We shouldn’t be doing this.
We absolutely, one hundred percent should not be doing this.
Joan and Rhett are right down the hall, and in this old building the doors and walls aren’t exactly soundproof. If this goes any further, if we make any noise, we’ll probably wake them up.
Still, we don’t stop.
We rock together languidly, learning the feel of each other.
Callum is overwhelming.
The immense scale of him. The firm ridges of muscle. The sheer, vital physicality of having him behind me, curved around me, his warmth and his size making me feel small and delicate in comparison.
It’s not a familiar feeling, but not an unwelcome one, either.
Especially when he grinds his cock hard against my ass and reaches up to cup one breast over the thin material of my tank top.
A moan slips out, and Callum’s other hand is there immediately to stifle it.
Pressed lightly to my mouth, he leans in so he can murmur into my ear.
“Quiet, star. You don’t want your friends to hear, do you?”
Hot embarrassment and a naughty thrill rush through me.
I really, really don’t want Rhett and Joan to know what we’re getting up to right now, but not even the threat of being found out is enough to make me stop. I arch into Callum again and graze my teeth against his palm.
But I stay quiet, and that seems to please him. Satisfaction rumbles deep and heavy in his chest, and I pull his hand away from my mouth, rolling in his embrace and surging up to take his lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.
The same magick that grabbed me by the throat the first time I kissed him back in the demon realm overwhelms me again.
It rushes in fast and incandescent and unstoppable, unfurling its tendrils along every vein, every nerve, every damn inch of me as I strain and strain to get closer to him. As I run my tongue over his fang and savor its sharp sting. As I try to wedge my hand between our bodies so I can feel the long, thick weight of him for myself.
“Witch,” Callum mutters, catching my wrist in his big hand. “There’s no need to rush.”
“Speak for yourself,” I whisper-whine against his lips. “I can’t stop. I can’t stop it, this… this…”
How do I even put it into words?
Is this the magick he’s felt the whole time? Since the moment he saw me in the Middle?
How does he stand it?
“I know.” Callum soothes his hand over my hair. “But we’ve got time.”
Do we? Because from where I’m pressed against him, body aching and taut and so goddamn needy I’m ready to jump out of my skin, it doesn’t feel like there’s any time at all.
Arching against him again, I breathe deep, try to get a handle on the racing of my heart and the throbbing between my thighs.
But it’s no use.
On every inhale, I taste him.
Cedar and frost and woodsmoke and leather, an incredible, mouth-watering combination of demon scent that seems tailor-made to rewire my nervous system. One hit, and I’m ready to shove any hesitation or restraint out the window and climb this demon like a tree.
Another little frustrated moan slips out, and Callum answers it with another deep rumble.
“So impatient, my star, aren’t you? Always in such a hurry.”
