Compulsive Fascinations

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Compulsive Fascinations Page 9

by N. Isabelle Blanco


  Instead, my body imploded from the inside. Emotions collided with sensations, making me go wild against his hand.

  I fucking came.

  Painful.

  Searing.

  Small, desperate screams left me over and over again, echoing inside the back of the limo.

  My body betrayed me, proving his point.

  I belonged to that man. Whether I wanted to or not.

  Calum yanked me down onto his lap, pressing his tip to my opening. I was still coming when he slammed into me with one rough thrust. “Ah, fuck!” he moaned, teeth bared. Grabbing my ass, he held me still for his next thrust. “God, yes, Liv. Yes.”

  I grabbed onto his neck, holding on. My walls convulsed, my body seeming incapable of handling a single ounce more of pleasure.

  My hands brought him closer. My legs spread and I slid down his thick cock, all the way to the hilt. Mouth-to-mouth, I breathed his moans into me.

  I still couldn’t get close enough.

  Calum leaned back, arms wrapped tight around me, sprawling against the back of the seat. “That’s it, baby. Ride me. Show me how much you missed my cock.”

  Christ. The orgasm had only made me hungrier. It was never enough with him.

  Never. Enough.

  “I want your cum inside me,” I begged, opening my eyes to watch him as I slid up and down his length.

  Fuck. Me. His eyes. He stared at me like I meant everything to him. Everything.

  “Who do you belong to? Say it.”

  “Oh God. Calum.” I pressed myself to him, wanting to smother myself in his skin but our clothes got in the way.

  He pushed up, seating himself as far into my body as he could. I felt that thrust go straight into the pit of me, where I was the most open and vulnerable. The most needy for him.

  He didn't move, letting me soak in each beat his heart gave.

  “Baby, please,” I begged breathlessly, moving my hips as much as his hold would allow. His cock teased every ridge inside me, the tip pressing just past the point of pain.

  “Tell me how that feels.” His hands slid down to my ass, kneading the flesh while keeping me right where he wanted me.

  His hands on my ass excited me even more, a reminder of what he'd done to me last night. What he'd promised he'd do to me.

  My walls clenched around him, heat pooling in my clit. Yet another orgasm building.

  I shamelessly spread my legs, offering more of my ass for him to grab.

  He moaned. “Uhhh. Yeah. That's it. Tell me what you feel when I'm inside you, baby.” He squeezed my flesh harder, spreading me apart until every bit of me was wide open for him.

  “Calum,” I whispered. “More.” I needed his touch there again, teasing my opening. Oh, God. I'd come so hard this time, with his beautiful dick inside me.

  “Liv.” He rocked his hips in a small circle, as if helpless not to.

  A small cry left me, my walls fluttering.

  “I need to know how I make you feel, Liv.” The hint of vulnerability behind his tone tore me open.

  Fuck. Anything. I would've given him anything right then. “I feel you. Perfect. Too perfect. I want more. It's never enough, Calum.”

  “It's never going to be enough.” He growled, raising me and urging me into a slow rhythm.

  I grabbed my breast with one hand, offering it to him.

  He sucked me in with a rough groan, like he'd been dying to have me back in his mouth.

  Yes. His hot mouth wrapped around my nipple. His silky tongue playing with me.

  I fought the urge to let my head fall back, too turned on by the sight of his agonized expression to let it go. I ran my thumb along the line of his jaw, moaning when he gave my nipple a soft suck.

  “Ah, God. Ungh. Calum . . . I want to give you everything.” I couldn’t even care that I’d just confessed that to him. My body stretched tight, hungry for everything he had.

  “I feel you milking me,” he rasped against my wet nipple. Tilting his head back, he stared up at me, his lips damp and swollen. “Kiss me, baby. I want you to show me what I mean to you while you make me come.”

  There was no denying him. Not when he stared at me that way, hazel eyes dark and burning with the desperation I sensed in him.

