Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It was nice not to have to talk.
In words.
Feeling someone else’s body heat against your own was a kind of conversation, an exchange that amplified the warmth and kept you cozy even after the real fire had died down. And, yes, he had to go back to the big house and make sure Mayhem was doing what he was supposed to. But he wasn’t leaving. Not quite yet.
He wished it was not ever—
Callum shifted his shoulders so they could look into each other’s eyes. And when the gaze of the wolven moved down to Apex’s mouth, it was clear what was coming. Or at least what was being considered.
“Whatever you want,” Apex whispered. “And it can be nothing at all.”
The wolven sat up and hovered his hand over Apex’s pecs—in a way that reminded him of what he himself had done outside with the other half of the male.
When that palm finally lowered, it landed on his sternum, right over his heart. Apex’s breath caught—and stayed in his throat—as the hand slowly moved down onto his belly. There it stayed, going up and down, as he started to pant.
Of course he hardened; there was no hiding the thick length that made a bulge in the front of his leathers.
Abruptly, Callum leaned forward, and though Apex got himself ready to be kissed, that was not where those lips went. He felt them on the side of his throat, just a soft brush. And then another. And then . . . the caress of that mouth went lower, to the V formed by his fleece and the t-shirt under it.
Meanwhile, the wolven’s touch was drifting around, going to Apex’s hip, to his upper thigh . . . to his inner thigh.
When he moaned, there was no keeping that on the DL, either. He did try, though. He didn’t want this spell to be broken—and not just because he was so fucking turned on. If he could help Callum heal? And this was part of it so the male could move on?
Well, wasn’t he a Good-goddamn-Samaritan, even though this was going to kill him in the long run—
“Fuck,” he groaned as Callum made a pass across his lower abdomen.
At least he knew better than to reach for the male: He planted both his palms on the floor, making sure they stayed put even as his hips rolled with anticipation.
Tug. Tug. Tug . . .
His fleece was pushed up, and the t-shirt, too—and then it was skin on skin, the wolven’s palm sliding across his bare flesh, just under his waistband. And now Callum was moving in between his legs.
He was more than happy to make room.
Especially as there were two hands on him, running up the insides of his legs. Yet the spot where he needed contact the most was avoided. Biting his lower lip to keep the protest in—
Tug. Tug. Tug . . .
Oh, fuck yes, on his button fly this time.
As shit went nuclear in his veins, and his cock developed its own heart rate, he wanted to stay connected to the higher purpose of this, namely that whatever was happening was part of some kind of vital healing for a male who dearly deserved it. Unfortunately, that clarity was hard to keep front and center as the subtle pulling and pushing while those buttons were freed just about had him busting his nut—
He didn’t wear boxers. No briefs, either.
Certainly not a thong.
So there was a moment, just a moment, when those fingers touched his erection. And right after that, there was a cool sensation on his hot shaft.
Apex glanced down his chest. The sight of the wolven bending over his partially exposed arousal nearly had him coming.
So he squeezed his eyes shut.
“This is you,” Callum said roughly. “This is your body.”
“Yes, fuck, yes . . .”
Tug. Tug. Tug . . .
Always three. And this time, it was his pants getting pulled down. To be obliging, he lifted his pelvis—and away they went, to his knees.
He risked a glance. His erection lay, thick and hard and ready, up his belly, and Callum seemed transfixed, those gleaming eyes locked on the sex that had come alive for him, and him alone.
“You’re . . . what’s that word in your language?” Callum murmured. “Phearsom?”
Good thing the male came up with the answer. Apex wasn’t sure of his own name at this point—
The wolven’s tongue licked his lips. And then came the bend: Callum lowered his head and leaned forward—
“I’m gonna fucking come,” Apex moaned.
“That’s the plan.”
Don’t think too much about any of this, Callum told himself.
The warning was necessary because he didn’t trust his mind not to cough up something awful and ruin the moment. And he had waited a long time for this reconnection. He’d done this with the vampire once before, back in the past, prior to all his trauma. That hookup had been meant to be a beginning. Instead, it had been a farewell.