Chapter 17
Pippa
The cold air bit at my cheeks as we left the lingering warmth of the Solstice bonfire behind, the echo of wishes sparking skyward still vibrating in my bones.
Callen walked on my left, his large frame radiating heat like a banked furnace even through the crisp night air. Jarek was a flicker of motion on my right, his usual restless energy honed to a sharp, anticipatory tension.
They didn't speak, but I could feel the weight of their unspoken agreement pressing against me from both sides—a gravitational pull that made each step toward the Dormitory feel inevitable.
My pulse quickened as their intent wrapped around me like a net, cutting off any escape route back to the festival chaos. Back to my room. Back to being alone.
Callen murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my chilled skin, "Unfinished work."
Jarek's responding grin was a flash of white teeth in the moonlight, predatory and promising. Heat pooled low in my belly, breath catching as anticipation sparked through my veins like wildfire.
Oh, this is happening. Really, truly happening.
The worn wood of my door felt cool beneath my palm as I fumbled with the key. My hands trembled—not from cold, but from the electric awareness of two powerful bodies flanking me, their heat seeping through my ceremony robes.
Inside, the familiar scent of parchment dust and my favorite cinnamon wax polish washed over me, instantly overlaid by something else—the sharp, clean ozone of Callen's warding magic.
He flicked his fingers almost negligently as the door clicked shut behind us, a shimmering veil of silver light sealing the edges before fading.
Privacy absolute.
Jarek shrugged out of his Rider's jacket, the heavy leather hitting a nearby chair with a soft thud, his russet hair catching the glow of the small lantern I'd left burning. The air changed instantly. Charged not just with magic, but with the raw heat simmering between us all week.
No pretense. No more dodging glances or unanswered tension. Just three bodies thrumming with the residual magic of the ritual, the fire of the Solstice, and the undeniable spark we'd been circling.
"So," I started, aiming for my usual flippant tone but hearing the breathy hitch instead, "who wants leftover Solstice cake? I think there's some—"
The words died as Jarek's mouth found the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder. His lips were warm, insistent, and the scrape of his teeth sent a jolt straight down my spine.
At the same moment, Callen stepped in close behind me, his large hands settling firmly on my hips, fingers splayed possessively. Not urging, just holding. Anchoring me between them.
His chest pressed solidly against my back, the heat of him searing through the layers of my ceremony robe. I gasped, my head falling back against Callen's shoulder as Jarek kissed, nipped, and laved a path up my throat.
My back arched instinctively, pressing into Callen's strength while seeking Jarek's heat, like a taut wire strung between two live currents.
No escape. And honestly? Good.
Callen's breath was a warm huff against my ear, his thumbs rubbing small circles on my hip bones through the thin fabric. Jarek murmured against my skin, "Cake later, Pips. Much later."
"Alright, alright," I managed, trying for nonchalance but sounding wrecked already. My fingers reached back, tangling in Callen's dark hair, pulling him closer.
To Jarek, breathless, "But you're terrible at sharing."
He just laughed, the vibration humming against my collarbone, his hands already moving to the ties of my robe.
Callen, though… his hands left my hips, sliding around my waist only to capture my wrists in a grip that was firm, unyielding. He lifted my arms smoothly above my head, pinning them there with one strong hand.
"Stay," he commanded, his voice a low growl that shivered through me.
The single word hit me like a physical blow—not painful, but overwhelming. My body went liquid with submission even as my mind reeled with the thrill of being captured, held, claimed.
Every nerve ending flared to life under the weight of his authority. I was trapped between them, utterly at their mercy, and gods help me, I'd never wanted anything more.
Jarek's nimble fingers made quick work of the silken ties at my waist, peeling the robe open before letting it pool at my feet. The cool air kissed my skin, raising goosebumps instantly chased away by the heat radiating off both men.
He knelt, his clever hands sliding the simple trousers I wore underneath down my legs, taking my smallclothes with them in one smooth motion.
I was left standing bare before them, only Callen's grip holding me upright as Jarek sat back on his heels, his amber eyes darkening as they travelled up my body with undisguised hunger.
I squirmed, partly from the vulnerability, mostly from the sheer intensity of their gazes, one cool and assessing, the other blazing hot.
