Page 36 of A Courage of the Chosen

Then it switched, and I was watching him bleed Cal like he did me, as four Brollachan held him down, and I couldn’t stop Tavish as he tore Callahan’s magic from his core before those beasts began feasting on Cal’s flesh.

Goosebumps spread, as though someone is painting me with a brush that’s been held in freezing-cold water, and I peel my eyes fully open to find nothing out of the ordinary. But the sensation remains, as does the horror of watching Callahan’s eyes turn empty and lifeless.

Bad dream, I tell myself as I wake up a little more and push it to the back of my mind, with all the other things I’m not dealing with right now.

I’m not there. He won’t hold me again.

Early morning sunlight pours in through the gap in the heavy curtains that we drew over the floor-to-ceiling window before we clambered beneath the sheets. I still can’t stand to have them closed wholly, and the rays help chase away the last grip of my nightmare.

We didn’t do much sleeping last night. There’s a throb between my legs that serves as a reminder of all the ways Callahan made me forget everything but the feel of him until the early hours of the morning.

I knew Seelie had a healthy appetite for sex, but he takes it to a new level. The man was ravenous for me, and the moment we’d both finished, he was hardening again. After the fourth round, where he fucked me from behind with my head pushed into the pillows, I told him we were going to sleep. He relented, albeit unhappily, and we drifted off tangled in each other, one limb blending into the next.

It doesn’t feel like two minutes since I closed my eyes, yet the break of day calls, popping the bubble we encased ourselves in last night.

Warmth radiates from behind me, Callahan’s body plastered to mine, our legs entwined together beneath the rumpled sheets. There’s not an inch of him I can’t feel. His breathing is steady, and his chest rhythmically moves at my back.

I shift slowly, prying the arm over my waist away, and gently move the one braced across my chest so that I can see to my needs, and run a brush through what I’m sure is a tangled mess of blond that screams I’ve just spent the night being railed.

Luckily, Callahan doesn’t stir. The only movement from him is the puckering of his brows as I slide away and tiptoe into the bathroom. When I re-enter the bedroom, teeth clean and hair brushed, he’s rolled onto his back, arms splayed either side of him.

With the sheets pooled at his waist, I admire the way his abs shift as he takes deep breaths in and out. I’ve only caught him in deep sleep once before, when I’d woken after my few days of sleep after being Tavish’s captive. He looks so peaceful without the standards he holds himself to pressing down on him. The tense way he holds his jaw is completely relaxed, full bottom lip hanging slightly open as a soft snore escapes him.

I smile as I slip back into the bed without waking him.

He snores again, and a laugh escapes before I can stop it.

Callahan peers at me through lashes still clinging to the last vestiges of sleep. “It’s too early for you to be laughing at me,” he grouses.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “You were snoring. It’s unexpected.”

Frankly, all of him is unexpected.

“Shush you, and come here.” He reaches for me, practically dragging me across the bed so that I’m not only resting on his chest, but fully lying on top of him.

“Much better,” he says, and tightly bands his arms across my back so that I’ve no hope of moving.

The problem with this position is that his length is now nestled against my center. The slightest movement from either of us and it’s going to create friction.

The awareness of how close he is—and the continual recall of what he did last night—makes arousal gather right where Callahan rests.

I’m sore and tired, but it doesn’t stop the need from rising again. It would be so easy to shift and have him slide inside me from this position.

As if sensing my thoughts, even while our connection is quiet, Callahan rolls his hips. It’s subtle, barely even a movement, but it’s enough. The veins on the underside of his cock slide perfectly against my clit.

I press my lips together when he does it again, and I tilt my chin up to look at him where he feigns sleep. But Cal moves a third time, and a tiny exhale leaves my lips that fans against his neck as the corner of his mouth curls upward.

Another shift of his hips and pleasure spikes through me.

“Stop that,” I murmur.

One eye opens, the gray there dazzling in the morning sun. “I don’t know what you mean, I’m sleeping. Which is what you should be doing. Shh now.” He runs a hand through my hair and closes his eyes.

“Sure you don’t.”

The bond snaps between us, and his amusement is a spring breeze, buried beneath the fogginess of being half-awake.

I’m not sure about Callahan’s dating history, and I thought he might be slow to let someone in, but there’s an ease to the way he shows me all sides of who he is.