Callum’s Hell

by Mason, V. F.

  “Don’t you dare,” I warn, stepping back and ready to bolt, but it’s too late.

  He catches me on the way and my laughter fills the space. “Suddenly, I’m craving something sweet,” he murmurs, lifting me up onto the counter, and my robe opens wide at the action, sliding over my shoulders to my elbows.

  “I took a shower,” I try again, pushing at his chest, but he shrugs.

  “So did I.” And he clasps his hands over my hips, sliding me closer so I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him. “Let’s have breakfast?” he whispers against my lips, and we connect in a kiss, his tongue softly seeking mine, gently stroking it. His hard mouth demands my complete surrender, and at this point, with desire slowly building up inside me, I gladly give it to him.

  The kiss turns raw and passionate, and I remove the robe right before circling my arms around him, pressing myself flush against his chest, and I moan into his mouth as my nipples connect with his muscles.

  But then I feel something on my skin and snatch my mouth away, glancing down to see strawberry syrup on my chest, and gasp, “Callum!” I thought he was just joking about it.

  He nips my chin before traveling to my neck and dusting butterfly kisses over my skin, and I lean back, placing my palms behind me, giving him full access to my body.

  The liquid slides to my collarbone and breasts and lower, and Callum’s mouth trails after it, leaving no skin untouched. His lips reach my nipple, and he suckles it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it while he pinches the other one, and electricity runs through me, my insides burning with the fire he creates.

  My thighs tighten around him, and I shift a little, seeking friction—not that he gives me much room for movement.

  He moves his attention to my other breast all while the syrup slides to my stomach, and I gasp when it reaches my pussy. “Giselle,” he calls my name, and I meet his stare that’s darkened with desire. “Lie down, baby.”

  I do as he says, hissing at the cold counter against my back, but that quickly changes to a moan when he opens me up and swipes his tongue over my clit, through my folds, and then he pushes it inside me, still keeping a strong hold on my legs so all I can do is arch my back and tangle my fingers in his hair.

  He stiffens his tongue, thrusting it back and forth before going back to my navel, scooping up what’s left of the syrup. He bites on my flesh, growling, “Now this is a delicious breakfast.” He shifts his head between my legs again, flicking my folds and thrusting back inside.

  “Callum!” I tightened my hold on him, hating and loving it at the same time, because I’m still so sensitive from our last lovemaking session. Yet I can’t help but seek the pleasure only he can give me, slowly rotating my hips, but he puts his hands on my stomach, which dips under his touch as he grips it so I have to still.

  He licks up and sucks on my clit, pressing two of his fingers inside so deep a groan erupts from me, but it only makes him chuckle. “Little liar. You want this as much as me.”

  Like there was any doubt?

  What sane woman would say no to sex with him?

  I frown at the thought, hating just the idea of him with someone else, and I pull at his hair, probably bringing him pain.

  He raises his head, his brow lifting. “A little aggressive, are we?”

  “You are mine.” I can’t believe I’m saying this shit now.

  Mortification rushes through me when a slow grin spreads on his mouth and he grabs my hips, squeezing my flesh harshly. “Who else’s would I be?” He leans down to give a final kiss that drives me insane as he opens up his mouth wide and licks me from bottom to top, suckling my clit in his mouth, and then he steps back, taking off and throwing away his jeans.

  Callum in all his handsome glory is magnificent, and my heart pangs painfully when various scars become visible on his body under the harsh morning light. I hadn't noticed the first time we made love due to low lighting, but the next morning, I gasped in horror, trailing them with my fingers and questioned where he got them from. He never explained, just said it stayed in the past and they don't hurt anymore.

  I still kissed every one of them every single night since then, because just imagining that someone could have been this cruel to him broke part of my heart.

  His cock comes into view, and it physically hurts me not to have it inside me when I look at its thick head as he fists it up and down, leaking a little precum, and he wipes it up with his thumb, bringing it to my mouth. “Taste.”

