then slowly, around the clit he was just rubbing.
Know-it-all though he may be, he’s right; I can get wetter.
And I proceed to prove it until I’m on the brink of orgasm.
His fingers join his tongue as he inserts and withdraws them, slowly at first and then faster.
It doesn’t take long until I’m coming, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure washing over me.
My body convulses around his fingers, bucking against him as he slows his movements, but doesn’t pull away.
My clit is sensitive, and each touch sends more jolts of sensation through me.
I knew it would be good with Callum, but even I didn’t think the man who scoffs at pleasure could give me quite so much of it.
Before I can recover completely, he’s squirting lube onto his hand and pumping himself, and then sliding his slick penis into my still gently contracting muscles, causing them to start spasming again.
He thrusts in and out a few times, and then when my heart rate calms down a little, I flip him over, with a lot of help from Callum.
On top, I throw my head back and slide up and down on his erection. I like being the one to control his pleasure this time. It makes me feel powerful. In a way I really like.
I’m usually more than happy to let other people make decisions because I just want them to be happy, but I’m loving taking control in this moment. Loving that I’m taking control to give him the same pleasure he gave me. To make him as happy as he makes me.
“Yes, Sunshine. Faster.” His hands guide my hips to the speed he wants as the back of his head digs into the bed, his body tight with tension of his impeding orgasm. “That’s a good girl.”
I keep up the pace, and just when I think I won’t be able to maintain it for much longer, he pulls my hips in and holds me steady as he comes, digging into my thick hips until he’s done.
He relaxes his whole body, every muscle going from tense to calm in the span of a second, and a look of sleepy satisfaction takes over his face, including the smallest of smiles.
Which for Callum is a big deal indeed.
Panting, I collapse next to him. Callum rouses enough to get rid of the condom and turn off the light, like a gentleman. I, not wanting to be left out of the helping, get the covers pulled back for us and settle on my side.
Callum slides into the bed next to me and lies flat on his back. He doesn’t invite me to snuggle him, so I restrain myself. It’s hard, and I have to fight my body to do it, even catching a stray arm or leg inching toward him before I can snatch it back like a pet parent with wandering puppies.
I’m doing a great job at being subtle about it though, I’m sure.
“I can hear you wanting to snuggle.”
Damn it. “No, you can’t.”
“Come over here, then.” He extends his arm out, but very begrudgingly.
“I don’t love this energy.” My body is angry at why I give a shit about his energy when it could be snuggling his body right now. “It’s very martyr-walking-to-their-execution, which is not the energy most conducive for snuggling.” We have some dignity, body.
He leans over and looks me directly in the eyes. “I want you close to me. Despite how physically uncomfortable you make me when you’re asleep, I’m happier when providing you comfort. So come here. We’ve had a long day and you need rest.”
That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, with also the sternest tone. Nothing I can say in response will be adequate, so I scoot closer to the warm, if slightly sweaty, body and settle in.
This is the best way to end a long day of touring.