Because He Breaks Me

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by Hannah Ford




  BECAUSE HE BREAKS ME

  Because He Owns Me, Book Five

  Hannah Ford

  Contents

  Copyright

  BECAUSE HE BREAKS ME

  Copyright © 2015 by Hannah Ford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  BECAUSE HE BREAKS ME

  ADRIANA

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Adriana,” he breathed. “And then I’m going to make you mine forever.”

  He slid the straps of my bra down over my shoulders, but stopped short of removing my bra or unhooking it. Instead, he pulled me to him and I buried my face against his muscular chest as he held me close and stroked my hair.

  My eyes locked on the alarm clock next to my bed as it turned to 11:11.

  11:11.

  I closed my eyes and made the silent wish, the wish that he would be mine, that he would let me in, that we could have something even remotely close to normal.

  He held me for a while, his hands moving over the small of my back until they finally drifted up my body to the clasp of my bra. He unhooked it expertly, and my breasts spilled out, my nipples stiffening instantly in the cool air of the room, the only part of me that was suddenly cold while the rest of my body burned bright like a roaring furnace.

  He took my breasts in his hands and lowered his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth. I watched him as he licked and sucked the pebbled peek, his stubble brushing against my skin.

  I arched my back and to give him better access, crying out as he moved to my other breast, his mouth warming my skin until my whole body scorching even hotter than it had before.

  I took in a shuddering breath as his hand wandered down my side, my tit still in his mouth, his tongue and lips working, sucking, licking, flooding my pussy with an exquisite ache.

  He flattened his palm against my hipbone, and moved further down, his thumb grazing the outside of my panties, his sucking on my tit becoming more insistent as he felt how wet I was already, how the soft fabric of my panties stuck to my skin. But he didn’t try to get to my bare pussy.

  Instead, he grabbed my leg and pulled it up over his hip, grinding into me so I could feel how hard his cock was. I pushed into his dick and he let me, his hands digging into my ass, his nails dragging over my skin.

  I gasped as he moved his mouth off my nipple with an audible pop.

  He grinned at me then, that devilish grin of his, the one he gave me when he knew I was completely at his mercy, wanting and willing to do whatever it was he desired or required of me.

  Then he pulled down the covers, and I tried to grab them, to pull them back over myself, but he wrenched them from my grasp and threw them onto the floor.

  “I need to see you,” he said, and then he slid down my body, his breath moving over my skin like a wave until he got to my pussy. I was still on my side, and he pulled my right leg up and pushed it over his shoulder.

  His mouth was right near my pussy and he ran his finger over my panties and down my slit.

  “Shit, Adriana,” he said. “Your so fucking wet, baby.”

  He slowly tugged my panties to the side, baring one of my pussy lips to him.

  I groaned.

  “Shh, baby,” he said, and pulled my panties all the way over. He slapped my pussy with the flat of his open palm. “Quiet.”

  I squirmed a tiny bit and wiggled my hips, feeling like I would go insane if he didn’t put his mouth on me.

  Instead, he continued his torture, taking the pad of his thumb and pressing it against my wet pussy, working it slowly, slowly, slowly inside of me, millimeter by millimeter until he finally found my clit. He rubbed it softly, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

  “God damn, Lemon,” he said. “You are still so tight, even after that hard fucking I gave you last night.” He pulled his finger out of me and I whimpered a little until he slapped my pussy again, my sign that he wanted me to quiet.

  He waited a long beat, which felt like an eternity, then grabbed the sides of my panties and pulled them off me agonizingly slowly. Then he spread my pussy open, his index and middle fingers forming a V to pull the hood of my clit back.

  He groaned, then he blew on my open pussy softly, the sensation causing me to grab the pillow that was under my head with one hand and twist the sheets in my fingers with the other.

  And then his tongue was on my clit, licking me, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue sliding up inside of me.

  I couldn’t take it anymore, and I looked down at him, saw myself spread out, his mouth on me, kissing me open mouthed on my pussy, eating me. He stopped for a moment, the arch of his top lip twitching into a smile.

  “You like watching me eat that sweet pussy, Lemon?”

  I nodded, suddenly shy.

  His grin grew more devilish. “Say it.”

  “I like watching you eat my pussy.”

  He continued to fuck me with his tongue, his mouth more insistent now, his hand grabbing my ass and pulling me into him. My hands found his hair, and I ran my fingers through the soft strands, surprised he was allowing me to touch him like that.

  “Callum,” I breathed. “Oh my God, Callum.”

  He licked and sucked me for what felt like forever, instinctually knowing when I was on the brink of coming, and pulling back when he knew I was close. He played with the folds of my pussy, spreading me apart, kissing my slit, his hands and mouth in control and expert at what he was doing.

  My whole body was screaming for relief, every nerve ending alive with ecstasy.