  I wrap my lips around it, moaning at his taste, and his eyes become heated before he snatches it away. I want to protest, because I want to play too. But all my protests die when he slams inside me, tearing a scream out of me when he fills me.

  There is nothing gentle about his touch. Everything is raw and harsh and aggressive, as if he needs to stake a claim on me, as if it’s so important to make me belong to him.

  My nails bite into his shoulders, lowering to his back, where I drag them across it, leaving my marks on him, all while he continues to thrust into me, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the kitchen. The syrup next to me falls to the floor, but I couldn’t care less, because pressure is building up in me, up, up, and up, all while he continues to drill into me. He is planted so deep inside me, stretching me around his thick length, and my lips find his, needing this connection with him.

  It quickly mimics our sex, quickly becoming as needy and rough, adding fuel to an already burning fire.

  He sways back and thrusts so hard that, for a second, air stills in my lungs, but he gives me no chance to gulp for it, because he repeats the action, giving me harsh thrusts, one after another. And that’s when his fingers slide between our bodies, pinching my clit, and it’s enough to send me over the edge.

  I arch my back and rest my head between my shoulder blades, gasping and moaning as pleasure rocks my entire body. I’m not even sure reality exists in this heaven, only tremors that run through me over and over again, awakening all of me as I hug him to me.

  A few more thrusts, and he finds his own release, groaning above me, and my pussy is coated with him. An odd thrill sinks into my bones, reminding me that we are in a committed relationship now. We stopped using condoms around a week ago, wanting to feel each other skin-to-skin, and oh my God, the difference is insane.

  Everything with him is; it’s like my whole life I waited for a man like him to show me what living truly meant. Instead of seeing everything in black and white, I see so many colors it’s frightening sometimes.

  Breathing heavily into his ear, I arch my back a little as we slowly come back to reality. Not wanting to let him go, I wrap my legs tighter around him. In his arms and presence is where it’s safest to be. “I think you’ll have to take another shower,” I murmur, and his laughter sends pleasure through me, so different from the physical contact he inspires.

  When he gifts me with the sounds of his laughter… it’s everything.

  He leans back and palms my head, moving the strands of my hair from my face. “I think we can take it together.”

  Callum

  Giselle is fixing her hair in the bathroom as I walk inside, buttoning my white shirt. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” She pauses curling her hair, or whatever the fuck she does with that thing, and focuses those doll eyes of hers on me. Satisfaction fills me when I see red marks all over her neck and shoulder, reminding me that she belongs to me.

  “About?”

  “There is a project I want you to do, if you’re willing.” Her brows furrow, and she motions with her hand for me to elaborate. “I have a house, a villa really, on an island.” This time, her brows rise. “I’ve designed a garden there, but I need your help for it to be exactly as I want it.”

  She puts the hair thing on the counter and hops up next to it, swinging her legs back and forth as she studies me. Which is really fucking distracting with her lingerie and long legs on display for me, when I’m talking about my trap.

  The time has come to
invite Persephone to her kingdom.

  “You never mentioned having a villa on an island. Just how rich are you?”

  I cage her in, placing my hands on either side of her, making our faces inches apart. A gentle smile curves her mouth. “Enough to fulfill your every wish.”

  She laughs, pushing me away slightly, but I don’t budge. “Easy there, Mister Rich. I’m not so easily swayed by money.” She waits a bit before adding, “But I do like the wish part.”

  I whip my phone out and select the photo gallery then give her the phone, and she gasps, quickly swiping through the many pictures. “Oh my God!” She shakes my arms and then slaps me on the shoulder. “This is like a florist’s heaven!”

  Yeah, I do know what makes my Persephone tick. “So what’s the answer?”

  Giselle fists my shirt, brings me closer, and whispers right before locking her mouth with mine, “When can we leave?” Her lips part for my tongue, and the kiss quickly turns from a peck to hot as she moans into my mouth and her tongue entwines with mine, possessing and claiming at the same time.

