Page 66 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
He didn't make me wait. With a slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside, inch by glorious inch, until he was fully seated within me. We both groaned, the stretch of him delicious and overwhelming.
"You're perfect," he rasped, pressing his forehead to mine. "So tight. So warm. You feel like home."
I lifted my hips to meet his, crying out as he pulled almost all the way out, then drove back in with a force that made the headboard thud against the wall.
We fell into a rhythm, deep, powerful strokes that had me clinging to him with nails and moans. His name left my lips in broken syllables. His body moved over mine, claiming me with every movement. Sweat slicked our skin, mingling as our breaths grew ragged.
My orgasm built fast, hot and pulsing at the base of my spine. "Callum... I can't hold it..."
"Then don't," he growled, speeding up, angling hiships just right until he hit the spot that made me see stars. "Let go for me, Sage. I want to feel you fall apart."
I shattered around him, crying out as pleasure tore through me, wave after crashing wave. My walls pulsed around his length, and he cursed under his breath, burying himself deep with one final drive before following me into release.
"I love you," he murmured against my neck as he moved inside of me, forcing my orgasm to ride wave after wave as I clenched around him.
"I love you more," I whispered back, completely wrecked and entirely his.
Then, with one last drive, he shouted out his release, filling me with his warmth and love as the room filled with an otherworldly sound. As he collapsed on top of me, our breaths came in harsh pants, our hearts racing in unison. With his release, another wave of building ecstasy wrapped around me and detonated from our passion. I threw my head back, Callum's name falling from my lips like a prayer. He kissed me with such sweetness, his gaze locked on mine as he shuddered and gasped. We clung to each other in the aftermath, our heartbeats gradually slowing to match each other as the sensation of finally being whole again washed over us.
"I never got over you, Sage," he whispered against my skin, his voice rough with years of suppressed emotion. "Every day for five years, I've wondered if you were okay, if you were happy, if you'd found someone who deserved you. And every day, I hated myself a little more for not being brave enough to find out."
"You're here now," I said softly,my fingers tracing the lines of guilt that had etched themselves around his eyes over the years.
"I'm here now," he agreed. "And if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of our lives making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me again."
I traced lazy patterns on his chest, enjoying the way his breathing hitched when my fingers found particularly sensitive spots. "You know," I mused, my voice taking on that familiar devious edge that suggested dangerous territory ahead, "for someone who spent five years pining away like a tragic Victorian heroine, you certainly haven't lost your touch."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Oh, it absolutely is. Though I have to admit, I'm slightly disappointed that your dramatic suffering didn't manifest in some deliciously tortured poetry or at least a few paintings of my ethereal beauty." I grinned up at him with mock disappointment. "Very inconsiderate of you, really."
"Next time I'll be sure to document my anguish more artistically," he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Perhaps a tragic ballad or two about your cruel beauty and my inevitable doom."
"Much better. I expect nothing less than full Gothic romance treatment from my future husband." The word slipped out before I could stop it, and I felt him tense slightly beneath me.
"Future husband?" he repeated, and I could hear the hope threading through his voice like light through darkness.
I lifted my head to meet his gaze, my expression softening just enough to show him the truth beneath my teasing. "Well, we can't very well scandalize the town more than we already have. Besides," I added with a smirk that was pure satisfaction, "someone needs to keep you from making any more spectacularly stupid decisions."
"I love you, my beautifully twisted witch," he murmured, pulling me closer.
"Good," I replied, settling back against his chest with a satisfied sigh. "Because you're stuck with me now. And fair warning, I hold grudges like other people collect stamps. Very carefully, and with impressive dedication to the hobby."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as sleep began to claim us both, wrapped in each other's arms and the promise of whatever delightfully chaotic future awaited us.
Twenty-Nine
Sage
There's something deeply satisfying about the aftermath of spectacular revenge and equally spectacular reconciliation. As we lay tangled together in the warm glow of the dying fire, I found myself contemplating the delicious irony that saving a town from a magical conspiracy had somehow resulted in the best sex of my life.
"That was..." Callum murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction as his fingers traced lazy patterns across my skin.
"Magically vindictive?" I supplied, a grin curving my lips. "Vengefully therapeutic? Spectacularly overdue?"
He chuckled, nuzzling against my neck in a way that sent pleasant shivers down my spine. "I was going to say perfect, but your descriptions work too."
I sighed contentedly, basking in the rare sensation of having both my revenge and my warlock exactly where Iwanted them. For the first time in years, the ghosts of the past felt properly exorcised rather than simply ignored.
