by Hannah Ford
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue tangling with mine, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip as he released the kiss.
“You know your safe word, Lemon?” he whispered.
I nodded.
“Do you trust me?”
I nodded again. “I trust you, Callum.”
“Eyes on the ground, baby.”
I put my eyes back to the ground, and he turned his chair away from me.
“Stand up and walk to the couch, Adriana.”
I stood up and walked to the leather couch that was pushed up against the far wall of his office.
“Face the wall.”
I turned around and faced the wall, my heart still beating rapidly in my chest. A second later, I sensed him behind me. I could smell his cologne, woodsy and fresh, felt his chest push against my back as he brushed my hair back from my neck and kissed the sensitive spot there.
His hands reached for the zipper of my dress and he pulled it down softly, slowly, the sound echoing through the empty room. If I listened closely, I could hear the muted sound of Callum’s employees through the door, all of them working, not knowing that I was in here about to get whatever it was done to me that was about to be done.
My body ached for him, an ache that settled between my legs.
“Why didn’t you answer my text messages, Adriana?” Callum’s breath tickled my neck as his hands found my shoulders and began to massage them gently. I loved the way he said my name, and I felt my panties starting to get wet.
“I was in a meeting, sir.”
“Do you remember what the contract you signed said, Adriana?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did it say?”
“It said that I was to be available to you at all times, that I was to answer any text messages immediately.”
His began to slide my dress down over my shoulders, the silky material brushing against my skin as his lips returned to the back of my neck and kissed me softly.
It was a tease, a horrible tease. He was being soft with me, but I knew my punishment was going to come soon, that it was going to be extreme and hard and rough.
He tugged my dress down over my hips and it pooled onto the floor. “Step out of your dress.”
I stepped out of it.
I was left standing there in the lingerie he’d left for me this morning, a tiny g-string that barely covered my pussy, a garter belt and set of stockings, a black lace see through push-up bra.
Callum’s hands twisted my hair into a ponytail and yanked on it gently. “How do you think it made me feel when you didn’t respond to me?”
“You didn’t like it.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said, and he sounded amused. “Turn around, Adriana.”
I turned around and his eyes drunk me in, the sight of my body on display for him.
“Take off your bra.”
I reached behind me and unhooked it, letting my breasts fall out. My nipples were rock hard, like two pebbles, and I was embarrassed that just standing here with my breasts out was enough to turn me on so much.
Callum smiled devilishly then grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth, dancing with mine, his stubble rubbing against my cheeks roughly, a contrast to the warm wetness of his mouth.
I was breathless when he finally released me, and then he was taking off his belt, and I knew he was going to make it hurt.
“On your knees, Adriana,” he growled.
I fell to my knees.
“Good girl. Now reach back and grab your ankles.”
I did as I was told, arching my back so that I was holding my ankles, which thrust my tits up at him, and pulled my shoulders back.
He ran his belt over my breasts, the scent of leather hitting my nose as the soft, supple material ran over my nipples.
I moaned in anticipation and ecstasy. The tiny g-string I was wearing was completely soaked now, the material sticking to my pussy.
Callum pulled back and struck me, the belt lashing against my breasts, harder than he’d ever hit me, harder than I’d been expecting.
I strangled cry escaped my lips.
“If you make another sound,” he growled. “I’ll make it worse.”
“Yes, sir.”
The belt bit me again, slashing against my skin, one, two, three, four times. He varied the pressure, the placement as he stood over me, tall and commanding, his blue eyes filled with need. The blows that whipped against my nipples were the worst, the skin there more sensitive.
Red marks bloomed on my skin as he branded me and made me his.
“Good girl,” he said from above me, his chest heaving. “Now stand up.”
I stood up and he made me walk over to his desk, laid me down on my stomach so that my breasts were pushed against the glass.
“Hands behind your back.” I put my hands behind my back, and a second later I heard the swoosh of him pulling his tie off, felt the material against my wrists as he tied them together. He tightened the knot then pulled on the tie, forcing my arms back.
“Fuck, you look sexy like that.” His nails slid down my back. “Your body was made for this, baby.”
“Callum,” I moaned.
“Say it.”
“My body was made for this.”
“Your body is mine.”
“My body is yours.”
His belt was sliding over my ass now, right against my skin, the tiny g-string providing no protection.
He whipped me with the belt.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
This time, he didn’t bother to vary the intensity, instead building up, harder and harder, until my body was jolting with every blow, and the stinging pain began to give way to something else, a deep and pleasurable ache that settled in my pussy as he punished me, as he took his frustration out on my body, as he used me for his release.
Finally, when my ass was sore and raw, he tossed the belt to the floor, where he landed with a clang.