  Wrapping my hands around her neck, I squeeze it a little and push back so she can see nothing but me. “Tonight.”

  “But—”

  “Tonight,” I repeat, and steel laces my voice. “This way we will be there by morning.” She studies me for a second and then nods. Thank fuck, because I didn’t want to argue about it.

  “I’m going to pack then.” She kisses me once again before sliding from under me and running from the bathroom while I stay there, gazing at my reflection in the mirror.

  She is happy now.

  What will happen when she sees the real monster that’s been behind this reflection for the last two decades?

  But no matter her answer, I will never let her go.

  She will forever burn in this hell with me, because she’s my salvation in the darkness.

  Giselle

  A gasp slips past my lips when I press my nose to the plane’s window, gazing from the sky down to the beautiful C-shaped island spread right in the middle of the ocean that glistens brightly in the sunlight. “It’s gorgeous,” I whisper, excitement building inside me at the prospect of dipping my toes in the water.

  I’ve never been on a tropical island before. Walkers were expected to travel all over Europe or other places where Father could make connections. So tanning on the beaches was not on one of those lists, and those trips were too expensive to afford on my own.

  Callum’s palm glides along my nape, squeezing it possessively, and I straighten when he leans forward to place a soft kiss on my neck, breathing in my scent. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

  I giggle as his lips tickle my skin, and I push him away, sighing dramatically. “Control yourself, Mr. MacRae. I’m your employee now,” I tease, and his gaze darkens as it sweeps over me.

  “You are my woman.” He wraps his hand around the orchid necklace he gifted me a few weeks ago that’s hanging from my neck, and he drags me closer so our mouths are a breath away from each other, and only the arm of the plane seat separates us. “Mine and only mine,” he mutters right before locking my mouth with his, our tongues entwining in a kiss that sends a hot flash through me, awakening me to his desire.

  He swallows my moan, and I fist his shirt, needing to feel him closer while his fingers lace in my hair, tugging it back so he has a deeper angle to work with while he continues to ravish me.

  Groaning, I pull back and gulp for oxygen while his lips skim my chin before he bites it, leaving a sting. “Ouch,” I mutter, snapping my eyes open, but he instantly soothes it with a hot lick.

  “Remember who you belong to,” he says. He gives me one last peck and then leans back, winking. “Buckle up, baby. We’re about to land.”

  “How do you know that?” I glance through the window again, and sure enough, we’re closer, but the plane is still high. “Are you psychic?”

  “I have a house here, darling. I do know when we need to land.” The minute he cockily replies, the pilot of the small private jet announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I grumble when I notice his smug grin and send him a death glare that causes him to erupt in full-on laughter. I take in all the beauty as we circle around the island and then slowly start to drop down, down, down and land on the small runway.

  Finally, the plane stops, and I squeal in excitement. “Ocean, here I come.”

  “I thought my garden convinced you to come,” he prompts, getting up and holding his hand out for me.

  “In my defense, it’s the ocean.” We walk to the exit, just in time for the stewardess to drop the stairs, and I smile at her. “Thank you.” The minute I’m outside, the humid air slaps me in the face, and heat rushes through me, since even the wind is warm.

  “Welcome to the island,” Callum announces before pressing his palm to my back. “Move, or your pale skin will get a tan it doesn’t need.”

  I resume walking as a black vehicle pulls up on the tarmac.

  A blond man gets out of it, so freaking tall I have to blink, and he has black sunglasses on, hiding his eyes from me. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and while he seems friendly enough, the word Viking comes to mind. “Oh my,” I murmur, and Callum growls next to me.

  “Don’t admire him.”

  “Hey, I’m not dead!” I tease, even though I couldn’t care less about the guy. Sure, he is hot and all, but he has nothing on my guy.

  Callum slaps me lightly on the ass, and I huff in annoyance, rubbing it as the guy comes closer when we finally finish the steps. “Callum!” he greets, his voice deep, and only then do I notice scars around his neck like red burn marks.

