Chapter 9 #2
"I'm not signing up for anything." He takes the key from my hand and fastens the chain around my neck. The silver settles between my breasts, cool against my heated skin. "I already signed up. The moment I offered you a fake relationship in that bar. I just didn't know it yet."
The key feels like a brand. A promise. A claiming that goes deeper than anything we've done in this room.
"I love you." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I know it's too soon and we're both insane and this is probably going to blow up in our faces, but I love you. I've loved you since you called me out on my bullshit at The Velvet Antler and didn't flinch when I pushed back."
His smile transforms his face. Open and young and so full of joy it makes my chest ache.
"I love you too." He kisses me, soft and sweet and nothing like the commanding Dom who's taken me apart in this room. "I've loved you since you ordered three fingers of Macallan and looked at me like I was either going to be the best thing that ever happened to you or your biggest mistake."
"Jury's still out on which one."
"Brat." He bites my lower lip gently. "I think you need a reminder of who's in charge."
Heat floods through me. "Is that so?"
"Mmhmm." His hands find the hem of my sweater. "Strip. Then get on the bed. Face up, arms above your head."
The command voice. The one that turns my knees to water and my brain to static.
"What if I don't want to?"
His eyes darken. "Then I'll make you. And you'll enjoy every second of it."
God help me, I will.
I strip slowly, holding his gaze as each piece of clothing falls away. He watches without moving, his expression hungry and patient and completely in control.
When I'm finally naked, I climb onto the bed and stretch out the way he instructed. Arms above my head. Legs slightly parted. Completely exposed and unbearably aroused.
Callum takes his time approaching. He sheds his own clothes piece by piece, letting me watch. By the time he's naked, his cock hard and thick against his stomach, I'm already trembling with need.
"Look at you." He crawls over me, his body a cage of heat and muscle. "So beautiful. So desperate. And all mine."
"Yours." The word comes out like a prayer.
"That's right." He reaches up and wraps my fingers around the headboard. "Keep your hands here. Don't let go unless I tell you to."
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl." He kisses his way down my throat, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts. "Tonight I'm going to take my time. I'm going to worship every inch of you. And when I finally let you come, you're going to scream my name so loud the neighbors hear it."
"We don't have neighbors. We're on a mountain."
"Then the bears will hear it." He bites the curve of my breast hard enough to make me gasp. "Stop being a brat and let me love you."
What follows is the most intense experience of my life.
He takes me apart slowly, methodically, with hands and mouth and words that sear themselves into my skin. He learns every response, every shiver, every moan, cataloguing my pleasure like it's the most important work he's ever done.
When he finally pushes inside me, I'm so wound up I nearly come immediately. He stops, holds perfectly still, his jaw clenched with the effort of restraint.
"Not yet." His voice is strained. "You come when I tell you to."
"Callum, please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me. Please let me come. Please, I need you, I can't—"
He starts to move, and I lose the ability to form words.
This is nothing like the other times. This is claiming. Possession. Every thrust brands me as his, marks me from the inside out. The key bounces against my chest with each movement, a constant reminder of what I've agreed to. What I've chosen.
"Look at me." His command cuts through the haze of pleasure. "I want to see your eyes when you fall apart."
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity there steals what's left of my breath.
"I love you." He punctuates each word with a deep stroke. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you what that means."
"I love you too." Tears stream down my temples. "I'm yours. I'm completely yours."
"Then come for me, Nadia." He grinds against my clit, hitting that devastating spot inside me at the same time. "Come for me now."
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me with the force of a revelation. I scream his name, just like he promised, my body convulsing around his as wave after wave crashes over me. He follows a moment later, groaning my name into my throat as he spills himself inside me.
We lie tangled together in the aftermath, sweat-slicked and gasping and utterly wrecked.
"Holy shit," I manage when I remember how to speak.
"Eloquent."
"Shut up. You broke my brain."
He laughs against my shoulder, and the vibration sends aftershocks rippling through my oversensitive body.
"So." He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a satisfaction that's entirely too smug. "Does this mean you're staying?"
I touch the key resting against my chest. Silver and warm from my skin.
"I'm staying." I pull him down for a kiss that tastes like sweat and joy and the beginning of forever. "I'm staying for as long as you'll have me."
"Then you better get comfortable." His hand covers mine over the key. "Because I'm never letting you go."
For the first time in my life, that promise doesn't make me want to run.