  Whimpering, I cupped his gorgeous face and leaned forward. He parted his lips instantly, wantonly meeting my tongue.

  The pleasure jolted straight to my pussy. Calum lapped roughly at me, his small groans making me wilder.

  “That’s it, baby. That’s it.” He sucked at my top lip softly. “Take what’s yours.”

  Hearing him say that, his dick sliding in and out of me in time to those words . . .

  Mind-numbing spasms hit, robbing me of every ounce of common sense. Nearly sobbing from how good it felt, I pulled him into another kiss, pouring everything I had into it.

  Letting him feel everything locked inside me, every emotion he caused.

  Calum enfolded me in his arms, kissing me back just as wildly. “Yes. Making me come. So hard. Liv.” He threw his head back, his entire body tensing against the back of the seat. But he didn’t break our stare, cupping my nape and forcing me to keep looking at him as he rode out his own orgasm.

  His cock jerked powerfully inside me, his throbs perfectly matching my own.

  The whole time he looked at me, his eyes both wild and tender, tethering me to him on every level.

  Even after we’d both come, something urgent continued pouring out him—pouring out of me, and I didn’t know what to do in the face of it.

  I wanted to look away.

  Hide.

  He didn’t let me do either. Chest heaving, he brought me close, pressing my face gently to his chest. Cradling me.

  With his dick still inside me, he held me for long moments, his hands caressing the back of my head, down the length of my spine.

  I clung to him just as fiercely, ignoring how scared I was.

  How could I not be? What had just happened between us . . . how did being separated for less than a day drive us to that point?

  “Never again, Livana,” Calum mumbled, nuzzling the side of my face.

  Limp and breathless, I just stayed there, loving the sound of his heart beating under my ear.

  He nuzzled my cheek again, pressing a soft, sweet kiss there that made me want to cry. “Promise me.”

  “I already did,” I whispered.

  “I want to hear it again. Now.”

  “I promise I’ll stay and talk things out next time.”

  His chest rose with a relieved sigh.

  I was so happy in that moment. So damned happy.

  And it scared me. Insanely. Because deep down, I couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t last.

  “You know the Chicago Design Conference is in two weeks.”

  Calum’s abrupt change of subject left me confused. Scowling, I stared up at him, surprised to find him staring down at me with a serious expression.

  One that bordered on anxious.

  “Oh . . . kay?” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. Of course I knew about the design conference. Everyone in the architecture, media design, and art world would be attending.

  My father was busy preparing to leave in less than a week.

  He took a deep breath.

  And didn’t let it out for a good long while. Alarmed, I tried to sit up.

  His arms kept me in place. As always.

  “I want us to go. Together. I want you to come with me and stay with me in my hotel room. Be my date to any event your father won’t be attending, if you can.”

  The full impact of what he’d just said took several seconds to sink in. When it did, my lips parted with a surprised exhale, eyes wide and locked with his.

  People would see us there together. People that held insanely important positions in our social circles. Us going on dates together while there would be the equivalent of him announcing to the world that I was with him. In that sense.

&n
bsp; “Calum, do you realize what people seeing us together will make them think?”

  His jaw tensed, and I realized too late that my question had upset him. “Do you care what they will think if they see me with you?”

  Oh my God. That wasn’t how I’d meant it. Shaking my head, I hurried to explain, “No. Not like that—”

  “So, them aside, why else wouldn’t you be able to come?”

  I wanted to groan with the frustration of dealing with my messed up feelings. Either it was logic, or emotion, but something told me that this was Calum’s way of possibly taking things to the next level with us.

  If that was true, it meant he did want more with me.

  Me.

  Stupid, broken, emotionally stunted me, with more issues when it came to love than anyone else I knew.

  Me, who didn’t trust a man any more than I could lift and throw him.

  Calum cupped my chin, his touch achingly tender. “You don’t have to answer right this moment, but please promise me you’ll think about it seriously. I’ll be gone for only a few days, but I want you there with me Livana.”

  Every single issue I possessed wanted me to blurt out a resounding no.

