Maeve. Whole, unhurt, and here. I rush to her, unable to feel the floor beneath my feet.
For a brief moment, nothing else exists.
Nothing else matters.
She is safe.
She is here.
“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on?” she asks, her eyes frantically searching my face and body, checking for physical wounds. I collide with her, wrapping my arms around her, holding her close as the trembling fear turns into relief. The adrenaline coursing through me begins to dump, causing my entire body to shake uncontrollably. I nuzzle my face into her neck, taking a deep breath.
I hear the door behind me close, and I know we are alone now. The sob that racks my body is violent, but Maeve holds onto me tightly. I hold onto her like she’s my only lifeline, and my knees give way beneath me. I descend to the floor, and she keeps her arms around me, sinking with me. She runs her fingers through my hair as she whispers in my ear.
“Shhh, I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m okay,” she says gently, her voice like silk. I try over and over to remove the visions of her battered and bruised body. The way she’d looked when I found her in that disgusting house is burned into my brain. She was so close to death. The thought of those scum getting their hands on her again is too much.
But they didn’t. She’s here. She gently places a palm on each of my cheeks and forces me to look at her. Her eyes are red and puffy, and silent tears are spilling down her face.
“Mae…” I start to speak, but my voice betrays me as it splinters. I begin to take in every detail. My hands run over the top of her head to her shoulders, down to her hands, and I grab them both, bringing them to my lips and holding them there with firm pressure.
“Cal, talk to me, baby. Please, talk to me.”
But I can’t reply. I just take her in. Every crease, every curve. She gazes at me steadily as I examine her, taking account of every freckle, mole, scar — scars she should have never received.
With a deep breath in, I attempt to explain.
“I… I thought they had you, Maeve.” My voice crumbles as her name rolls off my tongue, another vision flashing in my mind. Her wrists bound, her chest unmoving. “I thought I’d lost you again. Maeve, I can’t do this without you.” I drop my head onto her shoulder and break once more. I hate that I’m being so fucking weak, but… it’s Maeve.
“Shhh, I’m safe. You’re safe. We’re safe,” she coos, like a song stuck on repeat. Her hand rubs along my back, up and down, up and down. I don’t know how long we sit like that. She never once pushes, never once tells me to suck it up and be a man.
Before I realize it, the fear in my body leaves raw anger in its place. I feel that familiar shift. The one she has never seen before. Her eyes widen just the slightest bit as she watches me stand.
Within mere seconds, I have my lips on hers, lifting her just enough to have her feet off the ground. Her back slams into the wall harder than I intended, knocking a painting from the wall, but I don’t slow down.
The beast within me is raging to be released from its cage, hungry and ravenous.
Maeve claws at the dress they put her in, which is held on with about a dozen clips to fit her slimmer frame. I can’t wait any longer, and I pull the sides so hard I rip it down the back of the skirt, clips flying.
I grab a handful of her plump ass, lifting her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. She’s still pinned against the wall, only now my chest is pressing firmly against hers. I revel in the feel of her bare, hardened nipples pressed into me. I want to get even closer, to be touching every part of her.
She’s clawing at my clothes now, ripping the front of my shirt off, buttons flying in every direction. I smile against her lips, but I don’t falter in my movements.
I pull at my belt, but she’s one step ahead of me, undoing the button on my pants, letting them drop to my ankles. She starts to push my boxer briefs down, but I’m one step ahead of her. In one fluid motion, my briefs go down, and I slide her lacy thong to the side, feeling just how ready, how wet she is for me. I slide in until I’m buried in her. My cock is so hard, so sensitive. I can feel her clenching around me.
I hesitate when I hear Maeve’s cry of pain, but it’s followed by a hiss and her hand on the back of my neck, pulling me to her. I kiss up and down her neck, licking at her skin with my tongue. She’s moaning so loud that anyone on this floor can hear. I become animalistic, feral for her. My pace is rhythmic, then chaotic, my need for her clouding all control. I can’t get close enough.
“Callum,” she breathes heavily, her voice laced with desire as she digs her nails into my back so deeply, surely leaving marks that will give way to scars. Good. I'd gladly bear her mark.
“OH, GOD! Callum… I’m so close. Right there, yes. Oh, Fu—” her orgasm cuts her words short, and I feel her tighten around me, making my body respond, my thrusts becoming harder. I slow down, trying to hold on, but feeling her pull me closer was my undoing.
I’m boneless, breathless. Her body is limp as we try to collect ourselves. We stare into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. I slowly release her legs, holding her steady until she stands. She stares at me with those beautiful, green eyes, hooded with sated desire, and I’m captivated. All I can do is stare back, knowing that we have now bared our souls to each other, seen each other completely. And part of me is afraid, because I no longer own myself.
I belong to her.
Chapter 20
Maeve
Phthartic (adj) deadly; destructive
