Chapter 14 Saint #3
“I don’t have to fuck you even though I want to.
I can simply touch you, make your pussy weep and beg for my cock.
Make you feel what you, what we, both have been fighting.
The sooner you understand you’re mine, the sooner you see that there isn’t a damn thing I won’t do to keep you beside me, to protect and cherish you, the easier this marriage will be.
” He steps closer, sliding between my knees.
“We’re done lying to each other. Done pretending there isn’t more here. ”
His hands cover mine where they rest on my thighs. Slowly, deliberately, he guides them to push the jeans down. I lift my hips automatically, hating myself for the cooperation even as I do it. The jeans pool around my ankles. I’m left in my underwear and the flannel shirt.
“That’s my sweet girl,” he murmurs, and the praise does something to my body that shame can’t override.
I look away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze as it drags down my body.
His rough hands grip my knees and shove them apart, forcing me to face him.
His voice is low, unyielding. “You’re thinking you hate me right now.
But you only wish you did. Because hating me would be easier than wanting me.
You know exactly what kind of man I am. Dangerous. Terrible. And still… you want me.”
He’s right. God help me, he’s right. Because underneath the fear and the anger and the resentment, there’s want, and need, and desire so deep it’s suffocating. And I hate myself for wanting him, for craving a man I know is no good for me.
“Lie back,” he orders.
“Calder—”
“Shhhh. Trust me. I got you. Lie back.”
My body obeys before my mind can protest.
Calder’s hands trail up my inner thighs, maddeningly slow. “Look at you. All mine. Every single inch of you.”
“I don’t want you,” I lie, hoping he’ll believe me.
“Is that why your pussy is soaked?” His fingers slip beneath the fabric and stroke through the wetness gathered there. I try to bite back the moan of pleasure, but a small sound escapes me.
“You can’t hide the truth from me. Not while you’re dripping all over my hand, and definitely not making the sound you just made.
” His voice is thick with satisfaction. “But if you must tell yourself that I made you do this. I’ll be the bad guy if you want me to be.
” He circles my clit with agonizing lightness, teasing and tempting me.
“Calder,” I whine, lifting my hips involuntarily.
“I want to touch you, to make you come apart, but there’s a lesson to be learned here.”
“I don’t care about your lessons.”
“That’s fine, but if you want to come, you will listen to me.”
He tugs a knife from his boot, raises it to the edge of my panties, and barely slices to make them fall off into a scrap under my ass.
Why did that turn me on even more?
“Touch yourself.”
“What?” I gasp.
“I said touch yourself. Rub your clit. Show me how you get off. I want to watch you.” I squeeze my eyes shut, mortification burning through me.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve done this.
“Please,” I whisper, as my neck and face burn.
“Please, what?”
“You touch me.”
“Where?” His fingers return, tracing everywhere except where I need them. “Here?” He strokes my inner thigh. “Or here?” His thumb presses into my hip bone.
“You know where,” I grit out.
“Say it.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I guess we’re done.” He pulls away, and I swear I’m going to die.
“Wait—” The word tears out of me desperately. “Please. Touch my... touch me there. Please.”
“Where, Saint? I need to hear you say it.”
“My clit,” I whisper, shame flooding my face with more heat. “Please touch my clit.”
“Good girl.” His thumb finds the bundle of nerves, circling it with just enough pressure to make me gasp. “See how easy that was?”
He works me slowly, methodically, building sensation until I’m writhing against the mattress. When I think I can’t take any more, when pleasure is coiling tight in my belly, ready to snap, he stops.
I make a sound that’s almost a sob.
“Not yet,” he says. “You don’t get to come yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is a punishment. You ran from me. Put yourself in danger. Nearly died.” His fingers return, building me up again. “So you’re going to learn a lesson in control. Who is in control.”
He brings me to the edge three more times. Each time, just when I’m about to tip over, he stops. By the fourth time, I’m sobbing. Frustration and need rip through me in an almost painful way.
