Page 20 of The Black Table
Sureenough,anyway.
Sure that I’m trembling being this close to him now and not touching him.
And that must be enough, because by way of response, Cal ducks his head to my neck, the nip of teeth followed by a sucking, bruising kiss. The twinge of pain makes me stiffen, and Cal draws back.
“You all right?” he rumbles. His golden eyes are bronzed over with desire, a lock of sandy hair fallen over his forehead.
And for a moment, I want to tell him.
About her.
The girl in class.
The one who…knew me.
Even if she didn’t know me.
But just as quickly, I know I can’t. I know this is something I have to lock deeply, firmly inside me, and let it eat away at my soul until there is nothing left of me.
Because that is who I am, and that is what I do.
I nod—“perfect”—and clutch for him.
We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, harder and harder and firmer, until Cal is pushing me to his armchair and tugging up the hem of my sweater. I work at my belt buckle, frustration and need prickling all over me as his lips feather against my chest untilfinallythe damn thing is gone and I feel the sweet press of his hand around me. One long, slow stroke, and then another, and already my hips are bucking and tensing with the need for release. I grit my teeth, fighting for control as Cal rips away from a kiss to sweep his tongue over the callused skin of his palm, and shudder as he returns it, slick but gentle, to my cock.
“Why do you make mewaitlike this?” I grumble hoarsely.
Cal’s eyes flash. “Because you like it.”
He slides to his knees, and?—
God, but he’s right.
The undeniable truth about me is that I am an A-plus yearner. I can pine foryears—decades, if I had to, although at twenty years old I haven’t had the runway to test that out yet.
Coming to Caliburn, to Camlann House, should have changed that, should have cut off the neural pathways or whatever and redirected my energy to where it’s best used. Our practice. Our honor. Our brotherhood.
I haven’t been perfect at our vows. Obviously.
The hot flat of his tongue runs over my length, and I shudder.
“Please,” I whisper.
And this time, he obliges.
God forgive me.
It’s Cal’s hair that I grip with my fingers. Cal’s lips sending me over the edge and Cal’s mouth that I flood with heat.
But it’s her face that burns in my mind.
FIVE
GWENNA
Dinner.Finally.
All I have to do is eat this, pass a few more hours, and go to sleep, and I’ll have completed my first day at Caliburn.
