3. Annabelle
ANNABELLE
M y shoulders shake with a shuddering breath as the cold breeze from outside is quelled by the front door closing.
Calum’s estate is massive, and I stand in the grand foyer in awe.
Riches and wealth drip from every detail of the structure. Yet, it’s nearly empty, and the expansive room, heated by a crackling fireplace, still feels cold.
The thud of the locks behind me are what rip my attention away from the carved wood details of the double winding staircase and massive crystal chandelier that shines down from three stories up.
His large hand rests on the small of my back, just as it did when we left the party. Far too early and abruptly. I can only imagine what the host and guests think.
With Calum leading me, I walk forward, towards the warmth of the fireplace lined with slabs of dark stone that travel from floor to ceiling. I’ve never felt so small, surrounded by burgundy crushed-velvet furniture and the smell of polished hardwood.
Everything is clean, in its place, and luxurious.
A subtle change forces a small gasp from me. Calum’s hand slips from the small of my back to my hip and then slightly lower. Possessively and making no attempts to hide what he wants.
“Shall we have a seat?” he offers, but his gentlemanly question is laced with sin. His front presses against my back as his hand rests on my shoulder. I’m certain I can feel his length against my backside. Sucking in a sharp breath, I wish I could gather the courage to speak.
I’ve always been a bit too shy to go for what I want.
But that’s what led me here, to the mercy of this man. Listening, obeying.
The thought is what convinces me to turn where I am, still close enough to him that we touch, only this time, it’s my front to his. With his head lowered and mine raised, I ask him, lust coating my question, “Here then? On the sofa?”
His eyes flash with primitive need, and for a moment I know I’ve shocked him. He’s quick to regain his position, placing his hands on my hips, gently so.
“For now . . . until I have you on your knees on the floor. Or would you rather we get right to it, Belle?”
“On my knees?” The vision flashes in my mind. The crackling of the fire, my knees and palms burning against the rug as Calum takes me from behind, his blunt nails digging into my hips.
A rough groan travels up his chest, once again making me feel as if he’s read my mind. “Yes,” he answers, “Let’s get the formalities over with, and then I’ll have you that way first, your ass in the air as I fuck you on all fours.”
I couldn’t blush any harder, but with the barest grasp on the last bit of dignity I have, I manage to speak. “Is that the deal? My father’s debt for tonight?”
Calum’s head tilts, and a threat laces the single word he speaks. “Tonight?”
The raging of my heart heats my body, as if I’ve said something wrong. Instinctively, I take one step back, and he’s far too quick to keep us close, matching my step with his own.
“What do you want with me? If not . . .”
“Oh, I assure you, Belle, what you’re thinking is precisely what I want.” The desire in his tone is reflected in his gaze, and the lust that rushes in my blood is the only thing that keeps the fear from taking over.
“Then . . . I don’t understand.” I honestly don’t.
“It’s going to take much more than a night to pay off your debt.”