  I pushed them back with everything I had. This beautiful, sweet, seemingly amazing man had gone out of his way to search me out. He’d come after me, knowing I embodied the very definition of a hot mess.

  He wanted me to go with him to Chicago.

  “Liv, I can’t stand being away from you for even that long. Not with how things are between us right now.”

  Calum wanted me to go with him because he hated being away from me for a few days?

  Mother of God. It’s like he’d been put on this Earth specifically to test every one of my beliefs. To force his way past my psychotic problems.

  Would I be such a bitch to him again and refuse outright?

  The answer was simple: no matter how scared, I couldn’t.

  That didn’t mean I’d just agree right then either.

  “I promise I’ll think about it,” I said in a small voice, hoping that it would be enough to get that worried expression off his face.

  It was. His lips parted in a breathtaking smile. As if by simply promising I’d entertain the idea, I’d given him an amazing gift.

  What this man did to me. Help me God.

  He kissed my forehead, then moved down to press his lips to my own, staying there for several seconds.

  “I hate to do this, but I have a meeting later on today, and I need to get back to work.” Calum moved me off him, making sure I was settled on the seat next to him before reaching over to grab a napkin out of the minibar on the right side of the limo.

  I actually blushed when he reached between my legs to help clean me up. Something we’d done hundreds of times before. Guess being in the limo of all places made me shyer about it than I normally would have been.

  He gave me a cute half-grin when he saw me blushing. “Always gets to me when you do that.”

  “Why?” I asked, watching as he cleaned himself off and began straightening his clothes.

  Calum reached over and clipped my bra back on. “Because you usually seem so sure of yourself. So confident.” He began buttoning up my dress shirt.

  Me? Oh wow. Really? And here I’d been convinced that he clearly saw every insecurity. Every fear. “I’m not always so sure of myself. Trust me.”

  He paused at that, taking my face in his hands and giving me yet another kiss. Staring at me, he ran his thumbs across my cheeks for a few seconds.

  I tried to read him, understand why he seemed grateful I’d admitted that, but I got nothing. “I’ll do it,” I told him when he reached down to adjust my skirt.

  He nodded and went in search of my underwear. My thong looked ridiculously tiny in his hand when he held it out to me. I took it from him and slipped back into it, smoothing my hands down my clothes one more time.

  “You can tell your driver to drop me off here; I’ll take a taxi the rest of the way.”

  I glared at him, annoyed he’d even suggest that. “Uh . . . how about no?”

  “Liv, I’ve already made you late to work.”

  “And I fucking loved every second of the sex we just had, so do you see me regretting it?”

  He laughed and gave me yet another kiss. “There’s my girl,” he murmured against my lips.

  Jesus-H-Christ, I almost choked on my tongue hearing that. The anxiety the comment caused was expected.

  The intense flare of yearning that pierced me straight through the chest wasn’t.

  Deciding to ignore it—at least until he was gone—I placed my finger on the intercom and told Morgan where to drop Calum off.

  Calum pulled me into his side and held me the whole way, both of us lost in our own thoughts. His fingers caressed the back of my head, almost lulling me to sleep.

  “Livana, we’re here baby.”

  I blinked my eyes open, surprised. Shit. Had I actually fallen asleep for a bit there? Made sense. I hadn’t slept much last night after my argument with him.

  The slightly amused look in his eyes told me I had nodded off.

  He kissed my forehead softly. “I’ll call you when I’m out of my meeting.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

  Calum tilted my head back and kissed me one last time. “Remember to think about what I said.”

  “I will.” I puckered my lips up for one more kiss.

  Smiling, he tilted his head and gave me a thorough kiss, slipping his tongue to tease mine in a way that managed to make my toes curl in my heels.

  I watched him exit the limo, my chest and mind an aching mess of confusion and lust.

  “Back to work, Ms. Payne?”

  Sighing, I shook my head, even though Morgan couldn’t see me. Calum had left me with a lot to mull over. And considering that the design conference would be soon, I hadn’t been left with much time to reflect on it all.

