by Ford, Hannah
I nodded my agreement, and he took my hand and led me out of the pool. The cool night air hit my skin, the breeze cold after the warmth of the water, even though it had to have been close to eighty degrees outside. Goosebumps bloomed on my skin.
Callum picked up the towel he’d set on one of the chaises and began drying me, starting at my feet, rubbing my ankles and my legs, my stomach, my thighs, before ending with my fingertips. He readjusted the cups of my bra so that I was covered back up, then wrapped the towel around my shoulders.
He picked up his own towel and dried himself off, and I tried not to stare at the perfection that was his body, somehow even sexier with drops of water glinting on his skin and clinging to his chest hair.
His hand found mine he led me into the house, through the kitchen and up the stairs into the bedroom.
“Stay here,” he said and disappeared into the walk-in closet. When he came back, he was holding a pair of handcuffs.
The room was dark, the only light the light that was shining in from the lanai through the sliding glass doors of the balcony.
“Do you trust me, Adriana?” he asked.
I nodded. It was true. I had no reason to, but I did. I trusted him.
Callum tugged at my towel and it dropped to the floor, leaving me again in just my bra and panties, which clung to my body like a second skin, wet from the pool.
He reached around and unhooked my bra with one hand, and the air from the bedroom hit my breasts, my nipples pebbling into hard peaks. I tried not to think about how good he was at unhooking my bra, how expertly he was able to handle my body. It implied a comfortableness that could only have been found through experience.
I shivered, and he pulled me toward him, my breasts flattening out against his rock hard chest, his body heat warming me like a blanket.
“Eyes on the floor.”
I moved my gaze to the floor as he reached around and took my hands, crossed them behind my back and used the handcuffs to cuff them together.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me to the floor, until I was on my knees before him, the way I’d been that night in the club.
But this time, I had a feeling he was going to finish what he’d started.
He didn’t waste any time.
He pulled off his swim trunks and grabbed my chin in his hand, pressing his dick hard against my lips until they parted. He tasted salty and sweet, with just a hint of chlorine from the pool, and it was so intoxicating it made me light-headed, the way you’d feel after a couple glasses of wine.
He thrust his cock into me, and held onto my chin with one hand while the other one grabbed my breast.
He pulled my face and mouth toward me with his hand, his hips bucking in rhythm as he fucked my mouth.
He was rough, but it felt oh so good. I was cuffed and on my knees, my mouth stuffed with his cock, his balls hitting my chin with every thrust. I wanted him to come in my mouth, I realized excitedly. I wanted to feel him explode on my tongue, wanted to taste him, to know I’d been responsible for his pleasure.
“Good girl,” he groaned. “That’s it, baby, take it deep.”
I could feel the head of his shaft hitting the back of my throat, choking me, and it excited me to be at his mercy. My pussy was slick with need, almost more than when his mouth had been down there.
“Use your tongue, Adriana,” he commanded, and he began pulling his cock out of my mouth with every thrust, then pushing it back in.
Every time he pushed back, I swirled my tongue around the head of his shaft, tasting his precum, acrid and exciting.
“Jesus,” he groaned. “That’s good, baby, keep doing that.”
After a while, he pulled his dick from my mouth, and I looked up at him, wanting his approval, but he slapped his cock against my cheek in punishment.
“Eyes down.”
I returned my eyes to the floor.
“Put your mouth on my balls.”
I hesitated for a moment, and another slap with his cock across my face was my reward.
I lowered my head and sucked his balls into my mouth, and he stroked his cock over me, giving me better access as my head bobbed up and down.
“Shit,” he groaned huskily as I moved back and forth, licking and sucking him hungrily, drunk on the taste of his body.
I was so turned on that I couldn’t help but moan, and the sound seemed to excite him, the vibration in the back of my throat serving to heighten his pleasure.
After a few minutes, he thrust his rock hard dick back into my mouth, pushing it deep and holding the back of my head tight. He held me there as long as I could stand it, until my eyes watered and I was left gasping for air.
When he finally let me go, my heart was pounding and my chest was heaving.
He reached down and undid the handcuffs, then helped me up.
Callum rubbed my wrists where the metal had bit into my skin, then raised my hands to his mouth and kissed my fingers softly, one by one.
“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes swirling with desire.
I nodded.
He pulled me toward him again, kissing me, his tongue tangling with mine. He’d been freshly shaven this morning, but now there was just the tiniest bit of stubble on his face, and it brushed against my chin as he kissed me.
I could feel his cock against my stomach, and I shivered.
Callum broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine. “Turn around,” he whispered huskily.
I turned around and he pulled my hair back from my face, twisting it together and tying it into a loose knot.
“I want to see your face when I fuck you,” he whispered, his breath tickling the back of my neck.
He led me over to the four-poster bed.
“Wrap your arms around the post, Adriana,” he commanded.
I wrapped my arms around the post at the bottom of the bed, and he snapped the handcuffs back around my wrists, looping them around so that I was bound to it.
