Chapter Thirty-Four Sophie #4
"I love you, Sophie."
The words strike me hard, landing in my chest and flooding me with warmth. His voice is rough with emotion, but his face is so confident and assured. I've heard the words before, but I don't think I've ever felt the confidence and belief in them as I do with Callum.
It's the fairy-tale happy-ending love everyone dreams of.
I had thought I had found that before, but I was wrong.
I'm not wrong now, though, because through the hardest moments of my life, I've been able to smile and laugh through them because of this man's love.
Because of his respect for me. His care and his words of support, and the way he just shows up and chooses me every single moment of every day.
Because that's love.
Callum leans in and kisses me, and I melt into it, into him.
His beard gently scratches against my jaw and cheeks as we deepen the kiss.
My fingers tighten around his lapels, and his arm wraps around my waist, the other still on my cheek.
Once I feel his tongue brush against mine, I know we need to get out of here—now.
Reluctantly, I pull back and kiss his cheek, whispering in his ear. "Let's go back up to the room."
"Yeah?" Callum asks breathlessly, pulling back so that he can meet my eyes.
I nod eagerly, biting my lip through my smile. Callum looks like he wants to pick me up and toss me over his shoulder, but composes himself. Barely. The walk to the elevator is in tense, silent silence.
When we step into the elevator, though, Callum loses control. He backs me up to the mirrored wall and kisses me—fiercely, passionately—and I softly moan into his mouth. His hands wander from my back, down to my ass, where he squeezes briefly, groaning into my mouth.
When the bell dings, Callum pulls back, and we realize—mercifully—that we've made it up to our floor without any other riders.
Callum bends down and sweeps me up in a bridal carry, causing me to squeal softly in surprise as he hurriedly carries me to our room.
I slip my hand into his back pocket and slide the key card in, unlocking our door.
Callum carries me into the room, kissing me once more as he expertly navigates us to the bedroom. He gently kicks open the door and pulls back, smiling at the room. I follow his gaze and gasp softly.
The room is not how we left it a couple of hours ago. There's a bunch of little LED candles strategically placed around the room—safe and also cozy. Rose petals are scattered on the bed, and the lights are dimmed low.
It's so romantic, sweet, and perfect, and I can't believe he did this. Actually, no, I can.
It's Callum.
"How did yo—"
"Asked Michael for a favor," he murmurs, kissing my cheek. "I didn't want to be presumptuous, but I had hoped—"
I cut him off with a kiss.
"I'm just glad we're on the same page," I giggle against his mouth. "We always seem to be."
"We really do," says, nuzzling his nose against mine.
He places me down on the edge of the bed and then kneels in front of me, gently undoing my shoes and pulling them off. While my shoes were pretty comfortable, my feet are still sore after hours on them walking and dancing—beauty is pain, after all.
Callum sees me flex my pink-painted toes and grimace, and his big, warm hands cover my feet, gently massaging them.
I moan softly at how wonderful it feels, and Callum's eyes grow a little heavy, "God, that sound."
"There's more where that came from," I pat the bed to get him on it.
Laughing, he stands up and kicks off his own shoes. I kneel on the bed and reach up to undo his tie, tossing it across the room as he takes off his jacket and unbuttons his shirt.
When he finally stands bare from the waist up in front of me, I can't help but reach out to touch him, marveling at the sight of his chest, his dark hair, and the muscles tensing under my touch.
Gently helping me stand from the bed, he places his hands on my hips and spins me around. Kissing my exposed shoulder, his hands trail up my back and pull down the zipper of my dress. It falls to the floor and pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my nude, lacy thong.
Callum's sharp intake of breath tells me that he likes what he sees.
Turning around to face him, I see Callum's pupils blown wide as he takes me in from head to toe.
"Sweet girl..." he rumbles.
Bending down to accommodate our height difference, he caresses his hands on my hips, over my ass, his warm touch causing my nipples to tighten at the sensation, until he slides his hands under my thighs and lifts.
My legs wrap immediately around his waist as he walks us back to bed and lays me down.
So tenderly, he reaches up and pulls off my wig, carefully placing it on the wig stand.
The heat, want, and love in his eyes don't dissipate when he turns back to me. I don't feel self-conscious about my lack of hair around him anymore. Not when he's looking at me like that.
In this moment, in every moment with him, I truly feel powerful, sexy, and desired.
