Page 159 of A Courage of the Chosen

Callahan rips it apart. One minute the slinky material brushes delicately against me, and the next my skin prickles in the cooler air.

Only briefly, though, as Callahan begins roaming over every inch of me like it’s the first time he’s touching my body, and is intent on discovering every dip and curve.

He grips the back of my thighs and lifts me effortlessly, moving us further into the living area. I wrap around him, sealing myself to him as tightly as I can, and nip his bottom lip between my teeth. Callahan moans low in his throat, and the sound vibrates through me.

Now there’s nothing left to hide, my body burns for him in a way it’s never sparked for anyone, and the fire lashing through me is all him. It’s gray storms, that say more than his words ever could. It’s pepper-laced amber, more addictive than any drug. It’s love, a warm honey that cloaks every one of my senses.

“Fuck,” I breathe as my husband deposits me on the table we share dinner at most nights.

To my surprise, Callahan untangles himself from my hold, and slowly pulls the chair beneath me out. He lowers into it with predatory grace as I pant on the table with my heartbeat echoing between my legs.

I lean back on my hands to steady myself, my breasts exposed for him, since my wedding dress dictated I couldn’t wear a bra, and the thin lace I’m wearing barely constitutes underwear.

Callahan chuckles as he catches sight of the damp patch growing right where I ache for him the most. “Funny that you wore white, when there’s nothing innocent about what you do to me,” he drawls.

My fingers curl over the edge of the table. “I never claimed to be innocent, husband. Just yours.”

Callahan runs his tongue over his teeth as his pupils dilate, almost blotting out the gray entirely.

“Say that again,” he demands.

“What?” I tip my head to the side, hair spilling over my shoulder. “That you’re my husband?” I spread my legs a little wider, and Callahan’s knuckles turn white where he fists them on his knees.

“No,” he bites out.

“That I’m yours?”

A moan slips from him before he can stop it, and it makes me pant. “That’s how you want to play? Drive me insane so I cave and fuck you on every available surface?”

“Yes, sir.”

If Callahan was hungry for me before, he’s downright feral when those words slip from my mouth.

He leans forward, unbuttoning his jacket to expose the white shirt beneath before removing it. He rolls the sleeves up leisurely, teasing me with first-class forearm porn as his tanned skin shifts with his movement, runic tattoos a stark contrast to the pristine fabric. When he’s satisfied, he braces those powerful arms on his knees, hands dangling between his spread legs.

Mist trickles from the ends of his capable fingers in gossamer streams. Before they reach the ground, they dart for me. I gasp as they make contact, banding around my ankles and tugging my legs as far as they will comfortably stretch, so Callahan can tie the tendrils of his magic to the table. He forms straps across the tops of my thighs while more of his essence secures my wrists where they rest at the edges.

I’m exposed and trapped. And I’ve never been more turned on in my life.

I test my restraints, wiggling beneath them to see if I can get away, they only hold me down harder. He sends more magic straight for my underwear, and just like my dress, he rips that away from my body, too.

“Now what?” I taunt.

His mouth quirks upward on one side, mist spearing for my breasts and my clit at the same time. I groan, head tipped back as Callahan uses his magic to overstimulate the parts of me he’s worshipped since we gave in to each other.

“Oh, Cal.”

“That’s it, baby. Feel me everywhere.”

His pleasure fills me from within, while his magic rolls over my clit and my aching nipples.

The last time he teased me like this, I was too caught up in what was happening to work out that, while my body might not be able to move, I have other tools at my disposal.

My own magic obeys as I command mist to crawl to him. It snakes around his wrists and binds them behind his back while more moves to the buttons keeping the expanse of his chest from my view.

“What are you doing?” he chuckles.

“Evening the playing field.”