Page 106 of Reign

“Yes, yes, we’re coming!” Eden answers and soon, the two of them shuffle out of Callie’s bedroom, so uncomfortable in their fancy-ass frocks I want to bust out with belly laughter. Not wanting to lose my balls so soon after recovery, I amend by saying, “You girls look great.”

“Awesome. Let’s get this over with so I can find my sweatpants,” Eden says.

They head to the door, attempting to corral Callie on the way.

“Hang on,” I say to them. All three heads turn.

Damn. It’s eerie how much these girls mirror each other’s movements now. Is this what death and trauma does to a group?

“What?” my sister barks when I’m momentarily speechless.

“Callie stays with me for a minute. We’ll meet you guys downstairs.”

“What happened to the crankasaurus who wanted us in our finest so we could get this shit over with?” Eden asks.

“He needs a minute,” I retort, and leave it at that.

“Go,” Callie says to the girls. “We’ll be right down.”

They’re not happy about it, and I’m confident I hear “shirtless hypocrite” muttered from one of their mouths, but they leave.

“What?” Callie asks. She moves her hands to her hips. “Do you need help buttoning your shirt? Dad, Lynda, and Blair are waiting. If we want to make the ceremony, we should—”

“Take the dress off.”

Callie’s mouth falls open. Before she can question me, I prowl toward her, reaching around for her zipper, or buttons, or whatever holds this royal purple fuck me gown in place.

“Chase, don’t! We have to—” Her words are cut off with a kiss, one her lips go supple for instantly.

She groans, batting at my bare chest but not putting much effort into it.

Our tongues dance and grind, but instead of giving into the bliss, I pop one eye open and continue wrestling with the back of her dress. Goddamnit. I can’t—it won’t—

Fuck this.

I break off the kiss, lift her skirts, and place her thong-clad ass on the kitchen counter.

“Chase!” she cries. Mugs rattle on their tree.

I give her one last, searing, biting kiss, then coax her until she’s lying flat. “I want your pussy, I want it now. Oh, and I’m thirsty.”

Callie struggles onto her elbows. “What? Oh, g—” Her head falls back, that incredible hair cascading, as soon as I push my tongue into her folds and play with the hood of her clit.

“Mm,” I say into her sweetness, then lick for more.

She cries out, her legs swinging up and pretzeling around my neck, her fingers tangling into my hair to bring me deeper. I do as she requests, diving and twirling my tongue, using my digits to spread and stroke her, until she writhes beneath my mouth, each moan and mewl escaping those pert lips sending my cock higher and higher.

There’s not much more I can take. I push off, though I’m still parched and starving for her, to undo my belt and pants. Tossing them somewhere, I then palm my dick, aligning it to her perfectly.

She spreads her legs, as if my cock isn’t a magnet to her pussy and couldn’t find her anywhere.

“Are you wet for me?” I say, though her folds shine with both my saliva and her juice. I just want to hear her say it.

“Yes.” When I don’t move, she growls, “Goddammit, yes, Chase, now fuck me like you promised you would or I’ll just get myself off while you watch!”

“Don’t you dare,” I growl, then sink into her.

Callie’s palms smack against the granite as she spreads her arms wide and tilts her chin to the ceiling, accepting my dick like a sex goddess in benediction.

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