“Bend over as far as you can,” he commanded from behind me. “And stick your ass into the air.”
I stuck my ass into the air, and he slapped it with his open palm. It was a hard blow, right away and with no warning, not the kind of slap that was playful or even a spank. It hurt, and I cried out.
He hit me again, and again, and again, and I gripped the post of the bed hard. The pain was so searing that tears welled in my eyes, but pulsing beneath all that pain was the pleasure, even more intense and confusing. I wanted him to hit me. I liked it, not just because it felt good, but because it made me excited thinking that it was turning him on.
I braced myself harder against the post of bed as he continued his assault on my ass.
Just when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, he laid his body on top of mine, his weight warm and comforting. His fingers found my clit and then I felt his cock slide up against me from behind, not inside of me, but just on the outside, teasing me.
His chest was against my back, and his other hand was holding my wrists tight against the pole, almost like he didn’t trust the handcuffs to do it.
He kissed my neck and I turned my head ever so slightly, making sure to keep my eyes closed and then his mouth was on mine, intoxicating me with the taste of lemon and danger, leaving me drunk on him.
His cock slid against my wet pussy, parting the lips with his width.
He teased me like that, and again, I was afraid I would come if he continued.
Finally, he pulled back, stopped, and uncuffed me.
He picked me up, like he’d done outside, and I wrapped my legs around him. This time, his cock pressed right against me, and I moaned.
He laid me down on the bed, pushed my arms up over my head and cuffed me to the headboard.
I made sure to keep my eyes averted from his.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Callum said, reaching down and pulling one of my knees up so that he had better access. I felt him push against my opening and I gasped.
“Wait,” I said, and he stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t….I’m nervous,” I whispered.
“Adriana, look at me.”
I looked at him. The moon was out now, its light shining in through the open sliding door. It cast him in shadow, his features slightly blurry, and I was thankful for the darkness, thankful I wouldn’t have to see him in the light as I told him how I felt.
“What are you nervous about?” He brushed a stray stand of my hair off my forehead.
“I’m nervous that I won’t be enough for you.” The confession caused a surprising surge of emotion inside of me, and I felt my eyes fill with tears at laying myself so bare for this man, this man who I barely knew and yet felt more connected to than I’d felt to anyone in my life.
“Oh, baby,” he breathed. “You are more than enough for me.”
He kissed me all over my face, down over my eyelids and across my cheekbones before ending up at my lips.
He pushed again against my opening, and I felt myself melt against the sturdy warmth of his body.
He waited a beat, giving me a second to stop him if I wanted to, and when I didn’t, he pushed inside of me.
I gasped at his size, and how it felt inside of me. There was a stretching sensation, a pressure I’d never felt before, even when I’d lost my virginity. He crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me, and electricity moved from my mouth through my body, and I felt myself relax, and I was able to take his cock easier.
He moved slowly at first.
“Look at me,” he groaned, and I opened my eyes and looked at him as he moved inside of me. I wanted to touch him, wanted to run my hands down his chest, to feel his beauty, but my hands were cuffed, leaving me totally at his mercy.
Our eyes locked, my brown ones on his deep blue, and he began moving faster, thrusting inside of me. His hands wrapped around my hips, pulling me into him, like he wanted to get as deep inside of me as he could.
My want and desire built.
“Cum on my cock, baby,” he groaned. “I want to feel that tight little pussy come on me.”
The dirtiness of his words pushed me over the cliff, and I felt myself constrict on his cock, felt my orgasm take over my body, leaving me powerless. I writhed in ecstasy as wave after wave of the most exquisite, intense pleasure I’d ever felt pulsed through me.
My toes curled into the sheets, and I pulled against my restraints, trying to do something to ground myself in reality, but the pleasure was too immense. It made me feel as if I’d lost control of everything. I was senseless, disconnected from my body and yet able to feel every thing at the same time.
Callum put his mouth to mine, muffling my groans as we moaned into each other’s mouths. A second later, I felt him stiffen on top of me, felt a warmth between my legs as he came inside of me, filling me.
He collapsed onto my body, and the two of us laid there for a moment, our hearts beating in tandem until they’d slowed.
He reached up and unhooked my cuffs, pulled them off me and set them on the nightstand.
He turned onto his side until he was facing me.
“Hi,” he said softly
“Hi.”
“You okay?” His hand skimmed my hip and slid gently down over my ass, and I knew he was referring to how hard he’d spanked me.
I nodded. “I think so.”
“I have ibuprofen.”
“Thanks.”
“I couldn’t…I couldn’t control it, it was too strong.”
“It’s okay.” I wanted to ask him what it was he couldn’t control, what it was inside of him that made him want to hit me like that, what was it that could make him so tender with me one minute and then the next inflicting that kind of pain on me. But was it really pain if I’d found it so pleasurable? The whole thing was confusing.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded.
He stood up and walked into the closet, returned wearing a pair of loose grey pajama pants and no shirt.
