Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Callum

I don't make a sound as he offers her the weeping tip of his cock.

I am chained to the wall with sturdy shackles at my wrists and ankles, giving me little room to move, unable to do anything about what is happening mere feet away from me.

As the scene plays out, I feel like I am stepping out of my body and looking down on everything as though from above. My heart is pounding so heavily that it feels like it might beat right out of my chest. Although the room is cool, I feel sweat trickling down my back.

What he has done to her… bound her… in such a way that she is utterly helpless, her body spread open, available, hanging, trapped, and helpless for all that he might want to do. He stands facing me with his fingers tangled in her hair, using it as a leash to direct her mouth to his liking. It gives me the perfect view of her glistening pussy, all wet and ready for him as she laps his cock.

He is a big male. His cock is no fucking different. I sense that he is going to slide it in her mouth soon, likely push it deep into her all too willing throat.

The vision should horrify me—make me want to rip his fucking hands from her. I don't even care that he is a shifter, and that I would not have a chance against him. And yet I cannot interfere, can I? For I am bound just as she is.

I swallow thickly, knowing I cannot lie, even within the privacy of my mind. Were someone to take these bindings from me, fucking him up would not be my first choice.

My cock is hard as stone, throbbing with arousal behind the leather of my pants, demanding an out.

I already know the rapture found when taking her pussy. Were someone to set me free, I would not waste time on the shifter bastard touching what is mine. No, I would slam deep into her pussy that is right in front of me, weeping for attention.

A distinct splat sounds against the floor. My hands tighten into fists. Gods, her pussy is so wet it has just fucking dripped.

I tell myself I hate him, even as I see how desperate and needy she is. He has always wanted her. I now question whether she also wanted him.

What am I in this?

Is she leaving me for him? Is this the two of them taunting me with what can never be mine again?

Although it wounds my heart, I cannot look away. I don't care what I was or am, only what I will be. Even as desolation trawls through my mind, a part of me that has lain in slumber wakes up and begins to prowl.

I am ready to fight for her.

Yet I recognize that this is not the fight one does with his fists, for which I know I have skills. No, this is a different kind of fight—this is a battle for the woman I love and for her love.

Pinpricks wash over the surface of my skin. The world takes on an orange tinge and shimmers. I blink rapidly to clear the strange blurring. Gods, I am losing my fucking mind.

"There we go, lass," he says, pushing the tip between her parted lips.

She groans.

Fuck! Another splat hits the polished floorboards beneath her, making my weak mouth water for a taste. I fucking hate her sweet juices being wasted on the floor.

I want to fuck her, to remind her why I was first, that I can make her feel just as fucking good, if not better.

My lips curl behind the gag as something feral grips me. I remind myself of all those times she was like this for me, how slick she grew for me with no more than a touch, how she moaned so sweetly in my arms… the way she wrapped her lips around my cock like it was a special kind of treat.

I groan, so low it is almost a growl. Pre-cum is leaking from the tip of my cock as it flexes inside my pants, drenching the entire shaft all the way to my balls.

I will not fucking come.

Yet I am already suffering the telltale tingle and the urgent sensation that tells me—despite the quagmire of emotions that assault me as I lurch unsteadily between arousal, pity, and rage—that I might not have a choice in this most debauched of situations.

He lifts his gaze from what she does and pins me with a look. The faintest hint of a smile touches his lips as his focus lowers to the straining ridge of my cock.

I growl and tug against the bindings.

Like he knows he has won this fucking round, his attention returns to the woman bound for his pleasure alone.

He knows what this does to me.

But he also knows that, in some twisted way, I like seeing his hands on her, like how delicate she is before him.

Like seeing her all helpless and bound like this.

And then he tightens his grip on her hair and, with a groan, surges deep.

My cock jerks. I hear a ringing in my ears.

She gags, choking around the thick cock until he eases out far enough for her to gasp a breath.

"We're going to need to work on that, lass. Relax for me and let me fuck your throat," he rumbles before he plows her again.

Fuck!

My balls rise, and pleasure rips through me: sharp, fast, and impossible to resist.

I grunt, and my cock spews cum inside my pants, pulsing more and more, the pleasure rocking me as I strain to break free.

I breathe raggedly behind my gag as Gray continues to take pleasure in Ada's throat.