Black Obsidian

by Victoria Quinn

  “Because I was a virgin?” I understood why that would turn some men on. He was the first to have me without having to compete with anyone from my past. To me, it didn’t really matter. I didn’t wait out of principle. With the progression of my life, I didn’t have time for romance. And even when I did, I didn’t know how to trust anyone. For whatever reason, Calloway was different. I detected something special inside him, some connection we both shared.

  “That has something to do with it. But there’s more.” He kissed my lips then sat up. “As much as I want to start up again, I need to eat. A man needs protein.”

  “Want me to cook you something?”

  “No.” He opened one of his drawers and pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants. “I’ll make you something.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I sat up and pulled the sheets with me because I was cold without them.

  He leaned over the bed and kissed me. “I know I don’t. I want to.”

  We had breakfast at the table. I was dressed in one of his large t-shirts with his boxers underneath. The smell of Calloway enveloped me and made it seem as if his arms were permanently wrapped around me even when he was ten feet away.

  He ate his breakfast but kept his eyes trained on me the entire time. Like he was watching TV, his attention was glued to me in fascination. His mouth slowly moved as he chewed his food, but the intensity of his gaze refused to dwindle.

  “How did you sleep?” I didn’t remember him waking up in the middle of the night. In fact, I was certain he didn’t move at all. His chest was pressed into my back the entire time. When he breathed, so did I.

  A slight reaction of surprise stretched across his face, like he hadn’t considered the topic before that moment. “Actually, I slept pretty great…” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out exactly what happened. His eyes broke their contact with mine as he continued to think about it in silence.

  Maybe all he needed to do was stop thinking about it to feel better. Whenever I had a clear mind, I stopped focusing on the bad and started focusing on the good. Maybe last night was a distraction for him. Maybe I was a distraction for him.

  Monday arrived quicker than either of us was ready for. I got up and got ready for work, and he did the same, both of us in a terrible mood. I didn’t want to go to the office and work until five. What I’d rather have been doing was staying home with Calloway—particularly in bed.

  Judging by his sour mood, he felt the same way. He sipped his coffee in silence and read the paper as he finished his eggs. His phone was on the table, and his suit made him look more like the powerhouse he already was.

  Then there was a knock at the door.

  “Who would stop by at this time of day?”

  He set the paper down and rose from the table. “Grab your stuff, Vanilla.”

  “Why?”

  He walked to the entryway without giving me an answer.

  I grabbed my purse and followed him, unsure what was waiting behind the door.

  A man in a black suit stood there, a town car parked at the curb. “Ms. Moretti, are you ready to go?”

  I eyed Calloway, unsure what this was about. “Go where?”

  “To work,” the man answered. “I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

  My eyes narrowed on Calloway. “What’s this about?”

  He didn’t give any kind of look of apology. “I don’t want you taking the subway anymore.”

  “What’s wrong with the subway?” I’d been riding the rail for years. I usually got a seat next to someone relatively normal, and when I read my paper and minded my own business, it was just fine.

  “Nothing. I just don’t want you on it.”

  I felt awkward having this conversation in front of a stranger. “Excuse us for a second.” I shut the door in his face even though it made me look rude as hell. “Calloway, what the hell is this about?”

  “I don’t want you riding the subway.” He kept his tone the same, but his eyes darkened. “He’ll drive you to work and pick you up. If there’s somewhere else you need to go, he’ll take you.”

  “Calloway, I don’t need a butler.”

  “He’s not a butler. He’s a driver.”

  “Whatever.” I was losing my temper and losing it fast. “I don’t need that either. I’ve been taking the subway since I’ve lived here, and I like it. I’m more likely to take a cab than a private chauffeur if you really want to press your argument.”

  “You aren’t taking a cab either.” In his suit and tie, he looked absolutely terrifying. He had all the power and control, and he wasn’t afraid to use both. Like a wall, he loomed over me and threatened me with his silence.

  “I’m doing whatever the hell I want. You aren’t the boss of me.”

  “Wrong.”

  My hands immediately balled into fists. “Excuse me? We just had a pretty incredible weekend, and you’re going to ruin it with this bullshit?”

  “It’s not bullshit.” He stepped forward and cornered me into the wall, his palms locking me in place as they created barriers on either side of me. “The subway isn’t safe for a beautiful woman like you. Neither is a cab. You’re going to get into that car whether you walk your ass inside or I put you in there. What’s it gonna be?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, threatening him with my own fire. “The subway is perfectly fine. I’ve been riding it for years.”

  “Those days are long gone.”

  “Calloway, no.”

  This time, he grabbed both of my arms and pinned them over my head. I wasn’t fighting him, but he restrained me anyway. “This is a fight you can’t win. This is a fight you’ll never win. I’m taking care of you. I’m protecting you. This is my job, so just accept it and be grateful.”

  “Be grateful that I’m being controlled?”

  “Not controlled. Just taken care of. Frankly, if I had it my way, you wouldn’t even have a job.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So I would sit at home all day and wait for you?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  His eyes shifted back and forth as he stared into my gaze. His thoughts were unreadable, but his mood was unmistakable. “I don’t know, Vanilla. But I know I’m not letting you take the subway or a cab. That’s final.”

