Broken Bond

Chapter 39

VANESSA

My fingertips ghost over the delicate lines of the drawing in my lap, in awe of the painstaking detail that went into every stroke of the pencil to create it. It’s a

depiction of me- like every other sketch in this book- and in this one, my eyes are the

main feature, crinkled at the edges, a

giveaway that I’m smiling even though my fists are tucked in front of my mouth to hide it. My hair frames my face in loose waves,

every strand etched with such precision that

you can see the movement in the drawing like it’s captured a moment in time.

Callum is so freaking talented, and something hot burns in my chest every time I look through these drawings, his love poured onto every page. It’s a heady feeling, being his muse. Being the subject of his art, the object of his affection. It’s immense and

overwhelming. Nobody sees me like Callum Conway does.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of his apartment door yanks me out of the trance I’m in, and I jerk my head up, looking

toward the door as Cal lets himself in. He

freezes in the threshold when he sees me seated on his couch, exhaustion and uncertainty written all over his face.

That’s not the only thing on his face. I’m just as taken aback by the sight of him; not because I wasn’t expecting him to return home, but because he’s covered in blood. Crimson lines track down his face, dripping from his saturated hair. His grey t-shirt is splattered and soaked through, and blood coats his tattooed forearms and cakes his knuckles.

“What are you doing here?” Callum asks tentatively, still hovering in the doorway.

I quickly bring myself back from the momentary shock of his appearance,

flipping the sketchbook closed and holding it close to my chest as I rise to my feet.

“Your neighbor let me in with her spare key,” I provide. “She was pretty cranky about it and definitely skeptical that I was your girlfriend. I had to sweet talk her and show her these to prove it.” I hold out the sketchbook to indicate before stooping to slide it onto the surface of the coffee table.

The corner of Cal’s mouth ticks up. “Mrs. Donnelly,” he breathes, his shoulders. sagging as he takes a step inside and swings. the door closed behind him. “She’s a mean old bitch, but she’s a real gem.”

I crack a smile at the accuracy of his description. She had some choice words to describe Cal as well, but despite their barbs, it’s clear that they share affection for one another.

He takes another step further into the apartment, and I suppress a gasp when the light hits him and further illuminates his

macabre appearance.

“Is it done?” I ask quietly, even though the answer to that question is written in red all

over his skin. After Vee filled me in on all the

details of what went down this morning with Troy, I came straight here, knowing I

wanted to be here for Cal when he returned.

Knowing he’d need me.

He nods solemnly, grinding to a halt rather than continuing into the living room to join me. “I… I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he grits out, avoiding eye contact and staring down at his bloody palms.

My bare feet pad against the floo

as I make

my way closer, stepping right up in front of him and reaching up to cup his bloody jaw, ignoring the mess in favor of the man.

underneath it. “You don’t have to hide from

me,” I say gently.

Callum’s eyes flicker up to meet mine, the look in them haunted. “I’m a monster,” he rasps, flinching away.

“You’re not,” I insist, moving with him,

refusing to allow him to retreat into himself.

I caress his cheek with my thumb, the sticky blood on his face smearing beneath it.

“I am,” he whispers hoarsely. He reaches up to wrap his fingers around my wrist and lifts my hand from his face, lowering it between us, his eyes transfixed on the blood

transferred onto my skin.

I press my other hand to his chest, right over his heart. It thumps beneath my palm as his eyes meet mine again. “If you’re a monster, then you’re my monster,” I say resolutely, pushing up on my tiptoes to brush my lips against his. I taste the metallic hint of blood

on his mouth, but it doesn’t deter me from pressing closer, stealing a soft, iron-tinged

kiss.

I feel the tension slip from his body as his lips begin to move against mine, his arms. banding around my waist tightly to anchor me. Or maybe to anchor himself. The kiss is

slow, tender and cautious, almost like he’s

searching for acceptance within it. I respond by deepening it, sweeping my tongue. against the seam of his lips. I put all my intention behind it, reassuring him that I’m here. That I love him exactly as he is, and

I’m not going anywhere. Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

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We’re both breathless as we break the kiss, and when I stare into his eyes, the soul- shattering vulnerability in his gaze nearly brings me to my knees. It’s like he’s stripping himself bare for me, letting me see every part of him- the frayed edges, the jagged, broken pieces, the scars of his past trauma. Above all, though, I see the best parts of him shining through. The loyal

friend. The talented artist. The tender lover. I

see his incredible strength; his steadfast perseverance. And I love him for all of it, the complicated mosaic of good and bad, ugly and beautiful. All of it makes him who he is, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.