  I needed advice. Mikael returned to work and I didn’t want to interrupt him with my drama.

  Besides, as close to being my “girlfriend” as Mikael was, he wasn’t really within the gender group of what I needed.

  No. I needed one of my girls and I needed them bad.

  Angelina . . . the biggest sweetheart I knew.

  And also one of the most vicious vipers when angered.

  Confessing to her would be like throwing myself into an alligator pit and hoping for the best. Sure, she’d be there for me once the fury passed.

  But still. The fury would have to first pass, and I didn’t have time for that shit.

  Demitra also was a sweetheart. Usually. No guarantees she wouldn’t kick my ass when I confessed that I’d been hiding Calum—her boss’s best friend—and what we’d been up to for over four months now.

  I let my head drop back as I mulled it over.

  Evil or worse than evil.

  In other words, Demitra or Angelina.

  Fuck. I knew which one I’d go with.

  “Morgan, take me over to Columbia University.”

  Demi was going to fucking kill me, but at least she’d be quick about it. Ang would mentally torture me for months before delivering the end.

  9

  I’d gone there to confess to Demitra. To get her advice. I’d run to her school and had dragged her into a small garden tucked away off one of the campus’ walkways. We sat down on one of the benches¸ and I’d just spewed it all out to her, everything about Calum and me. How I suspected that he wanted more than what we’d originally agreed on.

  I could’ve never guessed what would come next.

  Trust me. I swear this.

  Never in a million years did I imagine she’d end up confessing to me.

  Holy shit. She’d been fucking Dorian Sorenson? A man that most women walked around without panties on in the hopes that he’d at least look at them for more than a few seconds?

  Demitra became the lover of her ex-boss, manwhore of the century, and one of the sexie
st bachelors on the market? “You? You?” I knew my disbelief was evident in my tone. “You’ve been sleeping with your boss on the DL?” Seriously. What freaking universe had I just stepped into?

  Demitra’s light blue eyes glared at me. “I’m trying real hard to not be offended by that right now, Liv.”

  An image flashed in my mind again of what Dorian Sorenson looked like, and a rush of admiration went through me. Smiling, I reached up and slapped her lightly on the back. “Fucking hell. I thought you were a prude.” Well, not a prude exactly, but way too damn innocent for her own good.

  Her glare morphed into a pout. “Fuck you.”

  I laughed, relieved for some reason. “What? I’m actually proud of you right now. Dorian is a hot piece of ass.” A really, really hot piece of ass. “I never saw it coming. I’ll admit it.” Understatement.

  But Demi had gotten the job because of her father, which reminded me . . . “Wasn't he still your boss when it started?” My smile dropped when Demitra nodded at me. “Oh.” Shit. Double shit. “How’s your dad taking it?”

  “He doesn’t know, yet.” Demitra’s guilty expression made total sense. Her father had been friends with Dorian’s father when he’d still been alive. “But only because I have no idea where this is going,” Demi continued, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t give a damn if he gets mad at the age difference. I love my dad but I’m old enough to decide who I want to be with. What I do care about is him fighting with Dorian over it. They’re friends. I just hope they remain friends after this.”

  The hopes of that bordered on minimal. Not that Demi’s father was an asshole, but I just didn’t see how any dad would be okay with the situation. I had no idea how I’d ever tell my father if Calum and I ended up becoming serious. “Are you guys official? How serious is it?”

  Demi practically squirmed with restless, nervous energy. My heart ached for her in that moment. “You guys haven’t talked about it, either, huh?” I asked.

  She shrugged, lips twisting ruefully. “I am in the same situation that you are. He’s definitely into me and I think he might want more, but we haven’t spoken about it. We also want to tell my dad as soon as possible, but we didn’t get the chance. Dorian came back just as my dad left. The next time they see each other will be in Chicago for the design festival and I won’t be there. So we’ll have to wait until they both get back to even think about having that talk.”

 

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