  20

  Calloway

  “Thanks for calling me back.” Jackson was in my face the second I walked inside Ruin. “Oh wait, that’s right. You never did.” He trailed behind me as I made my way to the back office.

  “What did you need?” I didn’t fall prey to his whining. I used to when we were kids, but I learned at a young age it was better just to ignore him.

  “Business stuff that I already took care of.”

  “Looks like you didn’t need me after all, then.”

  “You’re right.” He continued to follow me, his voice chasing me. “Which makes me wonder why you’re in charge around here anymore. You haven’t been here for a week.”

  “You know Rome is staying with me.”

  “How long does it take to find an apartment?”

  “Pretty damn long in the city.” And I didn’t really care if she found another place or not. In fact, I hoped she didn’t. I got the door unlocked then walked inside. The lights automatically came on to a low level. I walked to the desk and immediately searched through the drawers.

  “What are you looking for?” Jackson watched me, his arms across his chest.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I rifled through the pens and notepads, searching for the black box I’d tossed inside nearly a lifetime ago.

  “Did you fuck her yet?”

  Talking about my personal endeavors with Rome suddenly made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to mention them to anyone, especially my perverted brother. “Instead of being obsessed with my sex life, you should concentrate on yours.”

  “My sex life is all over the place. Yours is the one that’s pathetic.”


  It didn’t feel pathetic this weekend.

  “I still think she’s a virgin.” He stared at me and asked the question without actually asking it.

  I refused to answer. “I guess you’ll never know.” I opened the last drawer and finally found what I was looking for. I popped the lid and saw the two rings inside. One was thick and made of solid black obsidian. The other was slimmer with a black diamond in the center. I grabbed the thicker one and placed it on my right ring finger.

  Jackson watched me, both of his eyebrows raising. “Oh, shit.”

  I closed the box and placed it inside my pocket.

  “She’s your submissive now?”

  “No.” But I wanted the world to know I wasn’t available. When enough time had passed and people knew Isabella and I weren’t getting back together, women would begin to make passes at me. But this ring was like bug repellent. It would keep the gnats away.

  “Then why are you wearing it?”

  “Even though she’s not my submissive now, doesn’t mean she won’t be very soon.”

  I was just about to leave the office when Bruce called me. He was Rome’s personal driver, and I paid him a lot of money to take her wherever she wanted, safely tucked in the back seat of a luxury car with windows so tinted it was like staring into deep space.

  “What’s up, Bruce?” I crossed my legs under the desk and adjusted my tie with my fingertips.

  “Sorry, boss. We have a problem.”

  I stiffened in my chair, anticipating what that problem was.

  “She ducked out from the back exit of the building. The front door is locked, and she’s gone. I suspect she’s on her way back to the house now.”

  I wanted to strangle her.

  “I’m sorry, boss,” he repeated. “She was in a bad mood this morning, but I didn’t think she was a flight risk.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Bruce. Thank you.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the table, a migraine forming deep behind my eyes. I loved Rome’s feistiness, her strong sense of independence and no bullshit. I found her attitude beautiful, even charming. But when she didn’t listen to my direct orders, it pissed me the fuck off.

  She needed to listen to me.

  I felt my hand shake at her disobedience. I wanted to spank her ass hard enough that her cheeks welted like my hand had been the leather bite from a belt. With Isabella, I told her what to do every instant we were together, and she obeyed. It was a year of perfection, of a perfect Dom with a perfect sub. Now, I had a woman who was a loose cannon, exceptionally beautiful and satisfying, but a huge pain in the ass.

  I wanted to come clean and explain my needs. I wanted to ask her to be my sub, to trust me to take us to a world of pleasure she would grow to appreciate. But I knew it was way too soon for that. She lost her virginity to me just a few days ago, and there was no way in hell she would listen to my proposition with an open mind.

  I had to steady my hand longer.

  I had to be patient.

  I had to gradually combat her.

  I had to restrain her.

  And I had to control her.

  When I walked into the house, she already had dinner cooking in the kitchen. The aroma of pot roast filled the air, the delectable scent of potatoes and spices heavy on my sinuses. For coming from an apartment with a microwave for a kitchen, she knew how to whip up some incredible things.

  But even if she were naked, I wouldn’t appreciate it.

  I tossed my heavy coat on the stand in the walkway and slammed the door behind me, wanting her to know I was there—and I was pissed. I marched into the kitchen, eager to grab her by the hair and push her to her knees. I wanted her to suck me off as a punishment, to let her knees ache against the tiles as she deep-throated me until she choked.

  I rounded the corner and stared her down, my expression a formidable storm.

  She glanced at me, and as if my threat meant nothing, she continued her work at the stove. “Dinner is almost ready.” She kept her voice steady like there wasn’t any kind of problem.

  The more she defied me, the more I wanted to control her.

  And that was bad news for her. “Did you take the subway?”

  She stirred the pot before she turned off the gas on the stove. The contents simmered with heat, bubbling at the surface. She turned to face me, her hand on her hip and her eyes guarded with steel armor. She wasn’t afraid of me.