  “I’m going to come,” I said, and he immediately stopped and slid back up my body.

  “Not yet, baby,” he murmured.

  He wrapped his arms around me, steadying one hand on my hip. I looked away from him the way he liked, but he cupped my chin and pulled it back toward him. “Look at me while I slide inside your pussy.”

  Our gazes locked, my brown eyes onto his blue ones as he lined me up over his cock. I gasped as he began to push inside of me. He was so thick and hard, the swollen head of his dick causing me to stretch out around him, even though I was dripping wet.

  “That’s it, baby,” he said. “Good girl.”

  His hand moved down my body and pulled my leg up further on his hip as he began fucking me. We were still staring into each other’s eyes, and it was so intense and intimate that finally, I had to look away.

  I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as he pushed further inside of me, and I felt his hands brushing my hair back off my shoulders, felt his mouth find my nipple again.

  Him sucking my tit coupled while his dick was finally buried all the way in my pussy made me moan.

  He reached around and grabbed the back of my head gently, pulled it back up so that I was forced to look at him.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “Keep your eyes open.”

  I did as he said, but it almost felt like too much, the sensations, the emotions, the two of us staring at each other as he moved inside of me.

  “Adriana,” he breathed. “Oh my God, Adriana, you are so beautiful.”

  I could feel him everywhere, not just physically inside of me, but his soul, his spirit, somehow connecting with mine. The physical sensation was out of this world, nothing I could ever put into words or articulate. It was beyond my comprehension.

  He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth, his stubble rubbing against my chin as he continued to fuck me. He picked up the pace,
his hips pressing into mine, and then he slowed down, slower and slower until he was just inside of me, but not moving.

  Our chests were pressed together, and I could feel his heart beating in tandem with mine, steady through the chiseled muscles of his pecs.

  He was still kissing me, hard and deep, his hands moving through my hair, over my shoulders, every touch leaving a searing trail of heat. I was feverish and hungry for him, and I was glad he’d taken the blanket off me, because I was so hot I was sure I was going to combust.

  He took my hand in his and slid it down to where he was inside of me, placing it gently on his shaft as he pulled out of me and then slid back in.

  “Feel how I’m making you mine,” he whispered and I groaned.

  I closed my eyes, but he wasn’t having it. “Look at me,” he commanded gruffly.

  I opened my eyes and he groaned.

  “Callum,” I whispered. “Oh, Callum.”

  The sound of his name on my lips made him move faster and he held the back of my neck gently as he fucked me, the two of his moaning into each other’s mouths as he kissed me again.

  I felt my orgasm building, and I could tell from the way his kiss became deeper and more intense that he could tell it was building too. This time, though, he didn’t tease me.

  Instead, he kissed me harder, his hands tangling in my hair.

  He pulled away and stared into my eyes, the pleasure on his face apparent as he fucked me.

  “Callum,” I whispered. “I’m going to come.”

  “Come, baby,” he said. His eyes were still locked onto mine, and I felt like he could see me, really see me, felt like I was exposed to him, not just my body, but everything, my soul, my mind, my emotions. I felt like he was seeing every part of me, was loving every part of me.

  The electricity crackled and burned, and he put his mouth back on mine as I came, my pussy gripping his hard dick, taking it all inside of me. As the first pulse of my orgasm ripped through my body, I felt him spasm inside of me, pumping into me hard, making me take every ounce of his come.

  “That’s it,” he groaned. “That’s it, baby, take my cum in that tight little pussy.”

  His dirty words mixed with the way he was moving inside of me, how laid bare I’d felt with him, caused the next pulse of my orgasm to intensify, and I cried out, but he silenced me with a kiss as he pumped more cum into me.

  I felt the wave of my orgasm crest inside of my body, felt like Callum was right there riding it with me as I broke into a million little pieces.

  He stayed inside of me for a moment as my breathing began to return to normal, pulling me close to him as we both recovered. The heat that had burned through my body began to ebb away, and Callum grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around me as he pulled me close to him, holding me in his arms.

  Now that I was coming down from my high, reality was starting to set in, and I felt the first pang of anxiety.

  I’d let him in again.

  I did my best to do what my therapist back in Michigan had always told me to do when I got anxious, which was to try and stay in the moment, to take each thought and label it according to what was really going on, not according to which emotions had attached to my thoughts.

  I was trying to figure out how I could keep my emotions out of the fact that I’d just had sex with a man who’d been acting like a total jackass to me, a man who had basically broken into my apartment, when Callum broke the silence.

  “I’ve never done that before,” he said, his voice cutting into my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “What we just did.” His fingers moved lazily down my back, and I felt myself get hot between my legs again.

  I laughed. “I think you’ve had sex before Callum.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not like that.”

  “Not like what?”

  “Not vanilla sex.”

  “What’s vanilla sex?”

  “That,” he said. “No ropes. No whips. No handcuffs.”

