Chapter 32 #2
“I have everything here.”
He tilts his chin toward the space behind me and walks past me before touching a button in the wall.
It opens like a door, and shelves packed with bottles lavishly lit by the lights behind them fill my view.
“I’ll make you a cocktail.”
He moves with ease, procuring two glasses, pouring himself a drink, and mixing a cocktail for me.
“The bathroom is over there,” he says, pointing to another wall.
I’m sure there’s a second door in here somewhere, one that connects this room with the rest of the house.
The space is quiet, which doesn’t surprise me since the place is soundproof.
“Who lives in this house?”
He glances at me.
“No one in particular. My brother stops by once in a while.”
“Is he home right now?” I ask when he hands me my drink.
“I doubt it.”
I start to believe his brother is an invention.
“What’s his name?” I ask abruptly, gauging his reaction to see if he's lying or not.
“Callan,” he says curtly before we clink our glasses and both take a sip.
He drinks hard liquor. I’m enthralled with my cocktail.
It’s fresh and sweet with citrusy notes and a velvety feel like the room.
“What is this?”
“That’s a Negroni. Dry Gin, Campari, and sweet vermouth,” he says. “You like it?”
“Mm-hmm. It has a taste of orange, too.”
“That’s the candied orange peel.”
I take another sip.
“It’s delicious,” I say, the alcohol dimming my anxiety. “You know a lot of things,” I observe.
“I lived a little longer than you, so I learned stuff.”
I look around to find a place to sit. He pats the bed, and I reluctantly lower myself to the edge, my drink in hand.
“You don’t like this place,” he says, giving me a double take.
“It’s intimidating.”
He chuckles.
“You think? I haven’t even shown you what we can do in this room.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
Warmth soars through me as I lean back and prop myself on my hand, holding my drink up.
He likes how my chest pushes out and pulls up close. Standing in front of me, he runs his hand over my breasts without the slightest hesitation.
I’ve experienced a lot of this since I met him, but he can still surprise me.
My eyebrows wiggle up as he caresses me again, a deep need for me growing in his eyes.
He slides his fingers inside my cleavage and, without finesse, ruins my dress.
I’m probably numb from the alcohol or maybe hypnotized by his eyes.
Or perhaps I’m just too turned on to care that my dress unravels at the top of my chest.
He pushes his knees against the bed on either side of me, and I get the hint pretty quickly.
“I’ll hold that for you,” he says, taking my drink.
He sets it on the nightstand while my fingers move to his belt.
Swiftly, I unfasten it before lowering his zipper.
He’s already hard, and I can tell that even in the dimness and the glow of the purple lights on the walls and with his dark pants concealing his bulge.
My right hand slides inside his boxers and meets his hard flesh while the other cups his balls through his pants.
He takes his shirt off and tosses it onto the chair before shifting his focus to me.
My mouth is already wrapped around the tip of his erection, sheathing his silky skin.
“You suck me good, and I’ll take you like you’ve never been taken before,” he says with a smirk on his face.
I lick his erection in response and then suck on it like it’s a popsicle.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask like a responsible adult.
“Do you like to be restrained?”
“Never tried it.”
“Hmm…” he says, his eyes glinting with mischief.
He runs his hand under my hair and pulls it all around his fist.
With his hard-on in my mouth, he reaches inside the drawer and pulls out a plastic zip tie.
My heart skips a few beats.
“You can scream if you want to. No one will hear you,” he says.
They have thought about everything, haven’t they?
“That’s nice to know,” I mumble around his cock.
“Do you bruise easily?”
“What kind of question is that?” I say, holding his pulsing shaft in my hand, my teeth less than an inch away from him.
“I could sink my teeth into you,” I say.
“Which only proves how much I trust you.”
“I trust you, too.”
I put him in my mouth again.
“Good,” he says, sliding out of my mouth.
With his erection jutting in the air, he lets my hair tumble down my back, grabs my wrists, pulls them to my back, and ties them together.
This is so sudden that I don’t know how to react. My face hits the pillow, and the sound of my dress being ripped off my body makes me scream.
My bra poses no real resistance to his skillful hands.
He tears it off like it’s nothing.
The same thing happens to my panties and my stockings before my shoes fall to the floor.
Next, his belt hits the floor, and I imagine his pants follow suit.
He grabs the back of my hair, pulls me up without hurting me, and makes me take him into my mouth again.
He’s naked, and so am I. Only he has complete control, and I have none.
And I take him into my mouth as much as I can, my tongue trailing the veins on his hardness.
I take him like there’s nothing else I’d want to do right now. Because there isn’t.