My breath was coming in short gasps. He let my wrists go but held me down against the glass of the desk, the smooth surface cool against my cheek as his hand moved down over my panties and pushed them to the side.
He slipped a finger inside my pussy and I groaned.
“You’re so wet, Lemon,” he said, teasing. “You like being bad like that, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prompted.
“Yes, I like being a bad girl.”
I heard his pants unzipping, and then his cock was pushing against me and I gasped as he slid into me in one long stroke.
He grabbed the tie around my wrists and pulled it hard, using it for leverage so he could fuck me harder.
“Oohh,” I groaned as he pumped into me. “Ohh, Callum.”
He fucked me until my clit was throbbing, until my body was wound tight and begging for release. I could feel my orgasm building inside of me, could feel myself on the edge of that cliff, just seconds away from the blissful sensation that would tear through my body and leave me shattered.
And then Callum pulled out of me.
I whimpered. “Callum,” I begged. “Please.”
“Don’t move,” he commanded. I could hear him behind me, removing the rest of his clothes, and then he was turning me over onto my back and pushing my hands up over my head and laying his body down on top of mine and kissing me, hard and deep, hit tongue pillaging my mouth.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, Callum, I need to come.”
“Oh, yeah?” he teased, and his hand slid across my stomach and over my clit, and I whimpered again. My entire body was on fire, red hot lava flowing through my veins. His lips found neck and then moved to my earlobe, and then he was standing up and he pushing my legs all the way back so that they were spread wide open for him.
I shivered at the sight of him standing there, his exquisite body on display, his chest and shoulders and arms ripped a
nd chiseled, his cock rock hard as he slid it over my opening.
“Look at how wet you are, baby.”
I groaned, watching as the hard, engorged head of his dick slid over my pussy.
“Your body was made to get me off. Your pussy was made to be used by my dick.”
“I was made for this,” I repeated.
“That’s right, baby,” he said in satisfaction, and then he took my hands and guided them down between my legs, placed them on his cock, letting me feel it as he pushed through my tied hands and into my pussy, letting me feel him as he fucked me.
He grinned at me wickedly. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” I moaned and angled my hips up, trying to get him to fuck me harder.
“I know what else you’ll like.”
He pulled out of me and then he took his dick in his hand and slid it down to my ass and panic seized my throat as I grabbed his arm and dug my fingers into his skin.
“Callum!”
“Shhhh,” he said, and pushed my hands back up over my head. “Stay perfectly still.”
“I can’t.”
“You can, Adriana.”
He laid back down on top of me, his body warm and heavy against my mine, and instinctually I took my hands from over my head and ran my fingers down over his muscular chest, his washboard abs, the flat, chiseled ridges of his stomach.
He let me do it for a second and then he pushed my hands back up over my head. “Don’t make me use something more than the tie, Adriana,” he growled and I didn’t want to find out what he meant so I kept my arms above my head.
He was still on top of me, the head of his cock pressed against my ass.
He shifted slightly and pushed just the tiniest bit inside of me.
I gasped and went to move my arms, I needed to grab him, to try to take some control. But he held me down.
“You want to make me forget, baby?” he whispered.
I nodded, and I could feel myself getting teary as he stared into my eyes, his so beautifully blue. I wanted to give myself to him.
“I’m going to make you forget too, baby. I’m going to make you forget you ever didn’t want this.”
He pushed into me even more, and I gasped as my body resisted him down there.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “Look at me, Adriana, I want to see your pretty face while I do this.”
He pushed into me further and I gasped again and for a moment my safe word lingered on my lips but then he was inside of me and the excruciating pressure was giving way to hot pleasure.
“That’s it, baby, take my dick in your ass.”
His dirty words made me moan and then he was kissing me, his hands tangling in my hair while he took me down there, and I gave myself to him.
“You feel so good,” he said huskily. He started to move faster, harder, and his hands were in my hair tugging gently and his hand slid down my body to my clit and began to rub it gently.
His other hand pushed up onto my bound wrists, pinning me down to the desk as he fucked my ass.
“Say my name.”
“Callum.”
“Again.”
“Callum.”
“Where’s my cock right now, Adriana?”
“In my ass.”
He fucked me harder, thrusting into me while he rubbed my clit and then his finger slipped inside my pussy and the sensation of having myself filled in both holes made my pussy spasm and I couldn’t help it, I was coming even though I knew I was supposed to wait permission.
“That’s it, baby, get off on it,” he whispered and he fucked my ass harder while his finger on my clit moved slower and the difference in the sensations intensified my orgasm and I came harder than I’d ever come in my life.
“I’m going to come in your ass now, baby,” Callum groaned. “Beg.”
I began to whimper and beg, the words that were coming from my mouth nastier and dirtier than I ever could have imagined myself saying as I begged him to come in me, right in my ass, to shoot his load up inside of me.
