She sat across from me and took small bites. She always chewed like a rabbit, barely moving her mouth and eating so little it didn’t seem like she ate anything at all. Her attitude toward food couldn’t be shaken, and with every bite she took, her guilt only increased. “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me stay here.”
I wasn’t letting her stay there. She was letting me let her stay there—big difference.
Her eyes moved to my hand on the table. She spotted the black ring because it contrasted so sharply against my fair skin. It was thick and bold, looking like solid rock. The ring had a certain heaviness to it. The second I put it back on, I had to get used to the difference. But the weight felt good because it represented something beautiful. “Interesting ring.”
I didn’t glance at it. I continued to eat quietly, my eyes enjoying the feast sitting across from me.
“I’ve never seen you wear that before.”
“It’s something I’ve had forever.”
“I like it.”
Good. Because she’d be wearing one soon. “Thanks.”
“It’s the thickest ring I’ve ever seen.”
Because I’m thick too. “Would you like to see it?” I pulled it off and pushed it across the table toward her.
She eyed it without picking it up.
The ring was thick with power, the Dom ring that everyone in my world respected. It represented strength and authority, and the submissive ring was just as powerful. It represented consent, beauty, and trust. The ring bearer relinquished all control to another human being. The mutual respect, friendship, and trust had to be unshakeable for such an arrangement to succeed.
She finally picked it up, her fingers brushing along the cool metal. She examined it closely, looking for a marking within the material. She studied it for nearly a minute before she finally returned it.
She felt the power. It rang quietly in her ears. I could see it in her eyes as well as her plump lips. Electricity coursed through her at lightning speed, burning her fingertips once she felt the cool metal. She wanted that feeling again—and again.
I couldn’t wait to place her ring on her finger.
She returned to eating, her gaze averted in quiet thought. Whatever she was thinking was a mystery to me.
But I strongly suspected she was thinking of something she didn’t understand—just yet.
I dragged her hips to the very edge of the bed, half of her ass hanging off above the hardwood floor. Her legs were spread to me, wide-open so I could fit my enormous dick inside that narrow slit.
She was flexible, able to pull her knees against her ribcage. My hands hooked behind her knees, my fingertips brushing against the skin over her ribs. I could feel her beating heart flutter wildly in her chest. She was eager for me, to be fucked again even though we’d just screwed before dinner.
She had the same appetite I had.
I tilted my hips until my head found her entrance. I slowly slid inside, feeling the usual pool of moisture greet me with excitement. I pushed through the slickness, stretching her walls like I did every other time. My cock would never get used to how tight she was. After taking her virginity and fucking her a few times, she still hadn’t stretched out.
I hoped she never did.
She laid her head back and breathed through my entry. Her tiny waist tightened as I moved farther within her. The strong muscles of her thighs tightened, and her nipples were hard and pointed to the ceiling.
I felt like a king every time I was inside her. She lay back and allowed me to have her, to possess her in a way no man ever had. That made me feel more like a man than anything else in my life. Seeing those green eyes burn just for me was an unbelievable turn-on. She turned down every other man in her life—except me.
I moved until my balls touched her ass. She took every bit of my nine-inch length, gripping the sheets underneath her and panting through the pleasure and the pain. I had a remarkable package, something all the women at Ruin whispered about because Isabella told them what I was packing. I knew some women hit on me solely because they wanted to feel every inch of my impressive thickness. But I knew I was too big for some women—like Vanilla. It would take some time for her to get used to it, but at least she enjoyed it.
I slowly thrust into her, my cock pushing through the moisture between her legs. So sticky and thick, her lubrication was similar to mine. I could smell it every time I pulled out, and the scent of her arousal just turned me on more. I kept my pace slow because every touch was enjoyable. I’d never tried vanilla before Rome, but I’d come to realize I enjoyed it—at least, with her. If it were anyone else, it was questionable.
Her hands slid over mine until she locked her small fingers around my wrists. She held on tightly, her tits shaking with every thrust I made. My cock sank deep inside her, nearly hitting her cervix every time, but she continued to enjoy it. She made quiet, sexy sounds as I fucked her at the foot of the bed, and as things heated up, those sounds were no longer quiet. “Calloway…”
I closed my eyes as I treasured that sound. She said it with such desperation and need. I was the only man she wanted on this planet, and she clung to me like she needed me just to survive. She fought me so hard, but in the end, she trusted me. She gave herself to me, taking in my furiously hard cock as her first experience. “Say it again.”
She opened her eyes and stared into mine. “Calloway.”
I moved my hands underneath her ass and gripped her cheeks. Then I thrust into her harder, our bodies smacking together as I pounded into her. Her pussy juice made the sexiest noises as my cock slid into her over and over. “Vanilla.” I buried myself entirely within her, feeling my body grow weak from the extreme pleasure. I could do this all day, every day. I could never leave the house again and fuck her until the end of my days.
