When we arrive at the apartment, he pulls out his key but pauses. I look at him, waiting until he leans in and gently kisses my cheek. “Cataline?” he whispers, lingering there. “I love you.”
“Cal?”
He opens the door and holds it for me to pass through. I set down the painting and my purse before removing my shoes. When I look over my shoulder, he’s still in the doorway, watching me with heavily-lidded eyes.
It takes only three giant steps for him to reach me. “Kneel.”
“Calvin—”
“On your knees. Now. Do not make me tell you a third time.”
The shift in demeanor is so easy for him, it sends a shiver down my spine. I lift my chin. My lip twitches. “Or what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What happens if you have to tell me again?”
His expression doesn’t change, but his chest rises and falls a little faster. He seizes my arm and spins me around. I yelp with surprise as he bunches up the hem of my dress, yanks my tights over my ass, and spanks me hard. Before I can protest he hits me again, shocking me into silence.
“Should I get my belt, or are you ready to suck me off?”
My knees fold at the word belt. His heavy hand on my shoulder helps me to the ground faster.
“That’s it,” he mutters. His eyes are alive and fixed on me while he undoes his jeans. The waistband of my tights grips my thighs, forcing my legs together. Even in the mansion he never spanked me that way.
“Close your eyes for me.”
I do as he says, and one hand grabs my breast, squeezing, rubbing, pinching, and repeating.
“You’re such a tease, showing off your tits in this tight dress. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to fuck them. Then come all over your face. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Calvin,” I say.
“Open your mouth.”
His finger slips inside, and I suck instinctively. He adds fingers until my mouth is full, and he’s caressing my tongue, thrusting them to the back of my throat. “Wider,” he instructs. “Wider, Sparrow. Keep those eyes shut.”
Saliva sucks and spits as he fucks my mouth with his fingers, wetness leaking from my eyes because I’m trying not to gag. “That’s my good girl.”
I’ve never been wetter in my life. My body thrills remembering what it’s like to be completely dominated by Calvin. My tights are silky against my palms, and God how I need to be felt.
His hand snatches my wrist, and he raises my arm above my head so it’s extended. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself? Tonight is about me, Cataline. If you behave, maybe I’ll let you come. Leave it open.”
His fingers disappear, but he keeps my arm in an iron grip. He grabs his cock and holds it to his stomach, dropping his balls in my mouth. I test them with my tongue, and he moans. I suck, and he growls, so I keep doing that. His shaft rubs along the side of my face. He lifts his balls out and spreads pre-cum over my lips with his crown. “This is my mouth.” His free hand grasps my breast through my dress. “Mine.” He tugs up on my arm. “Look at me.”
My eyes immediately obey, snapping up to his. He enters my mouth, collecting saliva with firm thrusts to the back of my throat.
“Christ, that’s beautiful. Maybe I’ll film this and send it to any asshole who’s ever touched you.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head as best I can with my mouth stuffed. I’m not sure what terrifies me more: the idea of being filmed or that I believe he’d do it.
He chuckles, a sinister and gravelly sound. “Up.” He squeezes my wrist, pulling me to my feet. “Bend over.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “No, Calvin. I haven’t—I don’t want . . .”
“Don’t want what?”
I clear my throat, but it still comes out as a whisper. “Anal?”
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and folds me at a ninety-degree angle, stopping my face next to his wet dick. His hand remains there for a few moments, reminding me to stay put. He disappears from my sight, and I clench my thighs together. If I tell Calvin to stop, I know he will. I think he will. But my body is alive and writhing. It wants me to give Calvin whatever he needs. He returns after a moment and kneels behind me. His lips attach between my legs and come away with a smacking noise. “This isn’t for you, so don’t come,” he says. “Still the sweetest thing I ever tasted, though.” His tongue glides along the taut waistband of my tights, licking and massaging the aching area.
I can’t help my throaty moan when his teeth pull the skin where my thigh and ass cheek meet. Without a wasted second, his tongue is circling lower, just missing my clit. “Please,” I utter.
“I get so hard when you beg.”
“Please,” I say, but it pitches into a squeal when he sucks my clit into his mouth and bites lightly. He holds me between his teeth and flicks his tongue back and forth, sending agonizing ecstasy throughout my veins. My face is flushing, my mouth open in silent moans as pleasure nears its crest. My body protests when he leaves, screaming for him. He curls his hand into the roots of my hair as his cock drives into me with one confident stroke. Rooted there, he thrusts hard but short, feeling my insides deeper and deeper. He closes over me and pulls my head backwards at the same time. “Don’t come,” he says hotly in my ear. “I mean it. Do not come.”
I grip the backs of my thighs as he straightens up and gives it to me, his hands clutching my hips then sliding up my back, tangling in my hair, clasping over my shoulders, anywhere he can touch so all I feel is the scrape of his rough fingers and the relentless pounding.
“Tonight I own all parts of you,” he rumbles. “You’re nothing more than a little bird, caught in my cage.”
He pulls the elastic of my tights and snaps it against my thigh. Coldness shocks my lower back and drips between my buttocks. He rubs it down and over my asshole until I’m smeared with it.
