Chapter 4 #3
I need to have his hips rocking and feel him slide deep into me with every thrust, until he loses himself and fully claims me.
I want him to make me feel the pain of having him and not having him at the same time.
How many times have I thought about this?
I want to get him to the point of ripping my clothes off, handling me roughly, and driving his hard-on into me like it was a hit job, the last thing he needed to do in this life.
One time.
That’s all I need.
One single time with him.
If he takes me one time… If he spreads my legs and feels the fire howling in my blood, he’ll never need another woman ever again.
Never. Ever. Period.
One time.
That’s all I need.
Having my legs locked around him, with his eyes feeding on the fire in my soul, he’ll never know anything besides me.
Panting, I enjoy the pleasure soaring through my body, and the wet arousal trickling down my legs.
Another wasted day.
Another missed opportunity.
My nipples turn into beaded tips as heat is all I feel, despite the breeze, the fan, and the thick walls keeping the house cool inside. A blaze of fire between my legs. Inside my chest. In the recesses of my soul.
And then, at once, I tense up.
These are the moments when I’d straight out scream for him if I were alone in the house.
Like a mad woman, I’d open every door and check every room, hoping he arrived.
I’d do anything to get him here.
I haven’t seen Callum in two years, and every time I ask about his whereabouts, they all suffer from amnesia.
Is he in New York, cutting onerous deals? Or is he up north in Tuscany?
He may be in Dubai or down south in Argentina.
Nona said she didn’t think he’d come. But something tells me that he will.
Regardless of where he is, he’s here with me in my head, fucking with my brain.
I stretch my arm out, place my lemonade on the windowsill, and roll to my back.
Facing the ceiling, I push my hips up like a cat in heat, grab the hemline, and roll my skirt past my shoulders, not giving a damn that the windows are wide open and dim lights gleam in the room, exposing me to the outside world.
It wouldn’t be the first time some man working around the house had gotten a glimpse of my pert chest and round ass and jerked off at the idea of me when he got home.
These men know they can’t touch me.
Unless they don’t value their lives and want to die for me, they need to keep it in their pants. That doesn’t mean they can’t indulge in dirty thoughts.
I drop the dress on the floor and slide back onto the bed, completely naked.
I wish I could edge a little longer, but my brain tricks me swiftly, dragging me to the finish line.
Thinking about him usually makes me come, and it often happens without the manual labor required to have a satisfying orgasm.
I’ve ignored and suppressed my needs and desires for so long that nothing helps me prolong the pre–orgasmic phase these days.
I wish he could be here with me, drag his mouth over my boobs, take a trip up, and part my lips with his tongue.
Once I had him in my mouth, I’d curl my hand around his hard length and pull him into me with a fervor he had never witnessed in his life.
Sprawled on my back, I watch the sheer curtain flow in the breeze, the lit candle shivering on the sill, the dark ballooning outside as I swiftly enter a state of high.
Callum O’Hara will be mine.
My fingers dance down my stomach, past my navel, and stop between my folds.
I slowly slide my forefinger down and touch my clit, imagining his lips pressed against it, his tongue teasing it.
Then I drag my fingers farther down.
The room smells like fresh lemons, sweet vanilla from the scented candles, and wet arousal.
The only missing piece is his musky smell and the aroma of his semen. I want it inside me and on me. I want to wear it like an expensive gown.
Closing my eyes, I have the image of his mouth between my legs, his eyes piercing me with fierceness I’ve never seen in anyone else.
A smile clings to my lips.
He wouldn’t approve of this, and he’d push back, although he’d have no choice but to fuck me.
I’ll be his nightmare and his bliss.
My finger slips between my thigh walls, and just like that, a shock of pleasure sweeps through me, and my knees spike, my thighs quivering as moans shoot up my chest.
The pleasure is sublime. My mind is engrossed in the idea of him, and everything else follows suit.
Out of the blue, voices ring inside the house, and footsteps trail toward my room.
I don’t even flinch.
If anyone dares to walk into my room without my permission, I’ll put a hit on them.
I don’t care who it is.
Pushing my hips against my hand, I imagine that gorgeous man between my thighs, picking up the pace, losing it, doing what he’s supposed to do. What he would need to do so I wouldn’t lose my mind.
My fingers are sticky with warm wetness as the last few aftershocks sweep through me.
I slowly relax, open my eyes, and listen. The noise only grows as more footsteps ring outside.
The house is ready for my guests.
I’m simply not.
I’m still tending to my tortured body, imagining the aftercare with his arms wrapped around my body, and my head pressed against his chest.
Even if I make it happen, this will have to be our secret.
Something tells me he’ll show up tonight.
My intuition is almost always right.
So, I’ll need to wash my hair, remove the smell of my fantasizing about him from my body, and get ready to meet and greet the outside world, and maybe him?
It would be smart for him to come alone. No female friends for him tonight.
He may be a dashing widower, and my grandparents might not have anything against it, but I would.
No women, Callum, all right?
I’m even worse when I’m facing competition.
I roll to my stomach and look out the window again.
The branches of the lemon trees sway in the breeze while the sea stretches out in front of me like a rug of glinting stars.
The land looks wildly alive on three sides of the villa, guarded by the greenery, pools, and lounging areas.
The place looks fantastic with rich garlands of flowers, and hundreds of lights and lit candles.
Mellow live music hovers over the house as the aroma of orange blossoms fills the air.
I’ll be fashionably late tonight.
I need my beauty sleep now, and I also need a few more moments to linger on the cliffs of my imagination.
I love you, Callum. I always will.
With that, I drift off to sleep.