Page 158 of The Wolf King

My back is flush to Callum’s chest, and his arm is slung possessively over my waist. He snores gently in my ear.

I want to stay where I am, but I need to relieve myself, so I try to disentangle myself from him.

He growls once, his eyes still closed.

“Get off me, you brute,” I whisper, not bothering to suppress my smile as I remember the first time we were in this position—just after Callum had taken me from Sebastian’s castle.

He grunts, and I wriggle free.

Not wanting to dress yet, I pull on Callum’s big shirt, letting it hang down to my knees. I crawl out of the tent and relieve myself behind a bush nearby.

When I’m done, I wander onto the shore and look out at the rippling grey waters of the loch.

I shiver; the air is bitingly cold. The wind whips my hair, and the pebbles are cold and hard beneath my bare feet. The sky is grey, and rain might be coming.

Yet I smile.

The water laps the shore near my feet. All I can hear is my own breathing, and the gulls that swoop down to the water to catch fish.

I am happy.

I am safe.

I amfree.

There’s a crunch of pebbles behind me. I do not turn around. I can sense him. Smell him. He hooks an arm around my waist, and nuzzles the back of my neck.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I say, my breath misting in front of my face.

“Aye. Just wait until we get to Highfell.” He nibbles my earlobe. “The mountains and lochs around here are small wee things in comparison.”

He slips a hand beneath my shirt and runs his hand along my stomach. I’m aware of his hard length, pressing against my lower back.

“You seem to be missing your clothes,” I say.

“Aye. Imagine my horror when I went to get dressed only to find my shirt was gone.”

I giggle. “So that is why you came outside completely naked. You were looking for your shirt?”

“Oh, aye. Luckily, I have found the thief.” He nips my ear with his teeth and a burst of heat surges through me.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask.

“No.” He runs his hand down my stomach, then slides it between my legs. “Aren’t you?”

He strokes me, and I moan, pressing my head back against his shoulder. His warmth wraps around me, and his fingers stoke a fire in my center. “No,” I whimper.

He rubs slow excruciating circles on the most sensitive part of me, until I cry out with release, my knees buckling.

He throws me over his shoulder. His shirt rides up to my chest, exposing my most intimate parts to the elements.

I squeal. “Callum!”

He chuckles. “What? I’m giving the gulls something to look at.” He taps my bum lightly and I squeal again.

While I’m laughing, my legs flailing over his shoulder, he carries me back to the tent.

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