“I’m only going to ask you this once. If you lie, I’ll know.”
My climax is building, but I try to suppress it, bite it away with sharp teeth in my bottom lip.
There’s pressure on my anus but nothing penetrates. “Did he fuck you here?”
“No,” I say emphatically.
“Why not?”
“I wouldn’t let him.”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Did he try?”
“Yes.” I’m so wet, the sound of our fucking is both melodic and filthy. “I’m going to come, Calvin,” I pant.
“Do it. I’m dying to give you the spanking of your life.”
I choke on an unexpected sob. I can’t seem to stop what’s coming. I’m trembling with impending release, alive with frustration. He must feel me clenching, preparing to dissolve into spasms, because he pulls out. “Get on the floor.”
With controlled but shaky movements, I lower myself to the ground so I’m flat on my stomach. He lies down next to me and pulls my back against him. A strong arm wraps around the front of my shoulders. With his other hand, he guides the tip of his cock through the lube and against my asshole. I clutch his forearm just under my throat, digging my fingernails into his skin.
“Shh,” he hushes when I writhe under his probing. His leg hooks over mine, stilling it with powerful muscle. He pushes his crown inside before reaching around to rub my clit. “I’ll fuck you good if you let me,” he says, “but your squirming is testing my control.”
My chest stutters with a deep inhalation, and I try to relax against his body.
“That’s it,” he says, his fingers moving in quiet circles. He kisses my cheek. “When you submit, when you give in, it makes me so hard.”
“Slow,” I breathe. His thrusts begin gently, but it’s not long before they’re searching faster, deeper. His arm tightens around me as he exhales in my hair. “Christ. Tell me how my dick feels up your ass.”
“No,” I squeak. His hand slaps my backside. “I feel full . . . of you.”
“Does it mak
e you want to come?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure I should let you.”
“Please,” I say. “Please, Calvin.”
Another smack stings me before he rolls onto my body. His arm remains secure around my shoulders as he thrusts, knocking my hipbones into the floor. He’s so hot as he pumps cum into my ass, his grunts muted from his mouth in my hair.
My body is shaking when he pulls out with a hiss. My exposed ass is hot where he slapped me and cold where he didn’t, and breath won’t come fast enough.
He gets to his feet, and I wince as I flip over. I move to pull up my tights or take them off, but I just look up at Calvin instead. He is, through and through, my master. He owns me so completely, and the thought is terrifying. His jeans are undone just enough that he hangs out, and there’s a glisten of sweat on his neck and forehead. His sweater is still casually pushed up around his elbows, remarkably unperturbed.
“Calvin?”
He jerks into motion, doing up his pants. “Stay.”
“Where are you going?”
“Outside. Put your palms on the floor and bend your knees.”
“But I’m—sticky. I need to clean up.”
“I guess you liked that spanking more than you let on.”
I purse my lips into a line. “Okay,” I say softly. I flatten my hands against the floor and assume the position.
“Don’t move.”
He leaves through the front door, and the room becomes colder. As confusion settles, the orgasm I almost caught fades away. Thoughts race through my mind, and I’m the same girl back in the mansion. His plaything. But after all this time without it, I’m now able to admit that it gets me off like nothing else. It’s being left alone on the hard floor that I don’t like. I raise my head, peering around as if there might be some clue as to where he’s gone. I’m not even close to the bedroom, since we only made it steps from the front door. I lower my head again and wait. Cum leaks out of my ass, making a wet spot on the floor.
The moon is howling. Blood billows to the bathwater’s surface in soft plumes. The burn is meaningful. I sift my fingers up out of the water, and my palms fill with tiny rosebuds.
I open my eyes to hot breath on my neck.
“Cataline, wake up.”
I groan with an achy body and look around in the dark. There’s a massive body on top of me, strength pinning my arms to my sides, and I stiffen as hardness presses between my legs.
“I hate that you could almost sleep through this,” Calvin whispers in my ear. He shifts, stretching my tights aside so he can get closer. I’m dry and sore as he pushes into me. “I could be anyone right now,” he continues against my skin. My pussy warms to him quickly, accepting his length and slickening. “Any sick fuck could break in and find you half naked on the floor. Lie on top of you, rape you.” I moan as his hips pull back and push back in. He lifts his head to look at me. “I hate that, Sparrow.”
I want to break free and touch him; he sounds almost sad. I settle for raising my head to kiss him. He won’t open his mouth for me, so I just whisper against them, “Nobody else can have me. I belong to you. I know you’ll kill anyone who tries to touch me.”
He makes hot noises into my ear, and my back arches off the floor. We come around the same time, rolling climaxes with no exact start or finish. When he’s done, I’m shaking from the intensity and from being in the same position for so long. He kisses over my dress until he reaches my lower tummy. He pulls the tights over my knees and removes them from my feet. I glance down, watching him kiss the red indents just below my tattoos. His hands massage me firmly. Even better than the relief is the feeling of being taken care of by him.
“Where did you go?” I ask, my voice sickly timid and meek.
“I had to think. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says against my leg.
With my hands free, I can touch his hair, a gesture that always brings me back to him.
