Falling For My Husband (British Billionaires) (17 page)

“He wants me back,” she responded, eyes cast down, staring at my chest.

I wanted to growl, go ballistic, go the fuck however I wanted, but a delicate quiver of her bottom lip unhinged something greater than the possessive side of me.

Goodness, she looked so fragile, beautiful and yet a sexy siren all wrapped into one delectable package. “Are you going to?” I carefully asked, trying not to lose my temper.

“No.” She was still adamant not to meet my gaze.

Breathing her in, I took a moment to rationalize my thoughts, then deemed it impossible. “Will you go to him after we’re through?” It was an invalid question, but for some reason, I wanted to know.

“Maybe. We’ll see. I want to date around; see how it is out there.”

See how it is out there
. Right, bloody right. I nodded, as if understanding it all. Saw it all. “
You mean you want to see how it is to have sex with different men? Try out all the shapes and sizes, you mean?
” I was becoming unreasonable, but I couldn’t hold it in. Jealousy was a new emotion I could do without, but it had reared its ugly head when it came to Stella. Not even with Zara was I this territorial. Thinking of Stella in such a precarious situation, I became incensed with fury at the thought of her giving herself to different men.

I was so taken with images of her that when she finally lifted those crystal gray eyes to me, it seized me whole. I completely felt perplexed.

“Is that what you want, Cal?” she whispered; voice little, fragile even.

Her wispy voice nailed a thorn inside me. In this instant, all the rationale, uncertainties, the good and bad intentions, beliefs, weaknesses and happiness dulled away and I entirely became… unguarded.

My forehead rested against hers as I listened to our hearts thud with wild eagerness. The tip of my nose connected with hers. Our lips brushed, motionless. “Stella.” The tip of my wet tongue darted out, wetting my bottom lip, but as it did so, it also tasted her champagne coated one.

Like a truly addicted drunkard—intoxicated, bewildered and simply couldn’t resist temptation—my tongue sat on her bottom lip. From the inside, it traced the outline of her lips. From the bottom to the top, rounding it in a full circle, tasting her luscious lips with newfound hunger. “Stella,” I whispered her name again. Drunk. Hypnotized.

She trembled against me. Lifting my hand, I let my fingers caress her cheek. Each stroke on her soft, silken skin charged towards the powerful magnetic pull I had been avoiding.

It compelled me closer; bringing me to a close as my bottom lip softly kissed hers, ever so slowly. The feeling was exhilarating, even more so when I first took her in bed, consummating our marriage.

My lips softly pried hers open, seeking more. More of her taste. Just more of her.

We kissed. It was soft, gentle and unrushed, as though we had all the time in the world to kiss and get drunk off each other. In this heated moment, all I knew was one thing; from the root of her head to the tips of her dainty toes, Stella was mine.

All.

Fucking.

Mine.

Chapter 22

Stella

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 do
is feel
me 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.”

I
did
need 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.

When he gave my hand a light squeeze, I somehow took it as his way of sorry. I was relieved when the waiters arrived with our last course. It became an excuse so I didn’t have to converse with him.

I understood him. His love and his hate for Zara… I could somehow grasp the capacity of his feelings. Not only that, but I felt sorry for him. What he’d gone through was horrible. Even with all that, a large part of my soul wished that he was mine. It was a twisted thing to wish for, knowing that it would never happen. Even when I was in this Callum haze that assaulted my every sense, my entire existence, my soul… my sanity... Even knowing all that, I still dared wish it.

Love was a damning thing for any human being because it made me a dreamer. It was only a matter of time until something was to happen. I saw it in Zara’s eyes; the way she claimed him without physical contact. In her eyes, it was all there to see. Callum was hers and she was his.

Their connection was palpable. It permeated the air. It was amazing and mortifying to witness. There I was, standing amidst the two past lovers, connecting through their eyes without a word being spoken, but so much was communicated.

As much as I wanted to be a bystander to their astonishing connection, I couldn’t for the life of me stay rooted to the spot and not hear my heart break into smithereens.

I had to find solace, a short reprieve, before I set to leave and go home. My emotions were all over the place, but one thing stood out and that was jealousy.

Of course I was jealous. What woman wouldn’t be? There I was, seeing the man who I had craved and wanted since I knew what lust was at the tender age of fifteen, who was almost at my reach, and his blasted past love showed up.

I was feeling all sorts of things and, when Derek showed up, the need for revenge was harboring me to do something reckless. All of these self-destructive ways of thinking went down the drain the second Callum reappeared, though. He was bold, crass and apologetic. I couldn’t help becoming a hapless woman in his arms again.

That kiss…
Callum’s kiss obliterated my thinking. My reasoning. My hate and all the other damning feelings I had felt minutes before he showed up in the bar. That was all it took to make me his again and I sensed that he knew it, too.

If he ever wanted me tamed, all he had to do was kiss me and I would be his again.

“Want to grant me your first dance for the night?” Callum leaned over and murmured into my ear.

His closeness gave me immediate palpitations. The thought of being held by him while his ex watched was tempting, but I didn’t want him to use me as a ploy to make her jealous. I just wouldn’t let him.

I was about to decline him when we were interrupted, much to my relief.

Hugh Lowsley—one of Richard and Callum’s friends—came over to our table, greeting us. It was obvious that these two had a great bond. From the fun stories Richard had told me before, I was glad that these two kept in touch, even after all these years. I knew how difficult it was after school and life got in the way. It soon became an out of sight, out of mind kind of thing.

Hugh and Callum did the whole comrade-to-comrade thing, shaking hands and then some hugs and laughs. After their greeting, Callum turned to me. “I’m not sure if you’ve met Richard’s little sister, Stella?” He introduced me like we were friends, nothing to insinuate that we were past friendship.

This buggered me
.

It was just then that Hugh cocked his head sideways to see me fully. He then whistled, handing out his hand for me to shake. “Stella? Wow, look at you!” He eyed me with avid scrutiny. “You’re all grown up and how gorgeous, I might add,” he added with an appreciative smile. Sky blue eyes skimmed all over me.

My small hand connected with his manly one, grinning as he shook it. “Well, we
did
meet when I was seventeen. I was bound to ripen with age.”

His appreciation was welcomed as it merely boosted my deflated spirits. I remembered him always being so casual. Nothing fazed him. Even when he was failing in one of his classes for being tardy, he had acted like it was nothing to be bothered about. Years later, Hugh was still the same man and a looker, if I dared add that to the list.