Page 33 of A Courage of the Chosen

My core clenches around nothing, his words and the steam making heat prickle over every inch of me.

“And now I’m about to indulge in that little fantasy while I have the chance.”

The quiet, grumpy man everyone else gets is being shadowed by one who is willing to reveal parts of himself I didn’t know existed. This one right here is hungry for me, and his need is fierce enough that it makes a pulse throb between my legs.

I lean in, eyes fluttering closed and pulse kicking up another gear. I almost fall off the sink when Callahan moves away.

He turns off the water and slowly begins removing his shirt. I watch him, ravenous and panting as his nimble fingers tease each button loose. My breath catches when the last one falls free, exposing his torso.

Defined pecs that flex as he moves. His tattoo curving up over the roundness of his shoulder and down over the left side of his chest. A dusting of dark hair across the middle that trails down the center of his abs, carved by decades of fighting. My hands itch to trace the indents all the way down to the V of his hips that slips beneath his pants, and let the heat of him burn itself into my fingertips.

There are smatterings of scars, paler than his olive complexion, some small, some large, but they all add to who he is. Someone who is strong, resilient, and underneath, caring.

I didn’t get chance to study him on the night I think of as ours. We were too eager to finally give in to this need that had been brewing between us.

And now I get to observe every inch of him.

He’s fucking beautiful.

I’ve always thought so, even when I was fighting my attraction. I was always going to cave. It might have taken years, but I’d have fallen into his lure eventually. And he would’ve fallen into mine. There’s an inevitability to us. We’re too drawn to each other.

A new scar marks Callahan’s stomach, still pink and healing from where Tavish plunged his dagger into him. It’s a stark reminder of how strong Tavish is, and how close I came to losing Callahan.

Had a healer not been nearby, he would have died with how much Dorche magic had been fed into his veins. What still keeps me up at night is the way Callahan found me with shocking focus, seeking me out in what he believed to be his final moments, like he wanted me to be the last thing he looked at before Dhia claimed him.

That thought banks some of the desire lighting a fire inside me.

“I’m here. Right in front of you,” Callahan says, sensing where my thoughts have gone through our bond. “Stay with me. It’s just us right now. No one else matters.”

Callahan discards his shirt, sinew tensing and flexing as he throws it to the side. He kicks off his boots, and his pants are next. He makes as much of a show of removing them as he did his shirt.

No underwear. And fuck if that doesn’t make lust surge back even higher than before, knowing he was sat next to me during that council meeting with nothing beneath his pants.

When he’s fully bared to me, my mouth dries out, and my eyes run from his feet, slowly up his legs, to where the evidence of his desire is on full display. His dick stands long, proud, and hard, the head already damp with pre-come.

I need to taste him like I need the air barely making its way into my lungs. To lick him clean, and watch as he unravels with his cock sliding in and out of my mouth. There’s so much we haven’t had the chance to do, and I plan on making sure we get the time to do it all.

He reads the hunger in my eyes, and gestures with two fingers. “Come get me, then.”

I don’t need asking twice.

He’s gloriously naked as I stand before him. Every sculpted line on display for me, and me alone. I start at his shoulders and trace my hands down his body, running them over the arms roped with muscle, and his trim waist, while I slowly lower myself to my knees.

The hair coating his powerful thighs is soft beneath my fingers where I grip him, and as I glide the tip of my tongue on the underside of his shaft, the black of his pupils completely blot out the swirling gray of his irises.

He’s warm and perfect, and it’s an effort to not rush this. I want to savor this between us before I take him into my mouth for the first time, the way my teasing is making his breath heave in his chest.

The taste of him explodes on my tongue as I reach the head. There’s a clear bead of liquid waiting for me, ready to drop. I sink lower onto my haunches and wait. Mouth open wide, tongue out.

“Fuck,” Callahan rasps as he takes his cock in hand and pumps himself, squeezing the tip so the droplet succumbs to gravity.

When it lands exactly where I want it, I smirk as I swallow it down, moaning softly. His jaw twitches with restraint and I don’t wait for him to make a move. Cupping his balls in my palm, I swat him away from where he still holds himself, and replace his hand with mine.

I take him in with one smooth, wet motion.

Callahan trembles, his whole body quaking with pleasure, and savage satisfaction roars through me.

Mine. He’s mine. Only I can do this to him.