With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(65)
“My sweet, greedy queen,” he muttered, his voice rough and satisfied as his palm moved away but his fingers moved in. Finding her instantly they twitched and vibrated until she shoved her face in his neck, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ground into his fingers.
She was panting gently against his skin when his fingers plunged inside her, stroking tender but deep.
“God, I love the feel of you,” he whispered adoringly, the tone of his words Sonia missed as she focused on the beautiful tension gathering around his fingers. “Are you going to come for me, little one?”
“Yes,” she breathed, pressing to meet his strokes.
His fingers drove deep and stilled as his thumb hit the core of her, pressing and twitching and the tension built swiftly then exploded magnificently.
After, she instantly relaxed into his body as the calm of her post-orgasm and Callum’s warm frame enveloped her, making her feel safe.
“So wet,” he muttered, his fingers still toying with her tenderly as she drifted slowly to sleep in his arms. “The times are few, Sonia, when I regret my calling as king. But right now, with you in my arms like this, so f**king sweet, so f**king wet, I’d give anything to be able to stay here with you and eat you clean instead of having to walk down those stairs.”
“Mm,” was all Sonia could say, having no idea that Callum had not ever shared with a living being any regrets about his royal duty. He’d further never been tempted by anything enough actually to consider, even for an instant, avoiding that duty.
The next second, the throbbing still there, with renewed and intensely more delicious vigor that lulled her body, Sonia fell asleep with Callum’s fingers still playing between her legs.
* * * * *
Sonia woke, her eyes opening to see her pillows and thoughts of yesterday, last night and this morning crashed painfully into her head.
Her body under the covers that were tucked snug around her went rigid.
“Oh my God,” she breathed to the pillow.
She felt the ache in her muscles, the insistent throb between her legs and every inch of her skin grew hot with shame when she remembered last night (both times but especially the second time) and this morning (good goodness!).
She closed her eyes tight and turned her flaming face into the pillows as Callum’s words of last night echoed in her ears.
“My glorious queen, I told you we’d have a beautiful life, you and I.”
And she had lain under him, listening to those words, her legs spread brazenly wide to receive him, her body glorying in his weight pressing her into the bed, him still seated deep inside her, filling her full as she drifted into an exhausted sleep of deep abandoned contentment.
And she’d not wanted to lose him, his weight, his warmth, his shaft filling her full, making her feel whole.
“My glorious queen, I told you we’d have a beautiful life, you and I.”
Memories, sharp and stabbing, filled her head.
Yesterday morning, Callum claiming her and then practically forgetting about her for hours.
Yesterday afternoon, Callum telling that poor, sick, clearly demented woman she was “just a f**k” while Sonia, his mate, his supposed wife, sat in his lap facing his ex-lover.
He’d even rubbed his temple against Sonia’s hair, making it clear to the woman, who was obviously hung up on him (and not in a healthy way), not to mention everyone in that room, that Sonia was better in bed than she was. This deepening Desdemona’s humiliation to uncharted levels not to mention Sonia’s.
Then he and his people laughed and joked at Desdemona’s panicked struggles and Callum’s sentence for her to be “sequestered”. Even Ryon, who Sonia thought was a considerate man. Whatever sequestered was but clearly, whatever it was wasn’t good.
And Sonia’s place, her role, as silent succor to Callum. There for nothing more than him to use her “sweet little body” when he needed to work out his day.
It wasn’t medieval
It was…
It was…
She didn’t even know what it was!
And the things he’d said to her last night, about gagging for it, gagging for him.
And Yuri.
And Gregor!
And what they’d heard and Yuri had seen.
And the things she’d learned from them.
And that morning, oh God, that morning, sitting in his lap and letting him toy with her like she was his plaything.
No, she didn’t let him, she’d practically asked him.
She did ask him!
A beautiful life? He called that a beautiful life?
More memories flooded her mind, these at war with the first.
Yesterday morning, Callum, sexy and sweet, just like her dream Callum, teasing her in bed before he’d seduced her and, for that matter, after, if only for a short time.
Yesterday afternoon, Ryon, Caleb and Calder chatting to her like they’d known her for ages. Like she was a member of their family already. Like she wasn’t weird or strange. Like she fit in.
And both times Callum tucked her hand, which was held safe in his, under his arm. Drawing her nearer. Offering his strength when she was frightened in the throne room and upset while facing Gregor and Yuri.
And, looking back at it, last night on the drive home and when they arrived at her house, Callum’s hilariously strained patience at dealing with her when she was in a snit (before he became an arrogant bastard who said hideous things, that was).