“C’mon, let’s get you in the shower,” I coax,

taking Callum by the hand and tugging him

toward his bedroom.

His boots scuff against the floor as he follows me, and when we get into the bathroom, I start the shower and help him peel off his blood-soaked clothes. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, his gaze intently focused on me as the room begins to fill with steam. I undress after him, neither of us saying a word as we step into the shower together and I guide him underneath the stream of water, my fingertips tracing the contours of his body reverently as the shower washes him clean.

“I hope you made it hurt,” I murmur as I squeeze a glob of shampoo onto my palm, reaching up to scrub it into his hair. The

blood makes the bubbles turn pink as I

lather it up, massaging his scalp with my fingers.

Cal grunts in affirmation, his arms winding around my waist and his eyes slipping

closed as he relaxes into my touch.

I press closer, nudging his body underneath the stream from the showerhead to wash out the shampoo. “Is he dead?” I ask cautiously, rinsing the pink suds from his strands.

“No.” Callum opens his eyes, his blue-green gaze colliding with mine. “Probably wishes he was right about now, though. Chase let me get a little… creative with his punishment.”

I arch a brow. “Meaning?”

A smirk creases Cal’s lips, the first real sign of a smile I’ve seen from him since he

returned home. “He’s in time-out.” 9.

I know I shouldn’t- it’s cruel and wrong to find satisfaction in someone else’s misery- but I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “The basement?” I ask.

Callum gives a jerky nod, his fingertips idly tracing circles on the skin of my lower back. “Uh huh. He’ll stay there for three days, under guard, and then he’ll be exiled from

the pack for his transgressions.”

“It’s better than he deserves,” I mumble, picking up a washcloth and squeezing body wash onto it. I work it into a lather, then go to work soaping up his skin.

“My mom’s going with him,” Cal mutters as I scrub the blood from behind his ears. “She

thinks her old pack will take them in. Sounds like Spence is gonna stay, though.”

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“Maybe you two can have a shot at building a relationship,” I suggest.

“Doubt it. But we can coexist.”

I sigh as I dip the washcloth under the stream to rinse it, wringing out the pink- tinged water to splash at our feet. “So if Troy’s locked away… why all the blood?”

Cal slips a finger underneath my chin, tipping my face up to his. “He threatened you,” he states coldly, the silver of his wolf flashing in his irises. “Nobody gets away with threatening my girl.” a

My heart rate picks up speed as a smile creeps across my lips. “So I’m again?”

ur girl

He pulls me in roughly, the skin of my chest slapping against his. “You’ve always been my girl.” His lips crash down onto mine, his

possessive, claiming kiss stealing my breath. Our lips glide together, my tongue chasing his, and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, my legs get a little wobbly, liquid fire coursing through my veins.

Callum releases my lips with a loud pop, pinning me against him as he stares down into my eyes intently. “I love you, Ness,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to mine and squeezing his eyes closed. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” I breathe, soaking up the importance of this moment with him. We’ve finally put the ghosts of the past to bed, and now we can just… be. We can move forward. Together. 2

I shift my hips closer, drawing a short gasp when I feel the twitch of his hard-on against my belly. We may be dealing with some

seriously heavy emotional stuff right now, but our slick, naked bodies obviously have other ideas. The persistent thrum between my thighs is getting hard to ignore, and as I slide my palms down the hard planes of his chest, something comes over me and I

continue my descent, dropping to my knees in front of him.

Cal’s eyes pop open in surprise as he peers down at me, his teeth sinking into his lower lip on a wince as I wrap my hand around his thick cock and give it a slow stroke.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his gaze turning molten. “You don’t have to…” His voice trails off into a guttural groan as I slide the head of his dick past my lips, swirling my tongue around the crown before taking him in deeper. His hips jolt forward, his fingers digging into the damp strands of my hair.

Even though I’m the one on my knees, there’s something powerful in this position, watching the man above me come undone as I control his pleasure. I take him in as far as I can, the head of his cock bumping the back of my throat before I slide back, guiding my movements with my hand wrapped firmly around his base. He groans louder as I start moving up and down with a steady rhythm, caressing the underside of his shaft with my tongue as I suck him off.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Cal chants as his hips pump in steady thrusts, perfectly in sync. with the bob of my head. The way he starts to unravel only boosts my enthusiasm – I start to move faster, relaxing my throat and taking him deeper, slurping and licking and sucking until I feel his thighs begin to tremble. He’s right on the edge, but then suddenly he’s pulling out of my mouth, yanking me to my feet and pressing a searing hot kiss to my lips.

