Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)
Callum: Chapter 18

The second Fiona’s lips met Callum’s, she forgot about Kasey and every word that was spoken in that bathroom. She forgot that someone had broken into her home, had a key to her home, and allowed herself to get lost in him.

She slid her fingers through his hair, his locks surprisingly soft. Her lips separated and when he slipped his tongue inside, she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs refused to cooperate.

A moan sounded from somewhere deep inside her, and the second it reached air, Callum growled and lifted her. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around him, her dress scrunching around her waist. God, being pressed against him, having his warmth blanket her, it was like nothing else. Whenever this man held her, whenever the hard ridges of his body pressed against her soft ones, he felt strong and powerful and just a bit like home.

Their tongues melded together as they tasted each other. There was the sound of steps below her as he moved, the brush of air across her shoulders. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know they were in her bedroom.

She reached for the base of her dress and tugged it over her body. All she wore under it was panties, no bra, and the second Callum’s gaze lowered to her chest, his eyes darkened to the shade of a starless night sky.

“You’re so beautiful, Fi.” She didn’t have time to respond before his head lowered and he took one of her pebbled nipples between his lips.

It was instant fire. An immediate eruption of desire and need.

She latched onto his shoulders and threw her head back, feeling every flick of his tongue against her peak. Every swirl and suck. It was torture but it was also heaven. An intoxicating annihilation of the world around her. Her nails dug into his flesh. Too soon, it wasn’t enough. She ground her hips against him.

“Callum…” Her whisper was more of a plea. A desperate call for more of him.

He released her nipple with a pop and lay her on the soft mattress. Then she watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, so devastatingly slowly that she wanted to squirm. Every inch of bronzed skin that came into view had more heat pooling between her thighs. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. It was like someone had crafted him with so much attention to detail that no other person could compare.

When the shirt was gone, he moved on to his slacks, first undoing the button, then the zipper.

The beats of her heart stumbled over each other as her nerves grew to an almost violent vibration in her chest.

He toed off his shoes as he pushed his pants down, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he stood in front of her, in only briefs, looking so damn gorgeous it nearly scared her. He hadn’t been in the plans she’d carefully crafted for herself when she’d moved here. In fact, he was about as far from them as possible. But here and now, he felt so right.

His knee hit the bed beside her, dipping the mattress. Then he lifted one of her heels and unbuckled it before dropping the shoe to the floor. He did the same to the other, and it, too, hit the carpet with a thud. Then he crawled up her body, every inch aligning them together. On his way, he pressed a kiss to her belly, then to a small oval birthmark on her rib cage.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, once he hovered over her.

She cupped his cheek, debating whether to give the truth or a pretty lie. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“Am I a good surprise?”

The corners of her lips tugged up. “The best.”

Then she kissed him again, a slow exploration, while lifting one leg and sliding it behind him, urging him closer. He lowered against her, only their underwear separating them. It made her want to arch. To push into him and feel more.

His hand lowered to her breast, and he cupped her, his thumb running over her nipple. She groaned and writhed, impatient. With two hands, she latched onto his wrist and tugged it down her body, guiding it inside her panties. At the first swipe of his finger down her slit, she bowed up. He did it again, and this time a strangled cry cut through the air.

His mouth lowered to her throat and sucked. “Those sounds destroy me, Fi.”

Then, with a single finger, he entered her and began to thrust in a rhythm so deep and steady, her entire body moved with him. Her hips rose to meet his hand, her breasts bouncing at the action.

“Yes.” She threw her head back and scrunched her eyes, lost in the pressure building inside her. Unable to move or see or breathe.

His thumb worked her clit, his finger continuing its torment while his mouth never left her neck. He nipped and sucked. Pleasure flashed through her from every place he touched.

Then, almost desperately, she slid her hand from his wrist to his briefs and inside to replace his cock. It was long and hard, and it pulsed in her hold, making heat flare up her arm.

Callum stilled and growled, but never removed his finger from inside her. She explored his velvety length, the muscles in his chest bunching and flexing against her breasts at her movements. On every slide of her palm, he grew and thickened. His groans became louder as she became more daring, learning what he liked. What made the muscles in his body harden and his breath shorten.

When a primal growl rippled from his chest, he lifted his head and crashed his lips to hers.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded between desperate kisses.

“I want this,” she breathed. She couldn’t think of a single thing she wanted more in this moment.

He rolled to the side and she let out a strangled cry that was supposed to be a complaint. He lifted his slacks and pulled out his wallet. When she saw the foil in his fingers, her pulse picked up. Then he pushed his briefs down and her breath caught.

He tore the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. His fingers went to her panties and, slowly, he slid them down her legs, his hands grazing her skin. Then he was between her thighs, his tip pressing at her entrance.

