Page 97 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

“Nay,” he said, his lips against the side of her neck.

“Come!” Jory commanded.

“If this is the only chance I get to be with you, Jory, I’m going to savor it.”

“It’s not,” she panted. “It won’t be.”

He groaned and she squealed as another frisson of sensation rocked her.

“Come, Callum. Please, please,please,come. I need you to come. Ineedit,” she begged.

She felt the scrape of his fangs against her neck and shivered. They didn’t frighten her. Not anymore. They were just another part of him, no more capable of violence without his bidding than his hands or his brain.

“Only just beginning,” she said with a gasp, leaning to the side so that she could kiss him.

“Beginning,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. She felt the words against her lips and smiled, kissing him.

He slowed, thrusting steadily and with force, but not as lost to desperation as he had been. And with a groan, he came. She felt his cock pulse within her and smiled.

She felt him ease away and said, “No. Not yet. Stay with me a while.”

With his teeth against her neck, he said, “I’m nae going anywhere, mo ghraidh. Never again.”

Later, Jory lay in Callum’s arms in his bed. Callum had called Nat to pick them up, and Nat had had the good grace to not say a word as he drove them home, though Jory had seen him blush from his collar to the tips of his ears when he’d realized what had happened.

They’d showered and washed the saltwater away. Callum had shampooed her hair with firm, gentle fingers and she’d sighed, tipping her head back as the hot water ran over them both.

She lay on her side now, her head on his chest, playing lazily with his fingers.

“How are you?” Jory asked him when he’d gone quiet.

“Hungry,” he said. But as soon as he had, he went tense beneath her.

She shifted, raising up to prop on her elbow, looking down at him. He stared up at her, a guarded look on his face.

She lifted her wrist and placed it against his lips.

“Jory,” he said, his eyes wide.

“You’re hungry,” she said. “Eat.”

“I can go get some elk blood from the fridge,” Callum said. “You dinnae have to?—”

She cut him off by pressing her wrist harder against his lips gently. “Callum, you’re hungry. Eat.”

“You cannae want this,” he protested, holding her wrist in his hands as gently as he would a baby bird.

“Don’t tell me what I want. You’re hungry. I can feed you. I want to feed you.”

“You are nae afraid anymore?”

She shrugged. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I willnae hurt you. I willnae take too much,” he insisted. “I swear to you, Jory. I am not the man I was that night.”

“Shhhh,” she said. “I know. I know.”

A tortured look crossed his face, like a starving man faced with a feast that he couldn’t believe was set for him.