Chapter Two — Callum
I’ve met a lot of beautiful women in my lifetime. But I don’t think anyone has ever taken my breath away until her.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her dolled up, either. But this time it’s different.
She opens the door wearing a green satin, emerald-colored dress. Her light brown hair is shiny and falls in soft waves. Her skin is radiant; her lips glow with a slight sheen. Her eyes are bright and wild.
She has on that beautiful necklace she always wears, the one that matches her dress. Small silver hoop earrings on her ears. And she’s wearing those ridiculous five-inch heels, the ones I asked her to wear.
She’s perfect.
“You look stunning,” I say.
She beams.
“Come here.”
She steps towards me, and I grab her face. I cradle it in my hand and envelop her mouth with mine. I kiss her. Then I kiss her again, nibbling her lower lip slightly before pressing my mouth greedily against hers.
I inhale every inch of her, darting my tongue into her mouth, exploring her like I own her.
One of my hands encircles her throat. She’s so small that I’m easily able to wrap my hand around her throat.
My other hand dips to her waist, squeezing it.
She’s so fucking small. Fragile. I love it.
She moans into my mouth softly, and I feel like I’m about to lose it.
I feel my cock grow hard in my pants and I grab her waist harder, pulling her against me.
My hands dig into her sides, and suddenly all I can think about is ripping that beautiful dress of hers, pinning her against the wall, and taking her right fucking now.
But I can’t. I have to have some self-control. I have to do things the right way.
In fact, this is our first kiss. Which is kind of crazy, given everything else we’ve done. I don’t kiss just any girl. I hardly ever kiss the women I fuck. Because I don’t care about most of them. I hardly ever do. But Alex is different. I actually care about her.
Fuck. I’ve been trying to deny that to myself for weeks.
But one of my main mottos in life is to always be honest with myself. And that means admitting my own feelings. And my feelings have been staring me straight in the face for weeks now.
I like this girl. She’s special. She’s perfect. She’s mine. Or at least, that’s how it feels. It strikes me that we haven’t had any discussions about exclusivity or anything, although I would assume she wouldn’t be interested in seeing any other man.
I move my hand that’s wrapped around her neck up to her hair, grabbing it and pulling.
She moans again into my mouth, and I press my lips more hungrily against hers. I want to bruise her. Hurt her. And at the same time, make love to her. I don’t know how I can have so many conflicting emotions at once, but they’re all there, swirled in desire. Hot, red, uncontrollable.
She tastes so sweet. Like cotton candy and kettle corn. I could just about inhale her in one deep breath. I want to crush her against my tongue, flatten her like a cloud of cotton candy into sugar. That’s what she feels like: beautiful, perfect, fragile, and sweet.
I want to destroy her, but protect her at the same time. My cock stretches harder against my pants, and I feel myself starting to lose control. My head swirls with dark thoughts. I have to stop this now.
I step back, and she sighs.
And that little noise itself is almost enough to make me abandon any plan I had and throw her against the wall right here and now. But I don’t.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods, her cheeks pink and flushed. God, she’s too cute. You know that phenomenon of things being so cute you want to bite them? Like little animals? That’s her, to a T.
“Come on, then, sweetheart,” I say, extending my hand.
She grabs it, and I’m struck by how small it is.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought that, but it hits me harder this time.
Maybe because I haven’t held her hand quite like this before.
Her hand feels like a child’s in mine. At the same time, it’s smooth and soft and smells like vanilla. I want to protect her against everyone.
I lead her towards the car and open the door. She smiles at me and slides in gracefully, like a lady. And that’s one thing I love about her, she is so ladylike. So classy. Yet underneath that, there’s a side of her that only I get to see.
Just thinking about that ignites something in me. I open my side of the car, get in, and put the keys in the ignition.