A second later, he grabbed my hair and pulled my face close to his, so close I could feel his stubble rubbing my cheeks as he moved on top of me and then he was coming inside of me, shot after shot, filling me and making me his.
When he’d had his release, he collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving. He was kissing me, my face, my cheeks, my lips and then he was untying my hands and my nails dug into his back as our breathing slowed and my pulse rate began to decrease.
“Adriana,” he murmured. “Adriana.” He was saying my name over and over again, his hands moving over my body and then he picked me up and brought me over to the couch and he was covering us with a blanket and I was laying on him and listening to his heart and I could still hear the people out in the other room, but I didn’t care, I just knew I needed to be close to him no matter where we were or what was happening.
His hand moved up and down my back, and our legs tangled together, his body solid, his arms wrapped around me.
“I want you to pour the bottle out,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “I want you to do it in front of me. Right now, before I leave.”
“Okay.”
I knew that if he poured it out, it was no guarantee that he wouldn’t drink. He could absolutely go to the store and buy something else. There was liquor on every corner. But the way he’d been sitting there, looking at that bottle like that, it was…. it was just too much for me to handle. I wanted it to be gone.
“I mean it, Callum.”
“Okay.”
“Say you promise.”
I could hear the amusement in his voice as he said, “You want me to pinky swear, too, Lemon?”
“Callum!” I turned over and propped myself up on my chin. “I’m serious!”
He nodded, his blue eyes meeting mine, and he nodded seriously, letting me knew he realized how serious this was. “I know.”
“You can’t…” I said, and I felt myself tearing up, felt my voice growing thick with emotion. “I’m not sure what you need to do, if you need to go to a meeting or… but I need you to not drink, Callum. Please.”
He nodded, then took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. He was staring off now, his gaze unfocused.
“Callum, what happened to Rose?” I asked gently.
He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “Her organs couldn’t take the strain anymore. The drugs had done too much damage. Her kidneys shut down, and they were getting her ready for dialysis, but then her liver failed. They couldn’t save her.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It’s my fault,” he whispered.
“No, it isn’t, Callum.” “Yes, it is. She called me last night and left a message.”
I remembered. I remembered him getting the call from her while we were driving, how he sent it to voicemail without answering because he was out with me. At the time I’d been happy that he’d wanted to give me all his attention. But now I wished he’d answered the call. “What did the message say?”
“She told me she was getting ready to go on dialysis, that she was scared. She begged me to come and see her.”
“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
“I could have done something. I could have talked to the doctors, I could have made them do something.”
“Oh, Callum,” I said. “She was at one of the best hospitals in the country, I’m sure the doctors did everything they could.”
“She was alone when she died. She had no one.”
I closed my eyes, wishing I knew the right thing to say, wishing I knew how I could take some of his pain away, how I could make him see that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t be responsible for saving everyone.
“Everything I touch, I destroy.”
“That’s not true,” I said, and the lump in my throat was so heavy I could hardly talk around it. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at him,
my eyes meeting his, and the emotion I felt for him, the longing, the desire, not just sexual but the deep need for him to see that he wasn’t bad, that all these things weren’t his fault, burned through me. “What happened with Rose was a terrible tragedy. It’s awful and horrible, and there are things like that that happen in life. But it was not your fault.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.”
He pulled me to him, kissing me, his mouth claiming mine and then he was grabbing my leg and sliding it up over his hip as he entered me, and he held my hip and guided me down on his dick, fucking me again, and we were staring into each other’s eyes and kissing hungrily.
“Fuck, Adriana,” he groaned. He slapped my ass, hard, as and the marks that were already there from his belt made it sting more than usual. He fucked me hard and fast and dirty and we both came at the same time, his load shooting into my pussy this time.
He kept kissing me even after he was done, kept his hand firmly on the back of my neck and refusing to release me until he’d had enough.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless and dizzy, my head spinning.
He brushed his lips softly over mine.
“I love you,” he murmured gruffly. “Adriana, I’m in love with you.”
The words sent shock waves reverberating through my body, the sensation starting in my toes and moving throughout my entire being.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back and his mouth was back on mine and I’d never felt anything so intense in my life, had never even thought something like this could exist, this depth of feeling, both sexual and emotional, that I could feel for a man and he could feel for me.
But a second later, a buzzing sound came through the room from Callum’s work phone, breaking the spell.
Callum sighed, then disentangled himself from me, crossed the room and pushed the button on his phone. “Wilder,” he barked.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Wilder.” Ray’s voice came through the phone. “But you instructed me to get in touch with you when the funeral home called? They’re ready for you to make the arrangements.”
“Thank you, Ray.”