Page 55 of Snake Eyes & Bad Luck

“Not even a choice,” he hummed, kissing her hard. A familiar rumble spread through the earth. His ears perked up, listening to that telltale whistle. Within a moment, a whole new plan formed. He pulled back from her lips. “There’s just you, darlin. Now, how’s about you and I get the fuck outta here. Once they put out those flames, they’re gonna realize yer not deep fried. Best to put some distance between us and this place.”

“What are you thinking?” she furrowed a brow.

“We catch the train to Eshorion. Ransack a couple of trunks, hunker down in a cabin, and when we get to the city we can see about catchin’ up with this friend of yers?”

A loud train whistle split the air and they both grinned from ear to ear.

Her eyes sparkled. Choose me first. She wanted him to pick her, to care more for her than selfish gain. It was going to be a change, but he couldn’t imagine it would be that hard of a change. Because all he wanted was her, safe and sound in his arms. Life would be rough. They were on the run. If it was found out he didn’t die, then both of them would be on posters all throughout the major cities.

But Callum always worked best when he had a challenge. His greatest work came from having a lofty goal. First was reputation, becoming the one outlaw no one wanted to mess with. Then it became freedom, how to escape the life he worked so hard to build. Finding a happily ever after for them was the loftiest goal there was, and he couldn’t wait to see how he accomplished it.

“Don’t think just because we’re doing this,” she blurted out, bunching up her skirts so that she could wrap her legs around him. They lay in wait in the grass, ready to strike. The train came into view on the horizon. It chugged toward them, rattling the ground. “That you’re forgiven yet. You promised to keep groveling till you’ve earned it. I’m holding you to that!”

“So long as yer at my side, little viper,” he smirked. Tail curled, dagger with rope attached to the hilt in hand, he was just waiting till the cargo cart came into view. “Ye can make me earn it for as long as ya like.”

The train roared. Grass blades were uprooted. A swirling tornado of steam and noise as the metal beast raced past them. Avelina clenched her eyes closed. He felt every finger as she dug her nails into his sides. One moment, they were lying down in the grass. The next he was a kite. Avelina’s scream of terror was swallowed by the clatter of the train on the tracks. Air whipped around them and he dropped them onto the back door balcony. With a head thud, he slammed the cargo door open. The pair of outlaws slithered into the shadows of the train, headed far away from Parandor, the strong hold that smelled of smoke. Callum stood by the door, one hand on her to keep her steady as Avelina watched the massive stone walls disappear behind them.

“Yer an outlaw now, Avelina,” he teased against her ear, closing the door and that chapter on their life. “Time to start livin’ like one.”

Chapter Twenty- Eight

Avelina

Once upon a time, happily ever afters only came in the form of books. Swashbuckling pirates, swooning princesses, magic libraries with dragons, and love that is so deep it sweeps the rug right from under a person. Avelina Dalethorn used to believe nothing would ever live up to the fantasies she played in her head. That she was stuck playing a part in someone else’s production, never the leading lady.

Then Callum, aka Cottonmouth, the slipperiest bastard in all the realm, snatched her right out of her boots.

Currently, he pressed against her in the common showers, tucked away from any prying eyes on a train they snuck onto. His lips peppered her neck. She sighed happily, the clean scent of soap lingering all over her. A steamy gush of water poured over her body. There were so many bruises on her, she could be a painting. The kind that they hung in museums to show an artist’s love of dark colors. Callum kissed and tenderly touched each of them.

His way of an apology was to get her into a shower as soon as they ransacked enough trunks to come up with clean clothes. Funny enough, there were so many cabins that were empty, they didn’t have to trick their way all the way to Eshorion. He taught her once that confidence was the key to anything. And so, when the attendants found them settling their stuff into the compartments, she confidently asked them where the showers were instead of trying to explain their dirty garments. Everyone is filthy, the city was evacuated and people jumped on the chance to go somewhere else. The attendant wasn’t fazed and happily got them to the showers. Even supplied some soap!

Which was how she ended up with her back to the warm, tiled wall of the community showers, fingers in Callum’s hair. He had one of her thighs propped up on a shoulder. He swore to keep groveling. She should have expected that he’d take that as a way to get his mouth on her. His lips pressed to her folds tenderly before his tongue spread her open. Her other hand clamped around her lips. The last thing she needed was for others to hear how good it felt to have Callum apologize. His tongue curling around her clit with the expertise of a silver-tongued liar.

Her outlaw lapped at her hungrily. He devoured her exactly how she liked. Knows me too well, the fucker. He wasn’t in a hurry either. They had several days. She knew he’d spend most of that train ride working on earning that forgiveness. She couldn’t wait. Head falling back, she groaned happily into her palm as he speared her open with his fingers. He teased, played, soothed, then tormented her cunt with his tongue while driving his digits deeper. The second he hit that sweet spot, sparks went off behind her eyes. She choked on her own tongue as the relief washed over her.

Callum chuckled, pulling his mouth away from her curls but his fingers continued to fuck her. “That’s it, darlin, let me taste how much ya missed it.”

“Fuck you,” she laughed as her hand fell from her face. Callum said nothing as he lapped up every drop. Wringing all the bliss he could from her, he pressed his tongue deep into her with his fingers. That familiar pressure of being stuffed full returned and she couldn’t help requesting it. “I want you to fuck me with both again.”

He hummed against her cunt, fingers flexing against her sweet spot. Callum thrust his tongue in sloppily. Those fingers stretched and spread but always came back to press into her soft walls. Her outlaw happily drove her up another cliff of desire and tossed her off. Another wash of pleasure flooded her belly, and she felt warmth dribble out of her that wasn’t from the shower head. Her eyes were nearly rolled back in her head. Only then did he remove his tongue from her and speak. Smug as ever, licking his chops, he grinned up at her. “Oh yeah? And what book did that come from.”

“None,” she wheezed.

“Now,” he growled hungrily, crawling up her body. Her thigh fell off his shoulder only to be scooped up his arms. He pinned her to that wall, eliciting a grunt from her. Giddy excitement buzzed through her veins again as she felt two heavy cocks pressing to her entrance. “Are ya sayin’ I’ve exceeded even yer dirtiest fantasies?”

“I’m just saying that I’ve never read where the hero had two cocks,” she spat, trying to cover up the burning blush claiming her face.

“Admit it, darlin,” he purred against her lips. The tangy flavor of her release all over his tongue as he kissed her feverishly. She moaned into his mouth before he pulled back. “Outlaws do it better.”

“I thought you were apologizing for being a dirty, rotten bastard?” she scoffed.

“Not in the slightest. I was apologizin’ for doin’ ya wrong. Never for who I am…cause ya like that I’m a dirty, rotten bastard. In fact, it’s one of my redeemin’ qualities, ain’t it?” His smug mouth couldn’t curl higher on his sharp face. And she loved it. Loved how he knew that he’d struck gold. Loved how he thrust in her, not being gentle because she wanted the thrill of being fucked senseless against that wall. Most of all she loved him, just as he was.

His mouth claimed hers. Hips pistoning himself into her, deeper and deeper and deeper till both of his cocks were seated all the way to the hilt in her. Her fingernails carved trenches into his skin as he fucked her like she belonged to him. She did. Just like he belonged to her. He was her rogue, her Cottonmouth, her dirty, rotten bastard.

“Tell me you love me,” she moaned into his mouth.

He snickered, nuzzling his face against hers. “I love ya, darlin. Love ya more than anything.”