He stretched his arms over his head, then turned and began walking out of the room. My heart fumbled with panic. Was he going to leave me here to sleep in this bed alone? I knew he’d said one night only, but surely that included the whole night, and not just until he was done having his way with me.
But a second later, he returned with two cartons of Ben ‘n Jerry’s.
It was so funny, so out of character for him, that I burst out laughing.
“What?” he demanded. “What’s so funny?
“Seeing you with ice cream,” I said.
“Why is seeing me with ice cream amusing to you?”
“Because you don’t seem like the processed sugar type.”
“And you don’t seem like the type to let me tie you to my bed and spank you silly, and yet it just happened.”
“Good point.” I felt the blush starting.
He held out the cartons, one of Phish Food, one of Peanut Butter Cup. “Which one?”
I chose the peanut butter cup, and he opened the carton for me, setting the lid on the nightstand next to him.
He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a remote, hit a button, and from the middle of the wall a partition opened up and a huge Ultra HD flat screen television appeared as if from nowhere.
“You like action movies, Lemon?” he asked.
“Love them,” I said honestly.
“Come closer,” he said, and I scooted over until my leg was touching his.
We watched movies and ate ice cream until three in the morning. I didn’t want the night to end, but my eyes were starting to close.
“Time for bed, Lemon,” he said, clicking off the television and shutting off the light.
I nodded and went to get out of the bed, but Callum wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back in. “Where are you going?” he murmured sleepily.
“I need to get ready for bed.”
“You are ready for bed.”
“No, I mean, I need to brush my teeth and wash my face.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t want you away from me for even a second.” He pulled me closer to him and snuggled against me. My body clicked into his perfectly, the curve of my back fitting into his stomach as he spooned me close.
After a few minutes, his breathing slowed and deepened, and I could tell he’d fallen asleep.
The door to the balcony was still open, and a warm breeze blew in from the Gulf, the sound of the waves ready to lull me to sleep.
This is it, I thought to myself. This is what it feels like to be truly content and happy.
It was my last thought before I drifted off to sleep.
***
When I woke again, at first I thought I was dreaming.
I could hear the sounds of Callum’s voice filtering in from the balcony, his tone low and serious.
I sat up in bed, gathering the covers around my naked body.
The sliding door was still open, the sheer curtains rippling in the ocean breeze that continued to come in off the Atlantic. I could see Callum out there, bent over the railing, his phone pressed to his ear. I glanced over at my own phone, which was sitting on the nightstand next to me. It was 4:03 am.
My heart leapt into my chest. Something was wrong. It had to be. You didn’t get phone calls at four o’clock in the morning unless something was wrong.
I pulled the sheets tighter around me, wondering what I should do. Maybe it was a business call. Maybe it was nine in the morning in some foreign country where Callum had business to attend to, and something had come up that needed to be taken care of immediately.
I told myself it was none of my business. Callum wasn’t my boyfriend. If something was wrong in his life, there was nothing I could do about it.
But it was impossible not to eavesdrop. He was right there, out on the balcony, and his voice drifted into the room.
“Please,” he was saying. “Please, you need t
o stop crying. I’ll be back in the morning. Stay at my place for the night. Samuel will let you in.”
There was pause.
“Honey, you need to stop this. You cannot keep doing this to yourself… I’ll take care of that, and anything else, but just -- please, you need to sleep at my place tonight.”
His tone was soft, gentle, like he was talking to a girlfriend.
Was Callum in a relationship? Was that why he insisted on only one night? Was that why he’d made me sign a paper saying that I wouldn’t attempt to contact him again? So his girlfriend wouldn’t find out? Or did the two of them have some kind of arrangement, the kind of arrangement where he was free to have sex with whomever he wanted, as long as that was all it was?
Rage seared my veins.
How dare he.
Yet I knew I had no right to be upset. He’d been honest with me every step of the way, asking me if I was okay with this, telling me I could leave at any time. I’d been a willing participant in his game of deception.
Callum ended his call and returned to the room.
He saw me sitting up in bed, and he looked startled.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said.
“That’s okay.” I swallowed. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” His voice was gruff, any trace of the gentleness he’d shown on the phone with whoever it was he’d been talking to completely gone.
He slid into bed next to me, and I laid back down. This time, he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he turned away, onto his side, his back to me.
I remembered what the rules had stipulated, about not asking him any personal questions. But what if something really was wrong?
I put my hand on his back. “Callum…” I started.
“Go to sleep, Adriana.” His tone was hard, making it clear that the matter wasn’t up for discussion.
Hot tears stung the back of my eyes at the coldness in his tone, but I blinked them away.
Then I turned over and tried to fall back asleep.
***
When I felt him get out of bed, it was six in the morning. I stayed still, listening to the sounds of the shower as Callum got ready and dressed. Once he’d gone downstairs, I waited a couple of minutes before I got up too, dragging my suitcase from the bedroom into the bathroom.
