AllFreeNovel Stories worth discovering

Tears of the Stolen

Page 160

by Jillian Rink

I cut off his coy question with another hard stroke that left him swearing.

“The only name I should hear from your lips when we’re like this in mine.”

I dropped my touch from him.

He surged, twisting us until I was beneath him, my hair falling over the foot of the bed. He had my legs over his shoulders, and his tongue was tracing the sensitive line where my thighs blended with my core.

“This is okay?”

All I could do was moan. I hoped he could tell from the bond that it was more than okay, that he hadn’t scared me.

Outside, there was a commotion, people yelling and fighting, but I ignored them. Anything that needed us would have to wait a bit longer.

Callum ran his lips up one thigh and then the other, leaving tiny love bites every inch or so. I writhed against him, burying my hands in his hair, trying to urge him where I needed him most.

“Sterre,” he whispered against my clit.

Gods, he was right there. I whined, and he smiled.

Then, finally, he licked me, one long, luxuriating lick from my ass all the way back to my clit. My back bowed as I moaned as loud as any pornstar.

“All I want is to taste this every single day,” Callum murmured, his lips moving against my clit. I trembled, tightening my hold in his hair. I was already too close to the edge, and he was just starting.

“Really?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He hummed and licked me again, slower, like he was emphasizing just how much he liked it. His voice was a rough hum. “To have you on my tongue would be enough, Sterre.”

“Callum!”

I jumped at Vincent’s voice, accidentally pulling Callum’s hair. He hissed but shook away the apology I almost voiced.

Three hard, thunderous knocks followed Vincent’s call.

There was more shouting in the hallway.

“It’s my job,” Simeon hissed.

Callum lifted away from me with a heavy frown. His palms were warm brands on my thighs.

“And I am telling you, it needs to be us,” Vincent said with no room for an argument.

There were three more knocks. Any harder, and the door would probably break from its hinges.

“Callum! We need to talk right now.” It was Vincent again. “You need to get her covered.”

Callum was out of the bed before I could even register the words, a drawer of the dresser open. He threw a heavy piece of fabric to me.

“Call—”

“A minute,” he growled, cutting off Vincent’s voice.

It took me a long moment to realize it was the dress I’d worn that first day of traveling. I slowly eased it over my head, breathing in the lingering pine and wisteria still in my hair and on my skin to keep from panicking. Once he confirmed I was covered, he pushed into a set of brown pants. I eased to sitting, pulling my hair over my shoulder as I watched as his fingers flew over the lacing, long and graceful while he tied them enough the pants would stay on his hips.

The door flew open, and I jumped, crawling back up the bed and grabbing the quilt we’d abandoned.

Vincent and Shelby poured into the room first, though Simeon was nearly as fast, his expression one of dangerous displeasure. Behind them were Amaria and Sutton and Phillip, still in standard dress rather than any of his various states of uniform.

Callum ignored them, slipping a tunic over his head and pulling his hair back and then crossing to the bed and doing the same with my hair.