He undoes his belt, pants, and pulls them and his boxers down together. I lean back on my hands and just let my eyes trail over his beautiful body.
God, he's... something else.
From his broad chest, his big arms, his thick legs, all the way to his feet—he's so strong and so sturdy.
Immovable. Powerful.
Moving my eyes down, I bite my lip. His cock is a perfect length, not too long, but thick just like the rest of him. It felt so good in my mouth, and I felt so good that I could give him that pleasure.
And honestly, I felt possessive and proud that I was the first to do so.
Callum stands fully erect, pointing right at me, as if it's giving him a clue where to go.
I decide to help him along.
Putting a teasing grin on my face, I scoot back on the bed, leaning against the soft pillows and spreading my legs.
The ache between my legs is reaching a fever pitch. I reach into my panties to play with myself in front of him, moaning when I feel how wet I am, how wet he's made me.
Callum keeps his heated eyes on me, flickering back and forth between my face and my hand. The expression on his face is one of both awe and a little pain, like he can't decide whether he wants to keep watching me or come to me.
His jaw is clenched tight, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, and his chest heaving.
"Christ... you are fucking perfect," he growls at me, and I arch my back, making the decision for him—I need him, now.
"Callum," I whine, rubbing a little harder, the wet noise clear and almost obscene in the quiet room. "Please..."
"You need me, baby?"
I nod my head, frantic and desperate.
I feel like prey as he slowly stalks toward me, crawling on the bed and settling between my spread legs. Gently, he takes my hand out of my panties and brings my soaked fingers to his mouth, eyes locked on mine as he cleans them off, humming at the taste of me.
His body covers me, and he leans down to kiss me until I'm dripping and writhing under him, "Callum, I want—"
"I know, my otter, I know," he coos, kissing me once more before moving down my body.
Callum uses his lips and tongue and kisses a path all the way to my pussy where he tongues me through the thin lace. Pleasure burst through me, every atom is on fire, it's too much and not enough.
"More..." I cry out, before he moves my panties to the side and devours me. He's a fast study—using lots of tongue, and my hips jerk when I feel him start to fuck me with it while he uses the pads of his forefingers to circle my clit.
Spreading my legs wider, I reach down to run my fingers through his hair, watching him eat me out. His eyes are locked onto me as he licks up the center, swirling his tongue around my swollen clit and moving his hands to firmly grasp my thighs.
The sight of it is too erotic, and I come quick and hard against his mouth.
"Callum, I'm coming!" I moan out, gripping his hair tightly and rocking my hips against his face through my orgasm, while his eyes stay right on me.
His tongue slows to soft and sweet laps, "Sweetest girl," he mumbles into my pussy, humming and placing one last kiss on me.
He looks wrecked in the best way—eyes glazed, hair disheveled from my hands, mouth and beard wet from me. He kisses his way back up, moving to settle between my legs.
Cupping his face, I practically yank him down to my mouth, moaning when I can taste myself on his lips. Callum groans into my mouth and rolls his hips against me, the friction so delicious as his cock slides against my pussy.
He does it again and again, and I can barely think straight.
"So good," I moan against his mouth, and he grins, nipping at my top lip.
He chuckles, "I think I'm addicted to eating your pussy."
"You are quite talented at it," I giggle, licking into his mouth and feeling his hips jerk in response. "A+, greatest of all time, perfect marks, honor roll, and all that."
He rumbles a laugh, I can feel it in my own chest. "Honor roll in eating your pussy—"
"—only my pussy—"
"—always only your pussy, Sophie," he says, half-joke, all promise. "Always only you."
The sincerity in his eyes, the promise in his words. And I believe him. I know he'll never stray. I know he'll never run from me.
I know I have no need to ever worry.
I reach down to grab his cock, stroking once or twice to watch his face slacken before I position him at my entrance, hitching my legs up at his hips.
With our chests pressed together, I feel our hearts beating in rhythm.
He reaches one hand up to cup my cheek and kisses me sweetly, "You have my whole heart, Sophie. I love you."
"I love you, Callum," I smile and tell him softly, before leaning in and nipping his lips. "Now, love of my life, please fuck me."
He grins and whispers, "As you wish."
I'm already dripping and ready for him, so there's no resistance when he presses his hips forward and slides into me.
We moan simultaneously at the connection.