“I can’t believe I waited this long.” Sweat formed on her chest, mixed with the red tint from her arousal. Her mouth was gaping open because she continued to moan from deep in her throat. Her entire body writhed for mine, her hands continuing to grip the sheets for dear life.
“You were supposed to wait this long.” I moved into her harder, claiming her pussy as my territory. I didn’t realize I’d been looking for her all my life until she walked in it. Now that I had her, I knew I would never want anyone else. She even made vanilla sex satisfying. Whatever she possessed, I needed it. Her virginity was mine because I was meant to take it. Everything that was hers was now mine.
Her moans turned into screams, and she came around my dick, gripping my cock tightly as her cum slathered me on all sides. “Oh god…” Her head rolled back, and she tugged on the sheets so hard they came loose from the mattress. “Fuck…that feels amazing.”
Now it was my turn. Having an orgasm wasn’t my favorite part of sex when it came to Vanilla. Every single moment was my favorite part. This was just the icing on top. I shoved my dick hard into her and released my seed. I filled her up to the brim, giving her more cum than she could handle. I left my cock inside her until I began to soften. Then I slowly pulled out, the white stickiness beginning to drip out. I watched it fall, feeling my possessive desires only begin to grow.
Satiated and exhausted, she stared at me with lidded eyes. Every time I made her come, she was wiped out like she’d just run a marathon. Her tits began to soften, and her breathing slowly returned to normal.
I picked her up then crawled on the bed with her held against me. I placed her on the sheet then lay beside her, leaving the covers off because I was too hot. I didn’t bother cleaning off because I figured we would have another round.
She was warm, and when she cuddled into my side, I wanted to back away. Sweat clung to her skin and combined with mine. But I didn’t want to push her away. I’d rather suck it up than feel the coldness of her being on the other side of the bed. So I wrapped my arm around her and closed my eyes. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
Strong hands gripped me around the neck and dragged me out of bed. The veins in his arms
protruded outward like strings inside a spider’s web. He squeezed my throat so hard I couldn’t breathe. When I tried to take a breath, I choked instead.
“You did this.” He kept one arm around my throat before he slugged me in the face. My nose broke and blood oozed into my mouth. The metallic taste flooded my mouth and burned my tongue.
“You.” He punched me.
“Worthless.” He punched me again, hitting me in the eye.
“Piece.” Hit. “Of.” Knuckles to my cheekbone. “Shit.”
I jolted upright and gripped the bed beside me for balance. My eyes snapped open, and I looked around the bedroom for the man I knew to be long gone. The shadows were dark in the corners, and only the light from the bathroom could be seen in the dimness. I breathed hard through my mouth and noticed the sweat soaked around my neck. On instinct, I touched my nose to see if it was broken.
It was just a nightmare.
It was the first one I’d had since Vanilla started sleeping with me. Stupidly, I thought they were long gone, like she was some kind of dream catcher that could chase away my nightmares.
It was a stupid thought.
I got out of bed without stirring her and made my way down to the kitchen. I had a cabinet dedicated to the good stuff—scotch, gin, brandy, and bourbon. Bourbon was my poison for the night, so I poured a glass with massive ice cubes.
I sat at the kitchen table and stared out the back door that led to the yard. There was grass, flowers, and a few trees. The moon was unnaturally bright that evening, especially in the city, and I could see it shine through the clouds.
I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. The images didn’t fade from my mind even after I woke up. Now they were branded on my eyes, visible whether my lids were closed or not.
I drank more bourbon than I should have and let my mind slip away. When there was enough liquor in my veins, I stopped feeling the pain from my memories. I could think about them without the aftershocks. I remembered telling my mom the truth about my father. I remembered when her mind began to fry from whatever illness she was cursed with. I remembered the way my father blamed me, called me a traitor and wished I were dead. I remembered all of it—without feeling a thing.
No matter how much time had passed, I couldn’t escape what happened years ago. Jackson didn’t know anything because I refused to involve him. He thought I was the favorite son, but little did he know he was the one most fortunate. I protected him like a big brother should, and as a result, I got my ass kicked too many times.
I still hated my father.
He was dead. Buried in the ground. But I still possessed the rage.
Would that ever go away?
Was that why I was the way I was? I spent so much time trying not to be like him that I turned into a younger version of him. I needed control just the way he did. I needed others to submit just the way he did. There wasn’t enough booze in the world to deny what was right in front of me.
I was my father.
“Calloway?” Vanilla’s sweet voice came from behind me, her concern genuine and strangely beautiful.
I didn’t want her to see me like this. I was in a dark place, a place much darker than she’d ever seen. “You should get to bed, Vanilla. It’s late.” I drank my bourbon and continued to stare out the window. I didn’t turn around to look at her.
“Are you alright?” She came closer to me until she stood right behind my chair. Her hand moved to my shoulder.
I forced myself not to flinch. “I’m okay. But I want to be alone.” I kept my voice steady even though the rage was about to break through. “Go to bed. Now.” I gripped the glass and felt the condensation against my palm.
