He doesn’t make me wait. He moves up my body, his weight pressing me into the mattress, and I feel the head of his cock nudging against me. He pushes in slowly, inch by glorious inch, and I groan, my nails digging into his shoulders. He’s big and the stretch burns in the best way, even after he readied me for him with his fingers. When he’s fully seated inside me, he pauses, his forehead resting against mine, and I can feel his heartbeat, wild and erratic, matching my own.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock for me?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
I don’t answer, can’t answer, because he starts moving, his thrusts deep and hard, each one hitting a spot that makes me see stars. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, and he groans, his pace quickening. The room is filled with the sound of our breathing, our moans, the slick slap of skin against skin, and I’m close, so close, but I want him to come with me.
“Callen,” I gasp, my voice breaking.“I’m—”
He doesn’t let me finish. His hand slides between us, his fingers finding my clit, and that’s all it takes. I shatter, my body convulsing around him, and he follows, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spills inside me. For a moment, everything is still, the world reduced to the two of us, and then he collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms.
We lie there in silence, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin, and I close my eyes, letting myself drift in the afterglow.
Callen’s lips trail down my chest, warm and slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of me. He kisses each breast, then his mouth closes over a nipple, sucking gently, and I arch into him, a soft gasp escaping before I can stop it. He shifts to the other breast, his tongue flicking over the peak, and I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there. My skin feels too sensitive, like every touch is electric, and I can’t think straight.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough.“I’ve never seen anything lovelier in my life.”
The words hit me harder than they should. My throat tightens, and I blink up at the ceiling, trying to steady myself. I don’t know how to take this—this kind of adoration, this intensity. I want to believe him, but there’s a part of me that still whispers I don’t deserve it.
He moves up, and his lips find mine. The kiss is soft, almost tentative, like he’s asking permission, even though I can still feel the sting of his delicious punishment. I kiss him back, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the muscles shift under his skin.
When he pulls back, his eyes meet mine, and there’s something in his gaze I can’t quite read. Something that makes my chest ache.
“Brigid,” he says.
I don’t let him finish, instead I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer, and bury my face in the crook of his neck. His scent fills my lungs and I cling to him like I’m about to be washed out to sea.
“I’ll always protect you, no matter what.”
I nod, my heart swelling with emotion.“I know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.“And I’ll never let you go.”
Callen’s lips curve into a smile, and he pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me like armor.“You don’t have to,” he says.“Because I’m never letting you go, either.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Brigid
Later, I walk into the dining hall flanked by Lochan, Callen, Rory, and Tiernan. My heart hammers in my chest. A bird trapped in a cage of ribs. The nerves gnaw at my stomach.
The second we cross the threshold, the clatter of cutlery and chatter dies down. It's as if someone's hit mute on a remote control. Eyes swivel toward us and the stares are knives, sharp and eager to cut. I feel them all, each one an accusation, a whisper of fear. I fight to keep my face as impassive as possible.
And yet, part of me wants to roar back, to unleash the darkness within that simmers just beneath the surface. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, the Morrigan lingers, her presence there, and not there. But I shove that urge deep down; I won't give in to that impulse. I won’t become her.
With every step, I can sense Lochan's solid presence beside me. I know he's still grappling with our new relationship, but I don’t doubt him anymore. There's comfort in knowing he's here, his loyalty a shield that extends to me now.
Lochan moves closer, subtly, a silent message that he's got my back. His actions are a promise. He’s making good on exactly what he’d said he’d be. And in this moment, I draw strength from that, the knowledge that I'm not alone. I will never be alone again.
We find our way to a table, the scrape of chairs deafening in the sudden quiet. Rory, of course, can’t leave the silence alone. It’s not in his nature. He slumps into the chair beside me with a dramatic sigh and stretches his arms out as if he’s just run a marathon.
“Well,” he says, loud enough for half the hall to hear,“that was the most painful walk of my life. Thought I’d have to start signing autographs or dodging tomatoes at one point."
The corners of my mouth twitch despite myself. It’s such a Rory thing to say—stupid and over-the-top but weirdly effective. A ripple of laughter comes from somewhere behind us; maybe someone actually found it funny. Or maybe they’re laughing at him. Either way, it takes a sliver of pressure off my chest.
"Careful," I murmur, leaning just close enough that only he hears, "someone might take you up on that tomato idea."
"I do love tomatoes," he snorts back, grinning widely now.
"You can’t help yourself, can you?" Lochan mutters as he slides into the seat across from us. His tone is dry, but there’s something softer under it, like even he can’t help being amused.
Callen and Tiernan flank the table next, their movements precise and deliberate, like two guards taking position. Callen’s eyes scan the room briefly before settling on me, his nod subtle but reassuring. Tiernan doesn’t bother with reassurances—he simply sits close enough that our shoulders almost touch, his presence grounding in its own silent way.
