Because He Torments Me

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Because He Torments Me Page 7

by Hannah Ford


  “So? I wanted it to happen, Callum.” I didn’t understand what the big deal was. I had a safe word to use if I needed it. I liked what we’d done, liked how rough he was with me. It turned me on to submit to him, to let him have his way with me.

  He swallowed and took his hand from mine before steepling his fingers together. His foot tapped impatiently against the hardwood floor, his body wired with nervous energy.

  He looked at me, his eyes locking on mine. “I can’t stay away from you,” he said, sounding awestruck.

  “Then don’t,” I said, putting my hand back on his arm, tracing my fingers over the rippled muscle of his bicep. “I don’t want you to stay away from me.”

  “I have to. I’m not good for you, Adriana.”

  “Let me decide that.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” he said again, frustrated. He stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “This was not supposed to happen. My rule is one night. One night only.”

  “Yeah, well, you broke it.” I shrugged, trying to lighten the situation. And then I remembered. Rose. The girl who’d shown up at the restaurant that day, the whispered conversation on the balcony in Florida. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked. “Is that what this is about?”

  “What? God, no.”

  I looked around the room. “Then why did you bring me here?”

  “What?”

  “This obviously isn’t where you live, Callum. This is obviously some kind of bachelor pad, some kind of secret love nest where you take women so you can tie them to your bed and fuck them.”

  He didn’t answer, and I knew I was right. “So what am I supposed to think?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Then why didn’t we go to your apartment?”

  “I don’t fuck in my apartment.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “I don’t fuck in my apartment. Here, the club, Florida, hotel rooms… those are the places I fuck.”

  “But why?” I asked softly. “I don’t understand.”

  He sat down next to me and took my hand back in his, kissed each one of my fingers softly. “It’s too intimate for me, Adriana, to have a woman at my apartment.” His gaze moved over my face, searching for a reaction. “I have never admitted that to anyone. But I want you to understand me. I want you to know me.”

  He looked at me, his eyes filled with pain, and I had the sensation of being pulled under by a riptide, that I was giving myself over to something dangerous and unknown.

  “Tell me,” I said. “Make me understand.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I need to have control over everything, every aspect of my life,” he said. “When I don’t, bad things happen.”

  I paused, turning this new bit of information over in my mind. “Is that why you don’t drink?”

  He nodded. “I’ve lost things in my life, important things because of alcohol. I cannot be around it. And I cannot be around someone who drinks.”

  “Okay.” I swallowed. “And that girl, the one from the restaurant? Rose? Is she… I mean, are you two…”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She’s a friend.”

  “A friend who shows up and screams that you’re a bad person?”

  “Adriana,” he said. “You don’t understand. Even now, right now, I’m resisting the urge to push you away, to walk out that door and never see you again.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked. “Do you not want to see me again?”

  “No, I do. Too much. That’s the problem. I can’t stay away from you, and I’m….” He turned to me, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. “I’m not what you need.”

  “How do you know what I need?” I murmured.

  “I know what you deserve. Someone who will commit to you, will do the whole romantic, boyfriend, sweep-you-off-your-feet thing.”

  “And you can’t?”

  He shook his head. “I would have to control you,” he said, his fingers working their way over my collarbone. “Everything about you. Who you saw, how you dressed, how we fucked. There would be consequences. Punishments if you disobeyed me.”

  “I like being punished by you,” I said.

  His lips tugged into a half smile. “This would be more intense than that. It would be like this, only all the time. Constant. I would own you, be in charge of your life, your body, your soul. You would belong to me and me only.”

  “But why?” I said. “Why does it have to be that way?”

  “It’s what I need,” he said simply.

  He kissed me softly, and then he pulled back.

  His fingers brushed against the back my neck as we stared into each other’s eyes.

  I couldn’t tell if he was asking me to do those things, making me an offer, or if he was just telling me why we couldn’t be together, as if it was already an accepted fact.

  I was about to ask him, but before I could, he stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the couch.

  “Come,” he said. “Let’s go to bed.”

  He led me back to the bedroom, and lifted up the comforter, waiting for me to lie down before sliding into bed next to me.

  He wrapped his arms around me and I curved myself into him, my back against his chest.

  He brushed my hair from my neck and his lips found the top of my spine. I shivered as his hands moved over me, exploring the curves of my body. He grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it off me.

  “I want you naked,” he said. “I need to feel all of you.” His hand moved over the swell of my hip and then he pulled me back toward him.

  His chest pushed against my back, and here, in his arms, I had the same feeling I’d had in Florida as we’d fallen asleep.

  This is how it feels to be truly happy.

  I was content.

  I was safe.

  Ask me, Callum, I thought. Ask me to be yours.

  In that moment, as insane as it was, I would have given him anything he wanted, would have promised him anything he asked or required of me.

  All I wanted was this feeling to last, this perfect feeling of calm and possibility and protection.

  But he didn’t ask.

  After a moment, I heard his breathing deepen.

  I didn’t think I would be able to fall asleep.

  But I did, rather quickly, drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep that surrounded me like a blanket.

  When I woke up, the sounds of the city morning blared through the windows, along with the harsh glare of the sun.

  I sat up and looked around, blinking in the invading light.

  But the spot next to me on the bed was empty.

  I listened for the sound of the shower, for the sound of plates in the kitchen, anything that would make it clear someone was there.

  But there was nothing.

  Callum was gone.

  And this time, I had a feeling he wasn’t coming back.

  END OF BOOK THREE – Click here for Book Four, BECAUSE HE POSSESSES ME, available now!

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