Page 29 of Their Trials

While I was busy with the rope, I saw Callum’s hands moving before the scene beneath me changed, revealing a quicksand pit. “It was covered by a glamor. I’d have felt it if I had been first.” Now, I regretted giving him his space. If nothing else, I should have continued to let him lead the way instead of charging heedlessly ahead.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I had the rope coiled in my shaking hands. I tossed one end to Callum, who caught it effortlessly. He wrapped his end around his waist, securing it behind him before grabbing the end leading toward me with both hands.

He leaned back into the rope, sitting on the tension in the line and used his full body weight to pull. I held to my end as tightly as I could, wrapping it around my palms to keep it from slipping. Slowly, I felt my body being suctioned out of the mud, the pressure that had been pressing down on my lower half relieved in minute degrees. My fingers and hands burned as the rope squeezed painfully before slipping from my fingers, leaving my hands raw and burned and causing Callum to fall on his ass.

Of course, as inappropriate as it was, I laughed loudly at the sight of Callum sprawled out on the ground without warning. My nerves about the situation were getting the best of me. “I'm so glad you think this is funny,” he groused as he stood, dusting off his fine ass.

Yes, I noticed his ass. If I was going to die, I'd like to have a nice view before I left this plane of existence. And what a stunning view it was, plump and round, firm enough to bounce a quarter off it, flexing as he moved. What I wouldn’t give to bite down on that thick piece of meat, my mouth salivating at the thought.

He threw the rope at me this time. “Here. Catch.” As it landed between my raw hands, he told me, “Now tie it around you this time. There's no way you can hold the rope while I pull.”

I did as he instructed, looping the rope around my waist for the second time that day. God, had it only been a day? It felt like we'd been stuck in this damn maze for a week.

Once I had it knotted in place, he continued, “Now, lean forward and try to lay as flat to the ground as possible. This will help distribute your weight and hopefully slow down the sinking process.”

“Hopefully?” I questioned him while doing as he said.

“Do you have any better ideas?” he snarked back at me.

Nope. I did not. My newfound magic was unable to help me in this situation. I sent up a prayer to whatever God would listen, not ready to die yet as I watched Callum strain against the pull of the ground, his biceps flexing with each tug. His muscles danced under his pale skin at the effort he was exerting, his face scrunched in concentration.

He surely was a beautiful man, all muscles and alpha male attitude. Helping me even though I aggravated him to no end because he was a good man beneath the gruff exterior. My study of the man before me, who was currently doing everything in his power to pull me from the mess I'd found myself in, calmed my mind. I knew he wouldn't rest until he'd done everything he could. Somehow, that was enough for me.

My muscles slowly relaxed as I felt my body slide, oh so slowly, across the ground in front of me. For some reason, my torso and hands weren't sticking like my feet had. His idea of distributing my weight was working, keeping any part of me from sinking at the point of contact. I struggled to keep any part of me from bending too much and creating a focal point that the dirt could suction down on, starting the process all over again.

I knew I was without a doubt getting dirt all over me and in places that would need to be washed thoroughly upon our return to the Castle. The sand slipped inside every seam and opening, clinging to my sweat laden body and chafing me. I'd rather be dirty and alive than dead and pristine.

As I slid slowly closer to him, he grunted out with the effort, and I couldn't help but wonder if he made the same noises when fucking someone. The mystery caused me to think about fucking him and what it would be like. I wanted those strong hands all over my body, taking control as his thick arms threw me around until I was right where he wanted me.

I was certain he’d be as intense in bed as he was with everything else. I could imagine his deep voice making demands of me while he spoke dirty words in my ear, thrusting into me from behind. How he would hold me by my throat as I struggled against him, not allowing me to control the situation in any way, and only giving me what I needed once I had fully submitted to him.

With a final grunt and pull on the rope, which bit into my hips painfully, I was able to reach solid ground with my hands, close enough for him to grab me. I knew for certain I would have bruises all over my hips by the end of the day, I just wished they were for other reasons instead.

His rough hands wrapped around mine, the rope having burned his hands, too, as he'd struggled to pull me from the ground's grasp. He pulled, the dirt and sweat making our palms slippery, but he managed to keep me in his grip.

As I grew closer to the edge of the quicksand at a faster rate than when he'd been pulling on the rope, he backed up. The quicksand was now only clinging to my feet, and I tried not to sob in relief. We were so close to getting me out.

He kept pulling, not releasing the pressure, my arms screaming in protest at being tugged in two directions. Wasn't this a form of medieval torture? I think they called it the rack. Yup. That's what this felt like.

My brain was scrambled from the exhaustion, panic, fear, anger, and whatever else this day had put me through. I'd had bad days before, but this one was certainly at the top of the list of worst days ever.

He let up just a little, relaxing briefly before he gave one final hard tug, snapping the tension on my body and freeing me from the ground. The sudden release of pressure from one end caused me to be pulled into him as he fell under me. The momentum resulted in me landing on his lap, my head near his navel.

We both laid there for a moment, panting from the exertion and with relief. I was free. Filthy, but out of that mess. Not able to move yet, my muscles nothing but jelly, I tilted my head to look at myself. Anything to distract from my current position and the things that my body wanted to do to Callum.

The heat had caused me to sweat while underground, resulting in the dirt turning to mud, caked onto my skin and clothes in a thick layer. Great. This day just kept getting better and better.

A rumble under my body had me springing to my hands and knees, fear that the walls were shifting again piercing my fatigue. Except it wasn't the walls that were causing the vibration. It was Callum. He finally barked out a laugh after inhaling deeply. On my hands and knees, I crawled up his body to peer into his face. Yup. I had driven him crazy. He was mad, having lost it after one too many run-ins with me.

His laughter died down slowly as he opened his eyes to find me hovering over his body, my legs straddling him without touching his narrow hips, the flames he claimed to control dancing in his eyes. I hadn't realized the position I had put myself in, too concerned about his mental state and too tired to stand.

Now that I realized our positions, I felt my body heat up with desire, echoing the hunger I could feel emanating from him. I didn't dare move, hardly daring to breathe as he stared at me. His hands landed on my hips and squeezed me roughly, just over the bruises from the rope. The pain sent a burst of pleasure to my core, and I inhaled sharply.

His nostrils flared, and though I didn't think it possible, his eyes became consumed by the flames. I knew he smelled my arousal, and the knowledge that he could only excited me more.

I held my breath, afraid to move, not wanting to ruin this moment between us. He didn't seem to have the same qualms as he spoke, his voice deeper and full of gravel. “Without a doubt, you are nothing but trouble.”

The way he said it, with both frustration and desire, left me speechless. I licked my lips, their sudden dryness most likely the result of my wet pussy and not the fact that I hadn’t had anything to drink since facing the dragon. I focused on his mouth, praying he would kiss me, still not able to move. His eyes held me captive in their burning gaze.

---