"Your turn," I insisted, straining against Callen's hold. "Fair's fair. Off." My free hand fumbled towards Callen's shirt buttons, towards Jarek's tunic laces.
Callen's hand tightened fractionally on my wrists. "Patience."
Steel beneath the calm. A voice used to being obeyed. He held me utterly still as Jarek rose again, stepping close. Jarek's hands settled on my bare waist, warm and slightly rough, thumbs stroking my hip bones.
His gaze met Callen's over my shoulder, a silent exchange passing between them that made my breath catch.
Then Jarek leaned in, bypassing my mouth to kiss a hot, open-mouthed path down my throat, over the swell of my breast. My nipple tightened instantly under the graze of his teeth, a sharp, sweet ache blossoming.
I whimpered, arching into the sensation, only to be held firmly in place by Callen's unwavering grip.
Jarek's lips and tongue moved lower, tracing the curve of my ribcage, the dip of my navel, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Oh, gods. Yes. Don't stop.
He sank to his knees again, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of my thighs, urging them apart. I gasped, instinctively trying to close them, but Callen shifted his stance subtly, widening his own legs, forcing mine to stay spread.
Exposed.
Trembling.
Jarek didn't wait. He pressed his face into the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply. "Fuck, Pippa," he groaned, the sound muffled against my skin, a raw vibration that echoed straight to my core.
"Three fucking years I've waited to taste you."
And then his mouth was there, hot and wet and greedy, his tongue sweeping broad, firm strokes through my folds. I cried out, my legs jerking, but his hands clamped down on my hips, pinning me against Callen's solid body.
Immobile as his tongue found my clit, circling it with relentless pressure before sucking it hard into his mouth.
Pleasure, sharp and electric, exploded behind my eyes. My knees buckled, but Callen held me effortlessly upright, his forearms flexing against my back.
"Just so." Callen's voice was deep, approving, close to my ear.
He released one of my wrists, but only to slide his large hand possessively over my bare stomach and up, cupping my breast. No teasing. His thumb found my nipple, already stiff and aching, and pinched it lightly.
Then he murmured something under his breath. Words that sounded like old stones grinding together.
"What—" I started to gasp, but then warmth bloomed beneath his touch, tingling magic spreading outwards from his fingers like liquid sunlight. So unexpected, so impossibly intense, that I cried out in shock before the pleasure even fully hit.
"Callen, what are you—oh gods!"
It multiplied the pinch, the sensation echoing down my nerves to meet the demanding pull of Jarek's mouth. I gasped, shuddering violently, my cry fracturing into a ragged moan of Callen's name.
"Responsive," he murmured, satisfaction lacing the word.
He flicked his fingers slightly, sending another pulse of that heated magic directly into my nipple, a jolt that arced straight down my spine to where Jarek worked his tongue with ruthless skill.
Too much, the dual assault—Jarek's relentless suction, Callen's magic-laced touch igniting my nerve endings. My hips jerked hard against Jarek's hold, a desperate rhythm building purely from sensation.
The coil wound tighter. Impossibly tight.
"Callen!" I sobbed, my free hand scrabbling uselessly at his arm behind me.
"Let her feel it again," Callen commanded Jarek, his voice rough but utterly steady.
Jarek didn't hesitate. He flattened his tongue against my clit and dragged it upward slowly, deliberately, the broad pressure exquisite torture. At the same instant, Callen traced a shimmering symbol onto my inner thigh with his fingertip, a sigil composed of pure golden light.
The moment it touched my skin, another wave of pure, undiluted pleasure bloomed directly in my core, triggered by his will and his magic. It ripped through me, a second climax shattering over the first, so intense it felt like being torn apart.
Stars burst behind my eyelids. My body bowed, rigid, every muscle trembling as wave after wave crashed through me.
Jarek groaned into my flesh, his tongue never stopping its relentless rhythm, drinking every spasm. Callen held me through it all, his arm like iron around my waist, his hand still possessively cupping my breast, thumb gently stroking the now ultra-sensitive peak.
Too much… too good… can't…
The sensations faded slowly, leaving me limp, gasping, utterly boneless between them. Dazed. Glowing with sweat and leftover magic, I tried to lift my head, tried to push back just a little, to find my footing.
My legs felt like liquid fire, completely unreliable.