“This is wrong,” he says.
“No, it isn’t,” I respond immediately.
“I love having you that way, completely helpless and reduced to nothing. You should see the way you look at me when you’re like that. Like I’m all you see.”
“You are all I see,” I say. “Underneath you, I’m godless.”
He glances up from between my legs, his hands still kneading the redness. “That’s wrong. And it’s addicting.”
“I asked for it,” I remind him.
“No. You asked for roleplaying. That wasn’t roleplaying. That was real. I get off on seeing you broken. This is me, and . . . I don’t know how else to be. Is this what you want?”
“I just want you as you are. I love when you’re tender, but I want all pieces of you.”
“Tender,” he says with a scoff.
“Yes. You are many different things in the same man.”
“I will disappoint you. I will hurt you. If I could be different, I would. But I don’t think I can.”
I sit up and take his jaw in my hands. I kiss and kiss and kiss until I think I’ve covered his entire face. “I told you once, break me. Hurt me. Just don’t leave.” My arms wrap tightly around his neck, and I press my cheek to his. “Promise me you won’t leave. You’re scaring me.”
He sighs. “You’d have to pry me off with a crowbar.”
I smile. “I love that you marked me so thoroughly tonight, but can I shower now?”
His chest vibrates with a laugh. “Yeah, if you don’t mind sharing.” He stands, helping me up after him. He spins me by my shoulders to unzip my dress so it drops at my feet, then hugs me from behind and kisses my cheek. “You go ahead. I’ll be a minute.”
I’m glad, because it gives me a chance to use the bathroom. I clean myself as best I can before starting the shower and stepping underneath the warm stream. Calvin comes in soon after, stripped to nothing. His eyes never leave mine as he enters the shower and kneels at my feet. “I’ve never wanted to both destroy and worship something the way I do you,” he says, kissing my stomach. His chin jabs into me as he looks up. “If you could only see how beautiful and sexy you are right now.”
I don’t feel beautiful; I feel like a wet dog. But I smile down at him and lace my fingers in his hair.
“You’ve always been the only girl in my eyes.”
“I’m not a girl, anymore,” I say, my voice unintentionally husky.
He kisses me again, and his lips travel lower. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
“Where do we go from here, Cal?”
He gets to his feet. “Banks Street.”
I cock my head at his quick and casual answer.
“I found us a place.”
“On Banks Street?”
“It’s a safer neighborhood and still close enough to the gallery.”
“It’s expensive.”
“I’ll worry about that.”
“I’m not letting you pay my rent.”
He looks at me like I’m a ridiculous child. “I’m not. I’m getting us an apartment. A nice, upscale place in a neighborhood where I don’t have to worry about you so much. This place is a shithole.”
“Hey,” I object, shoving his shoulder. “I’ve lived here for more than two years, and I love it.”
He looks around the bathroom. “I can’t live like this. This place is the size of my closet. My legs hang off your bed.”
I jut my lower lip. “It’s cozy and comfortable and the neighborhood has character. Banks Street, on the other hand, is dull. It’s for families and old, rich, white men.”
I try to pull away, but his strong arms have other ideas.
“I am a rich, white man, and you are my family,” he says.
“You forgot old.”
“I’m not old.”
“To me you are.” I kiss his chest. “My old, rich, white boyfriend. How old are you now anyway?”
“Thirty-six.”
I giggle. “Yep. You’re getting up there.”
“Could an old man d
o this?” he asks as he hoists me up over his shoulder.
“Calvin,” I exclaim. He steps out, shuts off the water, and exits the bathroom. “I didn’t even start my shower.”
“Too bad.” He flops me down on the bed and crawls in next to me, pulling the covers over us. His body curls around mine as he sticks his nose in my neck and inhales. “You and your tiny bed,” he says into my hair. “You didn’t eat dinner. Are you hungry?”
I sigh contentedly. “No. Are you?”
“I ate.”
I wriggle in his grasp. “Without me?”
He laughs in a gush of hot air against my skin. “No. You were there.”
I smack his arm around my waist. “Calvin.”
“You were fucking delicious.”
My face heats as I blush. I sink deeper against his body, and he responds by tightening his arms around me.
“Tell me about the past few years,” I say.
“What do you want to know?”
“Was it hard knowing people were suddenly more afraid of you than anything?” I wait silently, stroking his forearm.
“The only hard part was keeping my promise not to watch over you. Especially in the beginning and after Norman died.”
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” I exhale. “I was sure I’d never see you again.”
“I didn’t want you to love me because you were afraid or because I made you. I wanted it to be real.”
“It is real. Oh, Calvin, it’s so real.”
“I want it to be real, but bastard that I am, I’ll accept it either way. If it means you stay here.” He shakes me lightly. “Right here.”
“Were there other women?”
“It was years, Sparrow.”
I nod, swallowing down a sharp pang in my throat.
“But I’ll tell you a secret. None of them were real.”
I know the feeling. Sometimes with Grant, there was a valley between us that I didn’t know how to cross. I’d go through the motions, wishing he were someone else, wondering how damaged I must be to wish that someone were Calvin.
Keep Me: A HERO Novella Page 5
