Because He Owns Me (Because He Owns Me, Book One) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (4 page)

Finally, he stopped completely.

I started to open my eyes, but he barked, “Eyes
on the floor.”

I immediately averted my gaze.

“Stand up,” he said, “and make sure you keep
your eyes on the floor.”

I stood up and he began to undress me, pulling
my pants off, sliding my shirt off and tossing it onto the floor.
 
 
His hands roamed over my body, his
fingertips brushing down my bare arms before he put his hands on my shoulders
and pushed me down until I was kneeling on the hard floor.

“Unbutton my pants,” he commanded.

I did as I was told, my hands shaking as I
fumbled with his belt.

What are you doing, Adriana?

What the
hell
are you doing?

I wasn’t sure.
 

All I knew was that I couldn’t stop.

“Take out my cock, baby.”
 

I hesitated, then reached inside his boxers and
felt for his dick.
 
It was already
hard, and I pulled it out and stroked in gently in my hand.
 
He was bigger and thicker than any man
I’d been with, and I thought about how much it would hurt if he decided to fuck
me.
 
I was shocked to find the
thought excited me.

He reached down and grabbed the strap of my
bra, snapped it against my shoulder hard.
 
A tiny burn of pain pulsed through me as I began to stroke him up and
down, careful to keep my eyes on the floor.

He reached down and cupped my chin, slipped his
finger inside my mouth. I sucked on it hungrily.

“Mouth closed,” he growled and removed his
finger from my mouth.
 
“Eyes shut.”

I closed my eyes and felt him rubbing the head
of his dick over my closed lips. A second later, I felt it parting the barrier
of my lips as he invaded my mouth.

He tasted acrid and good, and my center flooded
with searing heat so wet I could feel my panties sticking to my pussy.

“Look at me,” he whispered finally.

I looked at him, his blue eyes locked on mine,
and it was like a million mini explosions went off inside of my body.
 
Everything came into sharp razor focus,
every sense of my body heightened.
 
I could taste him, touch him,
smell
him in
bright detail.

“Use your hand, baby,” he groaned as I sucked
him, and I wrapped my hand around his shaft, stroking him into my mouth.
 
I loved the look of bliss on his face as
he fucked my mouth, and I shivered, loving that I could please him.

The way he was being so forceful excited me,
and when he put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me all the way down
on his dick, causing me to almost choke, I almost came.

He released me, and I sputtered a bit.
 
I took a moment to catch my breath and once
I did, I went to reach for his cock again.
 
But in that half a second of hesitation, I caught sight of myself in one
of the mirrors that lined the wall.

My hair was mussed, my eyes wide and rimmed
with smudged eyeliner.

One strap my bra hung down over my arm, and the
cups were pushed down, allowing my breasts to swell over the top.

My back was arched, my panty-clad ass high in
the air, and I was leaning back on my high heels.
 

I looked nothing like myself.
 
I looked crazed and out of control.

Panic pounded through me and this time, I
wasn’t strong enough to stop it.

What the hell are you doing, Adriana?

 
I
stood up and began gathering my clothes.

“What’s wrong?” Callum asked
,
his voice laced with concern.
 
“Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, buttoning my shirt and
stepping into my jeans.
 
“I just… I
can’t.”

I pushed by him, running out of the room and
out of the restaurant, zipping up my pants I went.

 
I
thought I heard him behind me, calling my name, his voice echoing down the hall
and following me through the crowd.

But I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, and
I kept going, pushing through the throng of people in leather and silk until I
was out safely out on the sidewalks of New York.

***

My apartment was a small two bedroom in a nice
enough neighborhood all the way uptown, in Morningside Heights.
 
It was the basement apartment of a three-
story walk-up, but the windows were above ground, and there was a gate with a
keypad blocking off access from the sidewalk.
 
Across the street was a daycare, the
windows of the building filled with the bright colors of children’s art
projects.
 
There were a few decent restaurants
on my street, and a cute little gift shop on the corner. The subway ride to
midtown could be a bitch, but the area was nice, and the apartment was spacious
by New York City standards.
 

My roommate Nessa had gone to bed by the time I
got home, but she’d left a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter
covered in Saran Wrap, with a note saying to help myself.

I considered eating one, but the thought of
food wasn’t appealing.

My body was still wired, and I couldn’t stop
thinking about what had just happened.

I couldn’t believe I’d done something like
that!
 
Giving a complete stranger a
blow job
, and not only that, but
liking
it?
 
It was insane.

For a moment, I wondered if maybe Callum had
slipped something into my drink, something that made me lose my
inhibitions.
 
I was always a ball of
anxiety and nerves, and yes, being in that room with him had made me nervous,
but it had also made me feel alive for the first time in as long as I could
remember.

But if I’d been drugged, would I still be able
to remember all of it so sharply?
 
I
wondered what would have happened if I’d stayed.
 
Would he have tied me up?
 
Fucked me?
 
Spanked me?
 
Beat me?
 
Blindfolded me?

The thoughts swirled through my head, making me
dizzy.

I poured myself a glass of water and walked
into my room.