“Fiona.” He said her name so softly, it almost didn’t cross the distance. “Say you’re mine.”

She swallowed, touching a hand over his heart, entranced by the fleck of honey in his eyes. “I’m yours.”

His exhale of relief cut through the quiet of the room, then slowly, he entered her. Her legs widened and her walls stretched to accommodate his size, the sensation so agonizingly perfect she could barely get a breath in.

When he was seated completely inside her, she didn’t move. She couldn’t. This man held her prisoner, caged to him and his body.

He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers in a delicate graze. She wrapped her legs around him and tugged him closer, making him sink a bit deeper.

His chest rumbled, and the second the sound hit air, he lifted his hips before pushing back inside her. She cried out, her heart hammering in her chest. He did it again, another thrust of his hips.

His mouth continued to work hers, and as he thrust, he reached down for her breast, his calloused thumb running over her hard peak. Every fear and insecurity fled from her head, ceasing to exist. Because in that moment, Callum carved himself into her heart, and she knew his imprint was there to stay.

Callum’s entire body burned for this woman. That was what she did to him—set him ablaze without a fucking speck of salvation in sight.

His thrusts were deep and even. Every time he returned to her felt like coming home. A home he’d found in her. A sanctuary. He continued to work her mouth, reveling in the way she tasted of wine and sweetness.

He caressed her tight bud with his thumb, her moans making his chest tighten and his gut twist and turn. He swiped a circle around her pebbled nipple, pushing her to the edge, wanting her as damn insane as he felt.

He knew the exact moment she grew close. Felt her walls tighten around him, heard the racing of her heart.

He feasted on her bottom lip before whispering, “Fall, baby.”

It was like his words hit a switch. Her back arched and she screamed as she broke, the sounds like fucking gas on a fire, burning away the memory of everyone who’d come before her.

He kept thrusting as long as he could, but the pulsing of her walls around him was too much. He snapped. Broke so violently and into so many pieces, he couldn’t hold back his growl.

He bucked against her until he had nothing left. Until every part of him was hers.

When he finally stilled, he didn’t immediately part from her. Maybe he couldn’t. He needed to keep her with him for as long as possible.

“That was…amazing,” she breathed.

The laugh bubbled from his chest and spilled over. “You’re amazing.”

One more kiss, then he finally slid out of her and dropped to the side. He didn’t cut the contact, though, instead pulling her against his chest, needing her as damn close as he could get her.

She yawned as her cheek rested on his heated flesh.

“Sleep,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are you scared someone’s going to come in?” she asked, her voice half-asleep.

“No. And you shouldn’t be either. I’m better than any lock, and I can go from dead asleep to awake in seconds.”

“Mm. You make me feel safe.”

His arms tightened, those words making his heart jackhammer in his chest. He wanted her to feel safe with him. Hell, he wanted the woman to need him like he needed her.

His arm remained tight around her as he waited for her breathing to even out. He wanted to remain exactly where he was and hold her all night, but he also had something to do.

Carefully, he slid out from under her. He spent a few minutes cleaning up in the bathroom and putting his briefs back on before returning to the living room with both their phones.

He rewatched the footage of the person entering her house half a dozen times. Pausing. Zooming in. Changing the angle. They were short for a man or tall for a woman, wearing a cap pulled low over their head. Damn, he wished he could see a face.

His phone rang from the coffee table, Liam’s name on the screen. “Hey.”

“Hey, brother. How is she?”

He’d notified his entire team of the intrusion. “She’s okay. Asleep. Did you get the footage?”

“Yeah. Looks like a woman.”

“My thoughts too. Either that, or a small-framed man. They look too tall to be her sister, but I still want to look into the woman a bit more. See if she’s made any trips down here to Cradle Mountain this week.”

Liam blew out a breath. “You really think this could be her?”

“Maybe. She doesn’t like Fiona. I wouldn’t put the messages past her, either. And if she found out Freddie kissed Fiona on their wedding night…” A woman so narcissistic could easily turn unstable.

“Got it. Need anything from me?”

“Not right now, but I might put someone on Amanda just to watch her.”

“Good idea.”

When he ended the call, Callum rose and checked that every door and window was still locked. Not that it mattered, it just added a bit of time if the person tried to get in. Time that would allow him to get up.

Back in the bedroom, he slid beneath the covers and tugged Fiona into his arms. But he didn’t sleep right away. He hadn’t lied to her—he could go from dead asleep to awake and ready for action in the space of a second, but he also didn’t need a whole lot of sleep in general. So instead, he held her. Listened to her breathe, her heartbeat. And he let the silence of the night soothe the storm that raged inside him. Raged because someone was targeting his woman and had breached her home.

One thing he was certain of—whoever this person was, they wouldn’t be getting whatever the hell they wanted from her. He’d make sure of it.