  “You’ve never had sex without that stuff?”

  “Not since…” he trailed off.

  “Not since what?” I asked gently. My head was against his chest, and I could hear his heart beating slow and steady. I ran my palm over the taut muscles of his chest, marveling at how fit his body was, how strong.

  “Adriana,” he said, and he turned and pulled me toward him so that we were both on our sides facing each other. The room was dark, and he was bathed in shadow, but the light that faded into the room from the hallway hit his face softly, causing the blue in his eyes to blaze like a light at the end of a tunnel. “What happened this morning, with Rose. That wasn’t your fault. I was an asshole.”

  “You were,” I said, not even bothering to try to pretend it was okay. “You made me feel horrible.”

  “I know,” he said. “You were an angel to bring her there, to take care of her the way you did.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “She’s going to be okay. The doctors said if you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t called 911 when you did, she probably wouldn’t have made it.”

  “I did what anyone else would have done.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Rose told me what happened. You could have left. You should have left, after the way I took off like that.”

  He sighed and shifted so he was back lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He rubbed his hands over the stubble on his cheeks.

  “Who is she?” I asked softly. “Rose, is she… I mean, I know you said she’s a friend but she told me she lives there. At your um, that apartment. The one you use for sex.”

  “She stays there sometimes.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” I tasted something bitter in my mouth, thinking about him doing what we’d just done with Rose, even though he’d just said he’d never done that before. I imagined him whispering her name instead of mine, making her say his name, his hands in her hair, his lips on hers.

  Of course I wasn’t stupid – the man had a whole apartment that he basically used for a sex palace. He was gorgeous and rich and sexy as hell. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many women he’d been with.

  But something about Rose was different, visceral. I’d met her. I’d seen her there, in his apartment, I’d heard him talking to her.

  “No,” Callum said. “I’m not sleeping with her.”

  “Have you ever?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, even though I’d been expecting it.

  “Rose is…” Callum trailed off and sighed again. “It’s complicated.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It will scare you away.” His voice was heavy with emotion, the first time I’d heard that kind of rawness from him, the first time I’d seen a real sign that he might be able to let his walls down.

  “No,” I said, taking his hand and intertwining my fingers with his. “No, it won’t.” As soon as I was done saying the words, I realized I was making a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. But it was too late. I couldn’t take them back. I wanted to know what it was he was hiding, what dark thing was twisting him up inside.

  He swallowed and turned his head to look at me, reaching his thumb out and tracing it down the line of my cheekbone. “God, you are so beautiful,” he said. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  I closed my eyes and let the comment wash over me, biting back the instinct I had to protest that I wasn’t.

  “You deserve better, Adriana,” he said. “You deserve better than me.” He shook his head. “The problem is, I can’t stay away from you. I can’t control myself when I’m around you, you’re in my head, and you’re fucking me up.”

  “Then tell me,” I said. “Whatever it is, just tell me, Callum.”

  His eyes searched my face in the darkness, like he was looking for a clue, some indication of whether or not I could handle whatever it was he was about to say.
I tried not to show any judgment on my face, and honestly, it wasn’t that difficult.

  I’d felt him inside of me, felt his soul, his being.

  I couldn’t explain how I knew, but I just did, that he wasn’t a bad person. Whatever he was about to tell me couldn’t scare me away. It was impossible.

  He opened his mouth. “Rose was my sponsor.”

  “Your sponsor?” I frowned, turning this new information over in my head. “Like for AA?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m an addict, Adriana. I started drinking when I was a teenager, and it progressed to the point where it became a problem.”

  I swallowed and waited a moment before I spoke, trying to more fully absorb what he’d just said. I knew that people didn’t become addicts for no reason, that usually it was related to something else – trauma, depression, anxiety, all of the above. The fact that he was telling me he was an addict was only the tip of the iceberg, and I didn’t want to push him too hard. “Drugs?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. They were never my thing. Rose, she… she helped me to get clean. We meet at a meeting five years ago, and she’d been clean for three years. She became my sponsor.”

  “So what happened?” I asked softly.

  His eyes lost a bit of their focus, like he was being pulled from the present into the past, going back in time to remember something he obviously tried not to think about. “We got clean. Well, she got me clean, and everything was… it was going well. We were friends. And then, one night we had sex.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It was stupid really. I don’t even remember how it started. My family, they were –” He cut himself off before he could say more. “The reasons aren’t important. But we had sex, even though we knew it was a horrible idea.”

  My heart hitched in my chest at his words, but I forced myself to hold steady, not wanting to give him any reason to shut down.

  I stayed quiet and gripped his hand tighter under the blanket.

  “But the next night, we did it again.” He took in a shuddering breath. The next morning, we had a talk about how it couldn’t happen again. She seemed fine with it and I’d thought we were in agreement. She went home. That night, she relapsed.”

 

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