Risqué by Elena M. Reyes

15

I’m an idiot. Completely and utterly moronic, but smiling like the hussy this man is turning me into. If only I could say no. But I can’t, and every time those piercing, gem-like eyes ask me for something or need an answer, I end up agreeing while letting down every single one of my walls.

Dios mio, ayudame. This position I’ve put myself in will cost me. I know it will.

My father will never allow this, but I also can’t stop the small bloom of hope taking place in my chest, burrowing deep and holding on for dear life after Callum shared his plans.

He wants to take me home. To London.

Somewhere far from Chicago and all that I know, but with him I’d do so happily and without a second thought, knowing this could blow up in my face in so many tragic ways.

That man is the perfect heartbreak waiting to happen.

He’d tear me apart, something I’m no longer able to stop if he walked away.

I already care too much.

So much can go wrong.

What about returning to Spain?

That had been my original plan, but after hearing his, it doesn’t hold the same appeal.

Nothing else does. And perhaps I’ll feel differently tomorrow, but in the afterglow of his touch, I want to follow him. Because a part of me, the scared and disillusioned fragment of my soul, wants it—craves his words to be true.

Which makes no sense. But then again, nothing of the last few days does.

“How did I let myself get caught up in such a mess?” I want to feel whole again. I want to trust him. “Things that sound too good to be true usually are.” My low muttering is accompanied by a hiss, my thigh muscles protesting as I stand on the tips of my toes to grab a glass from the cupboard. This is the aftereffect of being kept on my back, legs spread wide while he worshipped me for hours.

Mouth. Fingers. But never his cock.

And damn him, I wanted the latter. Begged for it, but Callum denied my request each time.

“Oh God,” I moan, body thrumming as the aftershocks of my last orgasm still ring through me. Not that the man between my thighs cares. If anything, the last two weren’t enough. Another long lick with the flat of his tongue and I close my eyes, fighting instincts that contradict each other. Push him away. Pull him closer. More. Stop. “Callum, come here. Please, just come up here.”

“No.” A growl, the vibrations of the simple word running through me like a live current. From the tip of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head, I feel it. Pulsing. Pushing me. “Need you to give me another, Venus. One more.”

“Too much.”

“Never bloody enough.”

Back arching, I scream as his teeth scrape over my throbbing clit. It hurts a bit; a painful pleasure seizes every nerve ending and lights me on fire. “Please. Please, I need to feel you inside me...son of a—”

“I’ll never fuck you and leave, Aliana.” He bites my thigh, teeth digging in. This shuts me up. My mouth is open in a silent scream, body shaking as another orgasm is ripped from me with nothing more than a harsh nip. With my flesh between his teeth, his hooded eyes watch me come apart, his cheek nuzzling my tender pussy as uncontrollable tremors rock me. I pulse. I cry a bit, but then my breath gets caught in my throat and nothing matters more than the sight of this man gripping his cock. “Please tell me you understand.”

“Callum, I—”

Muscles straining, he braces himself with one arm on the mattress, his body leaning over mine. “Answer me, Venus. Tell me you understand,” he hisses, teeth gritted tight as he jerks off at the juncture of my thighs. He’s thick, the head almost angry while his pace is punishing.

I’ve lost all ability to speak. I’m lost to the perfect picture of masculinity he paints.

I’m following each movement hungrily, my core clenching involuntarily, and another rough spasm shakes me. “Fuck me.”

Pace quickening, Callum’s eyes travel from my wet core to my eyes. “Beautiful.” His stare is hooded, so hungry. Those gem-colored eyes stay on mine as the first rope of warm come lands across my labia and clit, dripping down to my ass and then the sheets. They don’t waver when the next two make a mess of my mound and stomach. Instead, they darken even more as he rubs the tip against my skin, spreading his release all over me.

I’m a mess. My pussy still throbs.

“Why?”

“Tell me you understand why I denied us both what we need?” he counters, and I want to tell him that I do, but that would be a lie. Rejection suddenly floods me, and I look away, my eyes tearing up for a different reason.Maybe I’m being too desperate? “Stop that.”

Callum’s hovering over me now, lips almost touching mine as I meet his hard stare. He’s a total contradiction to the man that watched me come a minute ago and then marked me with his release.I try to move away, to slide out from beneath him, but his weight drops, and I find myself pinned to the bed.

“Please move.”

“No.” Two warm hands cup my face and hold me so I can’t look away. “Don’t shut me out, Aliana.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, baby. It’s not.” With a pained groan, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me slowly. So tenderly. The way Callum takes my lips this time is what every woman dreams of, and I didn’t know I’ve been missing for so long. It’s raw, shakes me to the core, and the taste of my release on his sweet lips quickly becomes something I’ll crave until the day I die.It’s the tangible proof of his hunger for me. A peck and then nibble to my bottom lip and he pulls back, smiling down at me. “Never think that I’m rejecting you, love. I couldn’t, but I am postponing the inevitable when in a few hours I’ll be gone. There’s no way I’d be able to leave if I do, and taking you back with me until our enemies are removed; I can’t put you in danger like that. So please, sweetheart. Be patient. Wait for me.”

Wait for me.

He said those same words a few days ago when he walked out after a final kiss and the exchange of our phone numbers. Formally, anyway. I know he’s had mine since pulling information on me, and it doesn’t bother me in the least.

The sudden hard knock on my front door pulls me back into the present and away from the memory of his touch. They’re not pounding, but the noise is loud, and I cautiously make my way over.

I’m not expecting anyone.

Standing up onto the tips of my toes, I look through the peephole and find a man I’ve never seen before standing on the other side. He’s tall, his face impassive, and in his hand is some sort of envelope.

I don’t open the door. Instead, I take quiet steps back until I’m back in the kitchen and can grab my cell.

With shaky fingers, I press the security camera app and go to live feed. His retreating form is what I find, and the envelope is no longer in his hand.

“What the hell?” For the next ten minutes I keep watch through my phone, not moving from my spot until I’m sure no one is outside, and then I rush to check the outside of my door. With each step closer, dread fills my stomach and my nerves pick up. And I’m right in doing so, because there lying atop my floor mat is a padded manila casing with my name written across the front in a penmanship I’d know anywhere.

Moreover, my suspicions are confirmed when I open it and read the first page.

This slice of reality slams into me with a vengeance. Brutally. Unforgiving.

There’s no future with Callum. There’s no reason to entertain him or any offer he makes when this is my life.

I’m a puppet on a string.

How can I withhold this from him and my newly appointed guard long term while keeping my father happy and at bay?

I can’t juggle this.

I can’t live multiple lives.

You leave in seventy-two hours. Disappoint me, and you know the price.