She remained put, her hand still on my shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? I get bad nightmares too.”
The alcohol was fire in my veins, and I wasn’t the same man she knew so well. “If I wanted to talk about it, I would. But I don’t.” My tone was clipped, full of anger that burned the ears. “Leave me alone.”
She finally pulled her hand away. “You want me to let you take care of me. Well, this is a two-way street, Calloway. Let me take care of you, and I’ll consider letting you do the same for me.”
All day at work, I was hungover.
Fortunately, no one noticed. And if they did, they didn’t give me shit about it. After all, I was their boss. They didn’t want to get on my bad side. If they did, they wouldn’t see the light of day again.
Vanilla went to work early that morning, so I didn’t see her. But Bruce told me she took the car to work, so she didn’t test me. After what she saw last night, she probably realized I was a bear in a den. Provoke me, and you might die.
I didn’t want her to see me like that. She must have woken up when she got cold and realized my body wasn’t there to keep her warm. If only she hadn’t gotten up to explore, she wouldn’t have seen me at a low and intoxicated point.
I probably should have apologized.
But I wouldn’t.
After work, I went home and found her in the kitchen like usual. She was making something in the slow cooker, and judging by the smell, it was another delicious creation. But I didn’t have an appetite. All I really wanted to do was take some pain killers and go to sleep.
I walked into the kitchen to greet her. “Something smells good.”
She looked at me over her shoulder, but she returned her attention to the dish. When she didn’t say anything, I knew I was getting the silent treatment.
“How was your day?”
“I just want to be alone right now. Go away.” She mocked the words I’d said to her the evening before.
And they hurt. “I was wasted, Vanilla. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Then don’t drink. Problem solved.” She placed the lid on top of the pot then turned off the heat. “It’s ready if you’re hungry.”
I wasn’t. “I’m a man. And men drink.”
She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Don’t make excuses for your actions. That’s such a turn-off.”
“What would you rather I say? I like to get drunk so I can’t feel? That I like to get drunk so I can’t remember my nightmare the next morning?”
She stilled at the counter, her eyes downcast.
“That if I don’t drink until I pass out, I’ll just have the nightmares all over again? That it stops me from leaving the house and doing something I’ll regret? That it helps me cope with a past I can’t change? Would you rather me say all that?”
She continued to stare at the ground, unable to meet my gaze.
“I didn’t think so.” I walked away and headed to the stairs. After a shower, I would go into my office so I could think without her judgmental eyes drilling into my face.
Her heels echoed behind me and stopped before she reached me. “Actually, yes.”
I slowly turned around and stared at her short frame. A little over five feet, she was a tiny woman. But she had the curves and the style to make her look like the tallest woman in any room. Her slender figure didn’t make her appear weak. The fire in her eyes and her stance made her formidable.
“I would much rather have an honest conversation about what’s happening than watch a drunk man sit alone in the dark.” She gave me a fiery look before she turned around and walked back into the kitchen. She always had to have the last word.
And I always had to have the last word.
I marched back inside and cornered her against the counter. I didn’t touch her, but my proximity was enough to make her press back against the cabinet, keeping as much distance between us as possible. “What do you want from me?”
“I made that clear.”
“No. You didn’t.”
Her hands gripped the edge of the counter but her back remained perfectly straight. Even if she was afraid of me, she didn’t show it. “For one, I want an apology.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For you being a shithead last night.”
My mouth remained shut.
“And two, I don’t want you to shut me out.”
I couldn’t do either one of those things.
“Calloway, you want me to do things for you that I don’t agree with. And I do them to compromise. I do them because I want to be closer to you. But I won’t keep making sacrifices unless you make some too. So what’s it gonna be?”
Times like these made me miss Isabella. With her, I could get away with whatever I wanted and never have to deal with the repercussions. If I told her to shut up, she did. If I told her to leave me alone, she obeyed. Like an animal, she followed my commands without ever complaining. Rome was nothing like that and probably never would be. She forced me to confront things I’d rather not think about, and just when I thought I was getting my way, she turned my world upside down.
“I didn’t hear you.” She continued to peer into my face, giving me that ice-cold expression. She laid down the law without seeming bossy. She was too intelligent for her own good, too strong for any opponent. She made me feel more like a man because I had to combat her. But she also made me feel less like a man because I couldn’t control her. “Hello?”
I forced myself to say it. “You’re right. I should be more honest with you.” If I wanted her on her knees with her hands tied behind her back, her mouth gaping open and ready for my cock, I had to compromise. I knew she wasn’t the ideal sub the moment I looked at her. In fact, she was just the opposite. But that didn’t make me want her less. Like star-crossed lovers, we were from different worlds. But I wanted her so much it hurt.
“And?”
I wasn’t going to apologize. No way. “And that’s it.”
“That’s it?” She put one hand on her hip, her attitude rising.
“I drink alone. I won’t apologize for that. You should have left me alone when I asked you to. Your fault. Not mine.”
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