“Calder, please,” I beg, past caring about pride or shame. “Please let me come. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ran. I won’t do it again. Just please—”
“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Look at me.”
I do. His eyes are shadows under ice, pupils blown wide, jaw clenched tight. He looks as wrecked as I feel.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he says roughly.
“I-I can’t—”
“Tell me, or you don’t get to finish.”
The tears come harder now. Because saying it makes it real. Makes it true. Makes it something I can’t take back.
“I’m yours,” I whisper.
“Again. Louder.”
“I’m yours.” The words tear out of me, in a half sob, half surrender.
“That’s right.” His thumb presses harder and circles faster. Using his other hand, he slides lower, pushing two fingers inside me. “You’re mine, Saint. Mine to protect. Mine to punish. Mine to pleasure.”
The dual sensation is overwhelming, and within seconds, I’m shattering, my back arching off the bed.
A cry tears from my throat that echoes in the small room.
The orgasm rolls through me in waves, each one more intense than the last. Calder doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, just works me through it until I’m boneless and gasping, until the pleasure borders on pain, and I’m begging him to stop.
When he finally withdraws his hand, I’m trembling all over.
Tears streak my temples. My body feels foreign—too sensitive, too aware.
Calder leans over me, one hand braced beside my head. His other hand comes up, thumb brushing away my tears with surprising gentleness.
“You can be a good girl when you want to be,” he murmurs. “Took your punishment like you were supposed to. And hopefully I made my point.”
I can’t speak. Can barely breathe. I just lie there staring up at him while my body remembers how to function.
He helps me sit up slowly, hands steadying me when I sway.
For a moment, we just look at each other.
His breathing is ragged, his jaw still clenched, and I realize with a start that he’s hard.
I can see the evidence straining against his jeans.
“You didn’t—” I start.
He grabs his belt buckle, slides it open, then pulls out his straining erection. I gulp as I stare at it, unsure what to do, even as my body lights up all over again. I’ve never seen anything so long or thick before.
“What…how?”
The corner of his mouth tips up. “Don’t worry, sweet Saint. I’ll teach you what you need to know. For now, just scoot forward and open your pretty mouth for me.”
I gulp as warm heat builds in my gut. I’m out of my element here and unsure how he’s going to put that thing in my mouth without choking me to death, but I do as he says, just like on the horse.
When he taps the blunt head of his penis against my lips, I gasp, tasting the slick saltiness on the tip of it. Oh.
I lap at the velvety smooth tip, and he groans. “Open your mouth, Saint. If you start lapping at me, I won’t be able to control myself.”
“I’ve never done this before,” I say, thinking maybe that will somehow save me.
“Good. I want to be the man who holds all your firsts. Now open up nice and wide for me.” I swallow my anxiety down and open my mouth.
He slides in gently, and I curl my lips over my teeth instinctively.
“Fuck,” Calder curses as he peers down at me, his eyes hooded.
He wears a mask of satisfaction and desire so deep I can almost taste it.
Since I’ve never done this before, I don’t know if I’m doing it right.
It doesn’t appear to matter since Calder takes control and starts to thrust into my mouth shallowly. “Use your tongue.”
I start to stroke him with my tongue, and it occurs to me then just how much I want to please him. That I want to make him feel this way.
His musky clean scent fills my nostrils, and as I grow more confident, I reach forward and brace my hands on his muscular hips while he threads himself deeper into my mouth. Reaching out, he tangles one of his hands in my hair. His grip is firm but gentle as if to keep me in place.
“Relax for me, sweet girl. Relax your throat so I can go deeper.”
I have no idea what he means, but I try, and somehow he presses deeper.
On the next thrust of his hips, he’s deeper than he ever has been, and all I can do is gag and blink away the tears that appear in my eyes from the intrusion.
He does it again, and again, his thrusts growing faster and deeper.
With each stroke, I choke on his length and my own saliva.
Drool slips down my chin, and I can only imagine how I look right now. Wrecked. Ravaged.
