The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 403

Liora’s POV

Callum’s hand slid into my hair and the other pressed flat against the small of my back, gently pulling me away from the floor, just enough to tease the hem of my shirt. He pulled back for air, barely giving us both a chance to inhale before our mouths were slanting over each other once more.

My lips parted. Callum’s tongue slid in easily, without hesitation, swirling around mine like he had done it a thousand times before.

At some point, his hands found the hem of his own hoodie. He pulled back, sitting up on his knees so he could drag it over his head, and then his shirt came with it.

A small sound rumbled in my throat when I saw him kneeling there, breathing hard, looking down at me like… that.

I already knew Callum was built the way he was. It was hard not to notice, given what had happened that night in the training center what felt like an eternity ago.

But knowing that it was right there, just out of reach but that I could never close the distance, and having him moving closer to me rather than further away were two very different things.

He came back down to me and I pressed my palms flat against his chest, not to shove him back, but to feel. To touch the shift of muscle underneath the smooth, tanned skin. To savor the warmth and solidness and realness, and to trace my hands down slowly, learning the planes of him.

As I explored without reservations, his mouth moved to my neck. I tipped my head back and let him. When his hands found the hem of my sweater, I lifted my arms without being asked, and the sweater came off and landed on the floor.

The bra went next, and then his mouth dipped lower, tongue swirling around the nipple so it peaked in the cool air. I gasped and tangled my fingers in his hair, drawing him closer to savor the feeling of his mouth against my breast.

Eventually, his hands moved to the waist of my jeans. He paused there, and I felt his fingers skim along the waistband, checking with me without asking outright. I nodded, and he began to work the button loose.

He was careful. More careful than he needed to be, maybe, but he moved slowly, tracking every shift in my expression, and when he reached my bandaged leg he slowed down further. His fingers trailed lightly along the edge of the bandages, and his jaw tightened.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he said quietly. “I keep thinking about it. If I had just gotten there sooner instead of letting her stop me—”

“Callum.”

He looked up.

“Later,” I said. I reached up and curled my hand around the back of his neck. “We can talk about it later. Not right now.”

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