of him did to me.
“I told you I wasn’t bringing you in here to fuck. Yet, here we are.”
My eyes narrowed on his face, but then dropped as his hand moved to shove his pants down his legs. He stood naked in front of me. Every part of him more beautiful than the next.
Dear God, I think I just died again...
Clearing my throat, I glanced up. It took effort. More than I wanted to admit. “It wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me.”
Callan grinned and there was so much arrogance in that expression, I was drowning in it.
“And it won’t be the last.”
He kicked off his pants before crawling over me, his chest and biceps flexed as he held his weight off my body. Eyes dropping to my mouth, he took his time tracing their shape before returning that amber stare to me.
“Not that you’ve always been honest. I seem to remember lying being a daily occurrence.”
His mouth fell to my breast again, teeth nipping at the flesh, tongue circling the top that was tight and sensitive. My body writhed beneath the way he toyed with it, my skin flushed and hot.
Breathless, I asked, “Don’t you think this is a bad time to have this discussion?”
I could feel him smile against my skin. “I think this is the best time, actually.”
Notching the tip of his cock at my entrance, he lifted his head to lock eyes with mine.
“Why’s that?”
One long thrust and he filled me completely, his cock so deep that I swore I could taste him in my throat. His hand locked on my thigh to push my legs open wider, his hips so frustratingly still that I thought I might scream.
Leaning down, his mouth brushed mine as he answered, “So that neither of us make the mistake of forgetting what we’ve done to each other and fall in love.”
“I won’t fall in love.”
Callan shifted his weight suddenly, pushed his body up to lift my hips and swirl his so that his cock drove impossibly deeper, filling every part of me, rubbing against every nerve ending that screamed with pleasure. His thumb found my clit, and my back arched off the bed, my head falling back as my hips thrust toward him demanding more.
“I might,” he whispered. “This pussy is just as pretty as I imagined it. Just as fucking wet.”
Another hard thrust and my body was shoved up the mattress. He fucked like he fought. Brutal. Aggressive. Carnal and raw.
He drove me to a point where I couldn’t breathe, and it only made me want to beg for mercy.
Already an orgasm was teasing my body, the vibrations like cords inside me connecting every erogenous inch of flesh. I felt him everywhere, his name etched into my bones and burned on my skin. I loved how he took without asking, without apology, without concern that he would destroy me.
He pulled out and my eyes shot open, my mouth falling open on a complaint because I’d been right there, right at that place that would make me scream his fucking name without caring that he was the cruelest bastard in my life.
Dark laughter filtered into my ears.
“Not yet, brat. This is my dance, remember?”
“Fuck, I hate you,” I growled.
“We’ve already established that. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Hands gripping my hips, Callan flipped me to my stomach, the sudden movement surprising me because it had taken him no effort at all. And then his chest was against my back, his hands pulled my ass to his hips and he thrust inside me again, driving deep, and so incredibly hard that my forehead dropped to the bed as his other hand took rough possession of my breast.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled into the mattress, my body completely taken hostage by every hard thrust, every nip of his teeth against my skin, every brush of his fingers and the wet heat of his tongue.
His mouth pressed to my ear as his hips continued moving. “Sorry, brat. It’s not God doing this to you. It’s the servant boy you couldn’t stand.”
His cock thrust inside me again, pulled out.
“The boy you abused.”
Another thrust, this one so hard that both our bodies inched forward.
“The one you demanded drop to the floor every time you felt the need to control another.”
Callan’s hand released my breast to wrap in my hair. Tugging, he pulled me up and held me in place with one hand on my breast and the other fisting my hair. “Who’s controlling