“Fuck,” Calder hisses, and goes deeper, holding himself at the back of my throat for a moment before pulling back to do it all over again. With each stroke, his grip on my hair tightens a little more, making my scalp burn as he pulls the strands. “Your mouth feels like heaven.”
All I can do is hum in response. He thrusts to the back of my throat once more and holds himself there, this time a little longer, and the gagging sensation intensifies.
“Shit. I’m going to come,” he growls, his movements becoming more frenzied. “I’m going to come down your throat, sweet girl. Fill your mouth with my cum.”
His filthy words awaken something in me. They make my insides warm, and my core tight. I shouldn’t want to give him pleasure, I shouldn’t want to satisfy him, but I do. Like a volcano, he erupts, and his warm release fills my mouth and throat.
I have no choice but to swallow or choke on it.
With a sigh, he pulls out of my mouth and releases his hold on my hair.
His gaze roams over my face, and his expression softens, becoming almost curious.
Like he’s seeing me in a way he’s never seen me before.
Relaxing, he’s staring and giving himself away.
He shakes his head, and the look disappears.
Using his own flannel shirt, he wipes the drool and snot from my face.
My lips feel bruised and swollen, and when I swallow, there’s a raw ache in my throat. I’m confused and turned on, and I’m not sure if I should be insulted or feel good about making him lose control like he did.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” he says—quiet, rough, like the words cost him something he never meant to give.
“I shouldn’t have let it. This wasn’t supposed to be about me.
” He pulls me upright, and my legs don’t cooperate—knees trembling, balance shot, the ground tilting like it’s trying to spit me back down.
I grip his forearm, more out of instinct than trust, hating that I need him just to stand.
His demeanor shifts—regret evaporating, replaced by something colder, deliberate.
His control slides back into place like a loaded chamber locking shut.
“This was about teaching you a lesson,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath ghosts along my cheek.
“About making sure you understand exactly who holds control here—and the danger you walk straight into when you think you can defy me.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
“Do you?” His hand cups my jaw, forcing my gaze back to his.
His touch is gentle, his control isn’t. “Because I need you to really understand, Saint. If you try to run again, if you put yourself in danger—I will find you.” He drags his thumb over my lower lip, a warning disguised as something tender.
“And next time,” he murmurs, “the punishment will be worse.”
“I won’t run.”
“I guess we’ll see about that,” he says, releasing me.
As soon as he takes a step back, the connection between us severs. The walls he so easily tore down rise once more. They’re not nearly as strong as they were before, but they’re still there. They’re the only form of protection I have.
I try not to think about the words Calder forced me to say, or if there is any real truth behind them. I’m yours. I can’t take back what I said. And even if I didn’t mean it, it doesn’t change the truth. I belong to him, in body and soul. Till death do us part.
“Tomorrow is the rodeo. I can’t prepare you any more than I already have.
It’s do or die, Saint. We’ve got one chance to sell this, to save ourselves.
” The pressure is unbearable. Lying isn’t in my DNA.
It’s not who I am. Anyone who really knows me will see right through it, just like my father did.
“Allie will be there as well. I need you to convince her that everything is fine. That you chose this. Can you do that?”
Can I? I think about my best friend. I can only imagine the questions she has and how worried she’s been.
Then there is her mother, Emma. She’s got lawyers, money, and influence.
It wouldn’t take much on her end to blow this entire thing up in our faces.
I have to sell this. I have to make it look believable because the consequence is death.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I don’t have any other choice.”
Calder moves to get more coffee. “That’s right, and remember it’s not just us who will suffer the consequences. There are other lives on the line too. Your father’s and Allie’s. “
I know he isn’t intentionally threatening me, but I can’t seem to separate him from the danger. Which makes sense, since he’s the entire reason I’m in this mess to begin with. He returns to my side and hands me a cup of coffee.
“I don’t want to put anyone else at risk. I’ll do whatever I can to make this believable.”
“He hands me a cup, and I realize I can’t escape the truth neither of us wants to face. Something between us is changing. And I don’t know if that makes things better or infinitely worse.