38
1033 Words
He said that in his commanding tone, the one he uses when he’s trying to intimidate me. He should know by now that it doesn’t work.
When I continue to fight to get away, he says hotly, “Keep fighting me, and I’ll s***k your pussy.”
Shocked, I fall still and stare up at him with wide eyes, my heart hammering.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, pleased. He kisses my forehead. Then he groans softly. “God, I can’t f*****g wait to do that. I want to s***k your p***y until you squirt all over my hand.”
My face burns, as do my nether regions. “Callum!”
He growls, “Yes, baby. You’re gonna say my name just like that when I’m f*****g your sweet wet cunt nice and hard.”
He releases me abruptly, setting me aside on the seat. Then his cell phone rings, and he starts a casual conversation with someone on the other end, as if he didn’t just shatter my entire perception of reality.
I collapse against the door, press a hand over my pounding heart, and hyperventilate until I see stars. Then I close my eyes and try to convince myself I imagined the whole thing.
It doesn’t work. Every cell in my body has it on replay.
His words echo on my skin, in my head, through my veins. And especially between my legs, where a pulsing, repetitive beat of please please please has started. I squeeze my thighs together, which only makes the ache worse.
The rest of the ride is spent the same way, with Callum on the phone and me attempting to piece myself back together.
But no matter how attracted to him I am, I can’t allow myself to be another one of his conquests. I can’t risk getting my heart involved.
I already know I’m nothing to him but a means to an end.
We turn off Sunset Boulevard and pass through the massive gates that mark the entry to Bel Air. It looks like a movie set with the towering palm trees, carved limestone blocks, and elaborate ironwork. After following the road for a few miles, we turn into a long, curving driveway, at the end of which is a closed wooden gate. The driver rolls down his window and punches a few buttons on the black box on the pole standing beside the gate. With a creak, the gate slowly opens. We drive through.
“Home sweet home,” says Callum, disconnecting his call. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m about to s**t myself is what I think. That’s your house?”
“No, that’s our house.”
I look away from the enormous chateau looming past the windshield and stare nervously at Callum’s handsome profile.
Looking straight ahead, he says, “Don’t be scared.”
“That sounds like bad advice.”
He turns his head and gazes at me. After a thoughtful pause, he says, “You never have to be afraid of anything again. If you have a problem, I’ll fix it. If you need something, I’ll give it to you. If anyone bothers you, I’ll make them wish they hadn’t. Whatever you want or need, you tell me, and you’ll have it. You’re mine now.”
He reaches out and caresses my cheek. His voice drops, and his eyes start to burn. “You belong to me.”
His intensity terrifies me. So does the you belong to me stuff.
“I feel like it’s important to mention at this point in the conversation that I’m not your property. Just because we signed some paperwork—”
“You’re mine,” he interrupts firmly. “And if you ever start to doubt that, look at the ring on your finger.”
I search his face. A sickening feeling of fear takes root under my breastbone. “I need to be honest with you about something now.”
“What is it?”
“You’re scaring me.”
“What did I just tell you about that?”
“It feels important to reiterate.”
He gazes at me for a moment, then says in a softer voice, “When I said you don’t have to be afraid of anything again, that includes me. I’ll never harm you, Emery. And deep down, you know that, or you’d never have agreed to become my wife.”
I lick my dry lips and swallow, darting a glance at the driver before lowering my voice.
“It might be all the s*x talk that’s got me so worried. Especially this consummate-the-marriage thing. You never mentioned anything about that before. In fact, you promised I could have my own bedroom if I wanted. I’ve decided to take you up on that.”
Callum’s smile comes on slowly. He seems to be amused by a thought, but doesn’t say it aloud.
“What’s that face you’re wearing?”
“Why? Is it making you nervous?”
“Yes.”
His smile grows wider. “It should.”
I want to thump him on the shoulder, but don’t. Who knows how he’d retaliate? I could be over his knee getting my bare a*s s*****d in five seconds flat.
I’m not sure if I hate that idea or love it. I’m also not sure what it says about me that I can’t make up my mind.
“I’ll ignore that to head back to reality for a moment. Will you please call William and ask him to lock up the shop? The spare keys are under the—”
“It’s handled,” he interrupts.
Confused, I furrow my brow. “How?”
“I gave him instructions before we arrived.”
All the creaky gears in my brain struggle to make sense of that new piece of information. They don’t have much luck. “You told your attorney to lock my store before you even knew we’d be going to your house today?”
“Our house. And everything I do is planned carefully in advance, so yes, I told him before I got there to lock up the shop when we left.”
- Writer
