Goddess, that nickname.
I’ve never been one for pet names or endearments, but it fits just right in his low, graveled voice. And it doesn’t do anything to help the situation. It only makes me want to be closer to him. To kiss him. To bite him. To devour—
“Let’s see if I can help you with that.”
It might just be the sweetest suggestion I’ve ever heard.
Callum takes my lips again, kissing me with slow, seductive strokes, tongue teasing and coaxing and learning every inch of me. His hands trace over my back, my hips, the curve of my ass, pulling me closer to him. Against my lower belly, the hard ridge of his erection is as tempting as ever, but when I try to shift higher and get the pressure of it just where I want, I’m yanked back down by a firm grip on my leg.
His tail.
Smooth and warmer than I thought it would be, he uses it to hold me in place, to keep me in check, to make sure he has all the control here.
I’m equal parts frustrated and so, so turned on.
I buck against him, test how strong his tail’s hold really is, and am rewarded by another rough growl. Callum pulls his lips from mine, breathing hard.
“I said I’d help, witch,” he says, and though the words come out laced with that same ragged, rough tone, his crimson eyes sparkle. “You can’t wait even long enough to let me try?”
“No,” I tell him, just because I can’t help being contrary.
Another rumble in his chest, a quick maneuver with his arms and tail, and my back is up against his front again. I gasp, and his hand settles over my mouth.
“Quiet,” he reminds me, and I nod.
I can be quiet.
If he gives me what I want, he won’t hear a peep out of me.
Ass against his erection, I grind on him until he gets the hint.
Callum presses his lips to the side of my neck, fangs pricking my skin, and his free hand settles low on the curve of my belly, fingers sliding under the waistband of my sleep shorts.
He unwinds his tail from around my leg, and it creeps up, up, up the inside of my thigh, to the crease of my shorts and the insignificant barrier of my thong. All the way to the juncture where—if he presses just an inch or two forward—he’ll find out just how wet I am for—
“Star,” Callum breathes. “Fuck. Is that all for me?”
With his hand still pressed to my mouth, I can’t exactly answer him, but I doubt I’d be able to form a coherent thought anyway as he dips his tail into me.
Just a little.
Just the tip.
Letting me feel him.
Not satisfied with how much of me he can access, he slips my shorts and panties down my legs.
I moan into his palm, and he nips at the side of my throat before kissing the small hurt, murmuring into my skin.
“Be quiet,” he reminds me again, taunts me again. “Unless you want your friend and her mate to hear exactly how much you like my tail in you.”
As if to test my ability to meet that challenge, he presses in further. I stretch around him. Full, so fucking full, even from just the first couple of inches.
And if that incredible pressure wasn’t enough to already have me racing toward an orgasm, he slides his free hand further down, down, down, until his fingers brush against—
My ragged cry catches in my throat, and this time I’m glad for his hand over my mouth. I don’t think I’d be able to control the noises coming out of me otherwise.
It’s too much.
