Page 133 of Falling for the Wife

Callum was kissing me.The full on, no holds barred, toe curling, root zapping, earth-shifting kiss I had craved for so long. My God, my imagination had been fully surpassed with how it truly was to be kissed by him.

I knew he was a passionate man, but this—kissing Callum—eclipsed everything I had ever experienced with any man.

Callum cradled my face with his hand while the other held the back of my neck. I groaned wantonly when that hand took hold of my hair and gently pulled it down so my lips inclined to his, aiming for deeper strokes.

Piece by piece, his kiss soothed my wounds. It lulled my punctured heart and my lost hope was instantly revived. Each kiss was carnal, rushed and yet precise to make me burn hotter. It compelled me to yearn for all of him. That gnawing ache only growing. What little shield I had placed to distance myself, vanished.

Callum’s lovemaking rendered me an addict.

His heated touch brought a feral aphrodisiac.

However his kiss took the prize because it simply was, undeniably, my most omnipotent weakness of all.

It unequivocally changed me.

A sexy, hungry, humming sound came from him as he applied more pressure in his kiss. It didn’t help with my beyond peaked, stimulated senses.

Pressing my aching breasts against his hard chest, I let my hand inside his jacket and wandered south. My fingers slowly lavished on his honed body as it enjoyed each ridge of his chiseled abdomen. I held my breath as it travelled lower, heading towards the nether region.

Callum made another throaty, aching noise when he felt my hand softly kneading his balls and the base of his shaft. “I ache to be inside you,” he spoke against my lips. “But we have to wait until we get home. I want to taste you slowly.” He pressed his hips harder against my hand. “I want to savor that first stroke, that feeling as I enter your slick pussy, fitting me like a glove.”

Dammit. “You want me to wait until we get home after you just illicitly described all that? You must be nuts!” I didn’t want to sound desperate or like some trollop who was in dire need of a scratch, but hell, what did he expect when he’d ravished me on the spot?

“We have to get through tonight. I promise, once we step inside the bedroom, I’m going to seize your body until your mind is shut off and all you can dois feelme taking everything from you. I want to fuck you like I’m robbing you of your pride, your rights and your ability to object from the abuse your getting from my cock.” Callum gave me a soft kiss, measured and calculated, before he drifted his gaze into my gray ones. “I want you smothered by it, by me. All of me…” he murmured, thumb grazing my bottom lip. “I need you to need me… as much as I you.”

Ididneed him, but to a much grander scale. However, I didn’t voice that out.

Callum held me awhile, lips pressing against my forehead as we tried to lower down our libidinous bodies. Though we didn’t speak, the silence we shared was a comfortable one. Moments like these I treasured greatly. It was simple, uncomplicated and sweet.

Even with all these people here for the event, this tiny corner was hidden and tucked away from prying eyes.

Sighing softly, I brushed my lips against the side of his neck, kissing it.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at me with passion in his eyes.

Yeah, we definitely lit each other up with kisses. “Ready,” I responded with dizzy excitement. With shaky legs, Callum held me as he guided us inside the grand soiree.

It was electrifying to see him look at me this way… and the things he mentioned earlier about needing him... One way or another, I somehow had made a dent in his armor. The dent might be small, but I hoped the impact was long lasting.

I hoped…with that look in his eyes, I sure did hope… that maybe—just maybe—it would work out between us.

? S

The Claridge’s Ballroom was a marvel of pristine white surroundings, cream tablecloths, hints of gold with mirrors placed strategically throughout the room to imbibe that refreshingly light, airy feel. It had that Victorian era influence meshed with modern Art Deco; the end result was an astonishing splendor.

After our kiss, everything seemed to rush past me. When Callum introduced me to some of his acquaintances, I didn’t even bother trying to register their names in my brain. Nothing mattered then except for him; for I truly and devastatingly, was swooning and spinning about in my own dreamland.

Once we were seated accordingly, we both got engrossed talking to the other guests that we were sharing a table with. No one seemed to mind or question my relations with him. For that I was relieved. It would be rather awkward to say that I was engaged to him and yet, in reality, I was ecstatic because my pseudo fiancé had just managed to kiss me and turned me into a lovesick idiot.

I think my idiotic meter skyrocketed when his hand reached for mine underneath the table, resting out intertwined hands on my thigh. I couldn’t help giving him a glance, smiling as I did so. When I did, I wasn’t even surprised that Callum kept with his conversation without paying heed to me, but his sweet gesture made sure I knew that he was aware that I was right next to him and that he wasn’t ignoring me at all.

I liked this about him. A lot.

It took every ounce of concentration not to drag Callum away from the table and find a secluded area to ravish him there, so that I could get rid of all this pent-up, boiling hot, spinning out of control need to devour him. Social obligations were a bore. I was simply grateful that the woman who sat next to me wasn’t.

Speeches were given. Dinner was served. We were all waiting on our coffees and pastries to be served when conversations began again. I was so engrossed in my conversation with Mrs. Chambers that I had forgotten about Callum for the moment.

He became quiet and when I checked at where his gaze traveled, it placed me in a deflated mood. Five tables ahead, Zara and Charles were seated. Still, I managed to give him an understanding smile.

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