My mind is clouded with lust, desire

scorching my veins as Callum spins me by the waist roughly, pinning my chest against the shower wall. I slap my palms up against the tile to brace myself while he angles my hips, and then in one powerful thrust, he slams home, a ragged scream tearing from my throat as he buries every thick inch of his

cock inside me. My inner walls quiver around him from the abrupt intrusion, pain quickly giving way to mind-numbing pleasure as he grips my hips tighter and starts to pump in and out, setting a punishing pace and hitting a spot deep inside that has me seeing stars.

“Oh my… Callum… oh god,” I babble, his pelvis slapping against my ass with every

snap of his hips. His hands slide up my waist, winding around my front to cup my breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he continues to hammer into me. I hiss in a breath through my teeth as he

pinches my nipples, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my core.

“So. Fucking. Perfect,” Cal growls,

punctuating every word with a hard punch of his hips. “Mine.”

“Yours,” I gasp, arching my back and

moving against him to meet every thrust. ” I’m yours, Callum.”

It feels like something cracks open in my chest, a beacon of light flooding in and filling up the empty chasm that was left

behind when our mate bond broke. It’s

fleeting, but I feel it with every fiber of my

being, like all those little glimmers that have

appeared over the last couple weeks are somehow starting to solidify into something more, something almost tangible.

Cal’s strained growl in my ear tells me that

he feels it, too, and suddenly his thrusts

become harder, more frantic, powerful and

all-consuming. His hand drops between my thighs, fingers strumming my clit with expert precision. “Shatter for me, baby,” he coaxes, his raspy voice in my ear sending a

tremor through my body, giving way to a powerful orgasm that takes my feet out

from under me.

Callum’s strong arm around my waist keeps

me upright as he fucks me through my climax, peppering my shoulders and back with kisses and little love-bites. “So fucking

beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, slowing his pace before sliding out

completely.

I moan in protest, but then he’s spinning me around, lifting me by backs of my thighs and wrapping them around his waist. “I wanna see you, babe,” he murmurs as he lines up

and glides back in, pressing my back to the wall for leverage as he fills me to the hilt. This new angle provides a whole new feeling of fullness, and he just holds me there for a moment, his lips brushing against mine as we breathe each other’s air. Then he’s

sliding out slowly, thrusting back in, hard, but not fast. Like he’s worshipping my body with every punch of his hips.

I wrap my arms around his neck, moaning softly as he ravages me up against the shower wall. My body’s still hyper-sensitive from my orgasm, and I already feel another one building, the coil in my belly winding

tighter and tighter with every glide of his cock against my inner walls. He holds me captive with his stare as he increases his

pace, his jaw clenching and his breathing growing more labored.

Our bodies are so in tune with one another’s

that I know the moment he’s about to let go, his muscles tensing and brow furrowing. He grips my ass and buries himself deep, and I follow him right over the edge, liquid lightning crashing through me as we both come undone, my pussy clenching around his cock as his release floods inside me. My

toes curl and my vision tunnels, pure bliss seizing my body in a chokehold as I tremble in Callum’s arms.

Slowly, we both come back down, our lips meeting and gliding together seamlessly as

Cal pulls out and sets me back down on

shaky legs. Then he directs me underneath

the stream of water, using the washcloth to clean my inner thighs while pressing kisses to my shoulders and breasts. All the while, I’m gliding my hands over the firm planes of his chest and his broad shoulders, reveling in the feeling of his skin beneath mine. I run a palm down his arm, catching his hand and lifting it between us, pressing a soft kiss to

the heart tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

“Thank you,” Callum rumbles, staring at me intently as the thumb of his other hand traces the cherry tattoo on the side of my ribcage.

My eyes flicker up to meet his, my brows pulling together in question.

“For being here.”

A smile creases my lips. “Always,” I whisper, my heart stuttering in my chest at the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

And in that moment, I swear I feel it again-

that swell of connection between us. Like somehow, beyond all odds, we’re finding our way back to reclaiming what we lost. It’s not logical. It doesn’t make sense. But I swear I can feel something there.

And whatever it is, it’s growing stronger.