  But she should’ve been.

  “Yes.” She continued her defiant attitude, not wincing or breaking her gaze. “And I’m going to take the subway tomorrow.”

  I took a deep breath because I felt my hands shake. An image of me grabbing her by the throat and shoving her into the wall filled my mind. I’d get in her face and command her to obey me, and if she didn’t, there would be consequences. Then she would apologize and call me her master.

  I was so fucking hard.

  But I couldn’t do that. Not without her explicit permission. “You aren’t taking the subway. Don’t push me, Vanilla.”

  “I’ll push you all I like.” She stared me down like a general in the midst of war. Corpses, weapons, and smoke didn’t make her blink an eye. This woman was fearless.

  But I was fearless too. I rushed her quicker than she could process, and before she could take a step back, I grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them behind her back. Then I grabbed her by the nape of her neck and shoved her into the living room. When I reached the nearest couch, I threw her on the cushions then pressed her down with my body. My cock was pressed right into her ass, and her wrists were pinned together against her lower back. My hand fisted her hair, keeping her head up.

  She tried to fight me but couldn’t wiggle free. “Get the hell off me.”

  “No.” I dug my cock into her harder, feeling my blood burn with desire. I hadn’t felt this high in so long. My domination was coming forth, powerful and blinding. It was a drug I was addicted to, and now that I broke my abstinence, it felt so good. “You’re taking the car tomorrow. Do you understand me?”

  She bucked her hips and tried to throw me off. “No.”

  My mouth went to her ear, and I kissed the shell, breathing hard into her canal. I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to submit or fight. Her resistance was arousing, but the thought of breaking her was a turn-on too. I nipped at her earlobe then brushed my tongue across her opening. “Do you understand me?”

  Her body stopped fighting, but she retained her silence. With her hands still pinned to the deep curve in her back, she held her neck up with her strength. Her legs shot out directly underneath her, her heels still on. She breathed hard but didn’t say a single word.

  “Vanilla, answer me. And give me the right answer.” I undid my slacks and pulled my boxers down until my cock was free. Lubrication leaked from the tip. A drop bubbled before it fell onto her black skirt.

  She didn’t fight me anymore, but she didn’t want to surrender. Every bone in her body screamed against the loss. But she knew she had to submit. She had to let me win. Because if she didn’t, this battle would continue forever. “Yes.”

  Fire burned deep inside my gut before it reached every limb and every nerve. Victory tasted so good, and the visit to my dominance was unbelievably thrilling. I had the control. I had the authority. It was like being reunited with a very close friend. “Yes, what?”

  Her voice came out as a whisper. “I understand.”

  I yanked her skirt up to her stomach and pulled her thong aside. My hands still pinned her wrists down even though she wasn’t fighting me anymore, and my cock slid into her opening and was greeted by her sheer wetness.

  Fuck yeah.

  It was still a tight fit despite all the fucking we did over the weekend, and I had to slowly sink into her until my shaft was completely sheathed. My hand never released her wrists. I loved her pinned down like this, submitting to me because she knew she lost this battle. I was her king, and she needed to bow to me.

  I pressed my mouth to her ear and thrust into he
r, feeling her tiny pussy resist my thick intrusion. With every movement, I felt like I was home. This was my place, where I claimed her to be mine and mine alone. No other man had ever marked the territory. I conquered it.

  I owned it.

  “Vanilla.” I breathed into her ear as I rocked into her, taking it slow because she wasn’t ready to fuck hard—at least, her pussy wasn’t. “I just want you to be safe.” My cock was invigorated by her slick pussy. It was never happier than it was when it was impaled deep inside her. My heart was working in overdrive, and I could barely contain my excitement. “Let me keep you safe.” I moved my face to her mouth and kissed the corner of her lips.

  She sighed when she felt my touch. Then she turned into the kiss and caressed my lips with hers, giving me those sexy and purposeful kisses I’d come to adore. Her embraces were like dynamite. Every single one was an explosion. “I know. It’s hard for me to let someone take care of me.”

  “I’m not just someone. So please let me.” I kissed her harder and sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. One of us had to give in if this relationship was going to last. And I certainly wasn’t the one who was going to cave. She would need to take down her walls and let me in completely. She would need to submit to me.

  She had to.

  She rocked her ass back into me, loving every inch of my thick cock. She took it like a pro despite her inexperienced state. After she cried the first time we fucked, she didn’t cry again. Now she wanted me inside her every second she could get.

  Her lips trembled against mine before she spoke. “I’ll try.”

  I moaned into her mouth because that was the first sign of submission. She considered giving me control. For the first time, she yielded to me. She gave me what I wanted, and she allowed me to fuck her against my couch with her wrists pinned to her back. She allowed me to do things she would never allow anyone else.

  I knew I would get what I wanted—soon.

  “Thank you for dinner.” I’d never considered hiring a maid because I didn’t want to share my space with anyone. I didn’t want anyone to see the things buried deep inside my drawers and in the back of my closet. In the state of New York, I had a well-known face. If people knew I was the owner of the biggest BDSM club on the East Coast, people wouldn’t exactly trust me anymore. I would just be a freak—as I’d been called before.