I slid into bed and listened to the sounds of
the city through the window.
 

My whole body felt feverish.

Callum.

Just the thought of him made my belly quiver.

I dipped my hand into the top of my panties,
remembering how his fingers had done the same thing.
 
I closed my eyes and pretended my hand
was his, remembered how he’d fingered my pussy, how he’d made me keep my eyes
away from his until finally he’d allowed me to look at him, exploding my body into
a burst of need.

You’re never going to see him again,
I told myself as I drifted off to sleep.
 
So forget about it.

When I woke up the next morning, I could hear
the sounds of Nessa clattering around in the kitchen.
 

My eyelids felt heavy, and the sun streaming
through the window didn’t help things.
 

Callum.

He was my first thought.

The way he’d felt in my mouth, the taste of
lemon he’d left on my lips.

Forget him,
I told myself again, more forcefully this time.
 
You have to focus on getting a job
now that you’re in New York, not getting all worked up about some guy who’s not
even a thing.

I brushed my teeth and scraped my hair back
into a ponytail, then padded into the kitchen in my pajamas -- a pair of black
cotton drawstring pants and a white tank top.

When I got to the kitchen, Nessa was sitting
there, a huge mirror set in front of her on the table. It was the kind of
mirror that magnified your every
pore, that
blew up
every blemish and spot to four times its normal size.
 
In other words, it was every woman’s
worst nightmare.

“Good morning,” I said, reaching up and
grabbing a cup out of the cupboard and setting it under the Keurig.
 
“Is this okay?” I asked Nessa.

“Is what okay?” she asked, frowning.

“Me just making coffee.”

“Yeah, of course,” she said, waving her hand.
 
“Mi casa su casa.”
 

“Thanks.”
 
I’d only been living here for a few days – Nessa and I had known
each other in college, and she’d moved into this apartment right after
graduation. I’d spent the summer back in Michigan, waiting tables at a pizza
place and saving money for my move to New York.
 
When Nessa found out I needed a place to
stay, she offered for me to move in with her.
 
The rent was a little more than I had
been
wanting
to pay, but the apartment was cute and I
liked the though of living with someone I already knew.
 
But I needed to get a job.
 
Fast.
 

I made a note to buy some groceries for the
apartment today.
 
The last thing I
wanted was to seem like
a mooch
.

Nessa turned to look at me.
 
“Look at my face!” she demanded.
 
“Just look at it!”
 
I peered at her, not sure exactly what to
say.
 
Nessa was pretty.
 
She had shiny auburn hair and a few
freckles sprinkled over her nose and an infectious laugh.
 
She’d been my roommate freshmen year at
Michigan State, and even though we’d drifted a little bit since then, I’d
always still considered her a friend.

“What’s wrong with your face?” I asked, even
though I knew immediately what she was talking about.
 
There was a huge zit on the chin, the
kind that sprouted underneath the skin and turned an angry red color, the kind
of zit that no amount of benzoyl peroxide cream or concealer was going to
help.
 
You just had to wait it out.

“Hello!” Nessa yelled.
 
“My face is completely disgusting, there
is a huge pimple on my chin.”
 
She
turned back to the mirror, and for the first time, I noticed the tweezers in
her hand.
 
She poked at the
pimple.
 
“I cannot go to work like
this,” she said. “It’s bad for business.”

Nessa was an assistant in a dermatology office.
 
She’d wanted to be a dermatologist, but her
grades hadn’t been quite good enough to get her into medical school.
 
So she was taking a year off to pad her
application with some real world experience before applying again in the
spring.

“Maybe they could give you something at work,”
I suggested.
 
“Doesn’t the doctor
have all kinds of prescription creams?”

I added a couple of packets of Splenda to my
coffee, then went to the refrigerator and grabbed some half and half, making a
mental note to pick up more at the store later.

“If I could just pull it out,” Nessa said,
poking angrily at her chin with the tweezers.
 
I wondered briefly if she’d made sure to
sterilize them before she went hacking away at her skin.
 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to pop
pimples,” I tried.

“I’m not popping it,” she said.
 
“I’m trying to remove it from deep
within my pores.”

Something about this seemed off, but I decided
not to press her on it.
 
Who was I
to judge?
 
I’d gone to a BDSM club
last night and given a
blow job
to a stranger.

“How was last night?” Nessa asked.
 
“Was your blind date as cute as his
pictures?”

I took my coffee over to the table and sat down
across from her, trying not to think about the fact that Nessa was doing what
ultimately amounted to a medical procedure in the middle of a common eating
area.

“He stood me up,” I said.
 
“And not only that, but the place he
invited me to was a BDSM club.
 
I
didn’t realize it until I was already there.”

“Oh my God!” Nessa shrieked.
 
“What was it like?”

“It was… strange,” I said, not sure exactly how
much I wanted to tell her.

“Did you see women getting raped?”

“What?
 
No!” I said.
 
“It wasn’t like
that.”

She set her tweezers down and looked at me, her
green eyes curious.
 
“Oh my God,”
she said slowly.
 
“You liked it.”