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In his sleep, Callum’s all handsy, grabby, so exactly the same as when he’s awake. Except he looks younger. Less bossy. More…attainable, somehow. He’s still ridiculously bloody gorgeous, but for a little while I can pretend I’m not in bed with someone who’s twenty-something in line for the throne of our kingdom.
“I can feel you staring.”
Oh. So much for him sleeping.
“You stayed the night,” I say in wonder.
He grunts against my hair. “My neck may never recover.”
I chance a glance at his feet, which are hanging in the air. “My bed definitely isn’t Noble-sized.”
“If only the size were the only issue.” Callum sits up and rolls his neck, before dragging my body to his lap.
Sometime overnight, we both shed all our clothes, and there’s something incredibly intimate about sitting against him, bare, without a single layer of fabric between us. Especially while we’re not actually fucking.
“Can we talk about your pillow, though? What woman only has one? And a shitty one. And don’t get me started on the springs in that mattress. Is it a form of torture?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so fragile.”
“I’ll show you fragile.”
The amused, delighted threat is clear in his rumbly voice, and I expect to be gagging on cock within seconds, but Callum is far more evil. He starts to tickle me.
I honestly don’t remember ever being tickled. If anyone had asked me whether I was sensitive, I would probably have said no.
Lies. All lies.
I’m writhing, laughing uncontrollably, attempting to get away, but it’s Callum, and he doesn’t need handcuffs to overpower me.
“Please! Oh, Callum, please!”
“Nah. But beg me some more. I might change my mind.”
His fingers explore every crook that drives me into frenzied hysterics. Then all of a sudden, there’s pressure at my entrance and Callum drives into me from underneath, pushing through my tense walls, all the while never stopping his assault on my underarms, my knees, my damn feet! He grinds his hard cock into me, relentless fingers teasing me until I can barely breathe.
“Stop it! Please, Cal, stop!”
“Tell me you’re mine and I might.”
Relentless, exasperating goddamned jerk!
“I’m yours,” I whimper. “I’m yours. Please, st?—”
Stop. I was going to say stop. But his mouth crashes against mine, devouring my breath along with the last word. His hands leave my poor limbs to clasp the back of my neck, my waist, eagerly running his large palms over my skin, smooth and reverent.
Callum doesn’t tend to fuck me like this; taking his time, not racing to the finish line, all the while kissing me. I don’t know what to make of it. My hips move to meet his of their own volition, my back arching into it as I ride him. Suddenly, my insides are on fire and demanding more, and I don’t know how he got the signal, but Callum’s also grunting, lifting his hips to reach deeper, the head of his cock hitting a bundle of nerves inside me that has me screaming into his shoulders as my teeth bite down.
My orgasm comes in soft waves, not as explosive as some of the previous ones he so ruthlessly forced upon me, but comfortable, peaceful. It feels less like brutal, visceral, bestial coupling and more like…affection. Or something close to it, anyway.
Sex with Callum Noble is an addiction I don’t know how to stop. Not that it’s up to me. If I did attempt to prevent it, I’d still end up full of cum. Good thing I don’t seem to mind.
“I’m on the pill, by the way,” I tell him.
He’s never asked, which is highly irresponsible, but the way we’ve been fucking hasn’t left much room for reason.
“You are?” he replies, with a careless indifference. “That’s a shame.”
I snort. “Christ, you’re so ridiculous. How many bastards do you have running around?”
