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And I won’t fight him on it.
This man consumes everything around him—the air, the light, the energy in the room. And he does the same with me. Like he can’t exist without this connection.
He tears his mouth away and slides his arm under my thigh, lifting it up and out, allowing him to change his angle of attack. His eyes dart down to where our bodies meet. “You’re so beautiful when you take my cock…”
Christ, there is it.
A few simple words.
The truth in the way he says them.
His relentlessness.
All of it builds that sizzling heat centered between my thighs, and it starts to spread out through every nerve in my body. I tremble under him, wound so tightly, so close that a tear trickles down my cheek in anticipation of the release.
He plows into me, grinding his hips against mine as he bottoms out, hitting exactly the right spot as he leans down and licks the trail of my tear from my skin. His pace increases, and I grip the sheets under me, terrified I’ll float away when my orgasm finally comes.
“I’ve got you, Beauty.” He nips at my lips, his body moving fluidly with mine, muscles bunching and flexing, the sharp snap of his hips echoing in the room. “Let go.”
After the fear I experienced in those woods, I know I need to. I can’t cling to it the way I am this man, and with three more thrusts, he unlocks the final piece holding me back and I spin off into sheer ecstasy.
Chapter Fourteen
CALLISTA
Warm lips press to the back of my neck, and I stir, the cloudy remnants of sleep starting to lift. Stretching, I groan and roll toward the wall of heat, feeling him everywhere.
His strong arm wrapped around me. Our legs entwined. The ache between my legs that will linger as a reminder of last night and how fucking good it was.
That’s the memory I want to hang onto, not the one of what happened on that path that brought us here.
Splayed out on his back, Weston’s chest rises and falls slowly, his eyes closed, and I settle with my face over his heart, listening to the steady beat that almost lulls me back to sleep.
He releases a little satisfied groan. His arm tightens around me, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Good morning.”
His low, gravelly voice stirs something deep inside me that has nothing to do with what we did in this bed last night and everything to do with the words I said to him.
I may have revealed too much, gone too far, pushed the man beyond what he’s capable of. That makes me swallow thickly as I glance up at him. “Good morning.”
I stare at the far wall of the bedroom, the elegant mural that covers it. Covered with birds in flight and a vast, green meadow, mountains that look all too familiar, it’s almost as if someone came in and painted it after studying the view from the library.
Hell, they probably did.
The Barkers would have spared no expense building and decorating this place, but knowing what lies beneath the ground pictured there makes me shiver despite Weston’s hard, warm body cocooning mine.
He threads his fingers through my hair slowly. “What’s wrong?”
I chew on my bottom lip, thinking about what I found in the old books I’ve been devouring the last few days. Weston hasn’t offered me any answers, hasn’t revealed his secrets, save for the very dark nature of the land. But the more I read, the harder I search, the closer I feel to finding what I need.
Something that might save Dad and the man under me.
Reservations still linger as to whether I should reveal what I’ve been doing, given his insistence that I stay out of Barker business, but if there were ever a time to bring it up, it seems like it would be now. With Weston relaxed and satiated, almost peaceful, for the first time since I met him.
“I’ve been busy in the library…”
He nods, his fingers twisting through my hair. “I figured.”
Just rip off the Band-Aid.