  Whatever happened to him?

  “Micaden.”

  They slap each other on the back. “Did not expect to see you back so soon.” Micaden leans back and his gaze shifts to me as he removes his glasses, piercing me with his ocean-blue eyes. “Nice to meet you, Giselle.” It doesn’t escape me he doesn’t offer me a handshake or any other thing that might piss Callum off.

  Coming from personal experience? I wonder.

  “I wanted to show Giselle the beauty of your island.”

  “Your island?” I speak up, shocked, and my gaze sweeps over him. Judging by his attire, he doesn’t appear to be the wealthiest guy on this island.

  “Well sort of,” he replies, and then motions to his car. “Let’s go.”

  “What does he mean by sort of?” I murmur, keeping my eyes on his back, and Callum wraps his arm around me. “He owns around eighty percent of the businesses here. And the land. So while it’s not officially his, it might as well be. We gotta live by his rules.”

  I giggle at this. “It’s not as if his word is law here.”

  Callum tenses for a fraction of a second but then relaxes, kissing me on top of my head before opening the door to the backseat. “I’m going to sit with Micaden.”

  They both hop inside, and I rest my cheek on the window, studying the passing land as the guys discuss some stocks and news I have no clue about. I drink in the scenery of the island, from the green, endless fields to the glistening ocean that shimmers under the bright sky, and the colorful buildings that have no more than five levels. Children play around, and people sit in a café, reading newspapers or laughing.

  I notice several group activities on the beach, all while everyone gives off the vibe of peacefulness and fulfillment. The picture is straight from a movie about small towns where everyone loves each other and have no sorrows.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I tell Micaden, who takes a hard turn, and we disappear behind bushes and palm trees revealing an endless road in front of us.

  “Thanks. Love it myself.”

  “It’s like being in a different dimension.” Growing up in a big city, you get used to the loneliness and independence along the way, but probably in this community, they can all rely on each other no matter what. While it might get annoying, it
sounds awesome. “You guys probably never have anything bad happen here,” I muse, and then blink at the tension rising inside the car while Micaden’s hands squeeze the steering wheel to the point his knuckles turn white.

  “Right. Heaven on earth,” he replies, and I’m not sure what to make of it, because it sounds like sarcasm. If he owns it and lives here, why does he sound so bitter about it?

  Is there a story there?

  I don’t have much time to dwell on it though, because he pulls the car up to a spacious villa hidden between two oak trees that hang over it, as if protecting it, along with orchids and roses spread in front of it.

  “Oh my God!” I shout, snapping my seat belt off and rushing outside, covering my mouth with my palm.

  The villa spreads horizontally, and it seems endless from my point of view, with see-through walls made almost entirely out of glass. The surrounding area has neatly cut grass that is so green I don’t think I’ve ever seen this exact color before. The narrow path is carved out of gray stones that have cracks in them with small flowers peeking out.

  “You approve, I gather?” Callum asks, and I slap his chest. “It’s so pretty!” Then I see a woman in her fifties emerging from the doors, wiping her hands on an apron. She grins and waves at us. “Callum, you’re back!” Then her gaze slides to me, and her eyes widen as she blinks a few times. “And you must be Giselle. I’m Magnolia.”

  She comes closer and hugs me so tight the breath gets stuck in my throat. “So happy to have you here.” She pats my shoulder. “We need to get you inside. You must be tired.”

  “Well I—” I want to protest, because I need to explore, but she shushes me and drags me toward the house while I shake my head at Callum, who shrugs.

  “It was nice to meet you,” I manage to throw over my shoulder to Micaden, and he lifts his chin in acknowledgment, although his stare stays cold.

  “I’ve waited forever for him to bring a girl home, you know that?” We step inside, and I see a spacious living room, all white with several red pillows thrown on the couches and chairs. The seating surrounds a glass table filled with red roses. There is a terrace door leading to the mesmerizing garden that can be admired even through the glass. “But that boy never did. And here you are.”