The lake is dark, almost as if it’s a piece of glass that could shatter at any time. I feel as if I’m close to shattering. As if I can break as soon as I hear the door click behind me. Hudson called an hour ago telling me he’ll be here tonight. As much as I hate him, he seemed to be taking to the idea of the wedding far-too well.

“I’m out here,” I call to him.

“I know.” The voice that comes from behind me isn’t Hudson’s, which causes me to leap to my feet. When I find him standing in the doorway, I want to run up and leap into his arms, but I don’t. I’m still angry.

“What are you doing here?”

He smirks, pushing off the door frame. “Well,” he starts, closing the distance between us easily with a few steps. “I wanted to come and see the pretty bride to be.” His voice is tainted with fury. It’s so harsh it trickles over me, making me shiver.

“You don’t get to do this, Callan,” I tell him, folding my arms in front of my chest, which draws his eyes to my breasts.

“Do what, Blossom?” he questions softly, his voice dripping desire. His hands are on my hips, pulling me closer. “This?” he asks. Leaning in, he plants a soft kiss on my check. “Or this?” He trails his tongue over my cheek lightly. “Or was it this?” he questions as he finds my neck, suckling the sensitive flesh into his mouth, his teeth biting down as he asserts the way he’s assaulting my flesh, and even though I should stop him, I don’t want to.

His fingers dig into my hips, his cock pressing against my stomach, warning me of the thickness hiding behind his zipper. His body is taut with restraint. My hands land on his shoulders, and he visibly ripples with it. He needs this as much as I do.

“Callan, please,” I whimper, and that’s all he needs to lift me by my hips and carry me to the bedroom. All the way up the stairs, he kisses me. Our mouths fused, our tongues duel and dance as he owns me once more.

When we reach the room, he sets me down on the bed, his body still nestled between my thighs, his hands on either side of my head. And there’s something in his eyes telling me so much more than any words he can offer.

“Why did you come here?” My question stills him for a moment. He presses his hips against me, allowing his cock against my clit to send a jolt of pleasure through me.

“You’re mine.” Two words whispered to me in the dark make me smile. “I came here to make sure you remember no matter who’s in your bed.” He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my pouty lips. “I’m the one who can make you scream for god.”

“You can’t just walk in here and expect me to forgive you for leaving. You left without an explanation, Callan. I didn’t know if you were dead or not. I needed you.” My words are far too fragile for this moment, and he sees it. He sees how broken I am.

“I needed you safe. My life — Fuck, there’s so much wrong in my life. I’ve spent this time fighting a war, hoping my princess is safe.” There’s a sweetness in his words that breaks through my anger. “I’m no knight, Madison, and there’s no doubt I’ll never be a prince, but I can keep you safe from a distance.”

“I don’t want you at a distance,” I tell him earnestly. I wish he’d see that without him I’m worse off. I don’t know why. I can’t explain our connection, but it’s there. It always has been.

“Then I’ll be right here, for tonight. I can’t promise you forever, Madison. I told you that before. I’m not ready for hearts-and-flowers shit.”

“Such a romantic,” I sass him, earning me a gentle chuckle.

“I’ll show you romantic,” he tells me. Rising to full height, he pulls out a thin strip of material from his jacket pocket, a pair of cuffs that were hidden on the waistband of his black jeans, and his sleek silver blade. “Lie back, baby girl. Tonight, I’m claiming what’s mine.”

“Hudson will be here soon,” I inform him, but the look on his face tells me I’m wrong. He’s done something. “What did you do?” I move back onto the bed, my head on the pillows.

“He’s rather tied up at the moment,” he responds with a wink then proceeds in tying my wrists to the posts on either side of the headboard. My legs are bound open to the wooden frame foot-end of the bed. When he’s done, he steps back to admire me from where he’s standing. “Perfect.”

The small pair of shorts I was wearing, and the slinky material of my panties are sliced from my body along with my tank top. I’m bared to him once more, and I wonder if he can see my soul crying out for this, for him.

From the inner part of his dark jacket, he pulls out a long, slim strip of leather, and I note it’s a whip. It’s coiled like a serpent, and when he grips the handle and releases the long tongue, it whooshes in the air. He shrugs his jacket off and tugs the T-shirt he’s wearing from the waistband of his jeans.

“Are you ready to play?”

“Yes, Callan.” I whimper when he brings the whip down over my thighs. Again and again. Over the marks I’ve hidden for so long. His gaze burns into me, past those silver reminders of my past. He turns my skin red, and I revel in it. My hips lift when the fine point of the leather nips at where my clit is hidden by my panties, causing me to cry out in agonizing pleasure.

“Please. Oh, god, please,” I beg, pleading with him to fuck me, make me come. Anything. It’s torture being away from him, but being near him and not feeling his hands on me is driving me insane.

“Did you fuck him?” he asks as he continues his assault on my legs, shins, my stomach. “Did you, Madison?”

“No!” I shriek when it hits my nipple, the hardened bud throbbing as he smirks down at me. After the lashings, he sets the whip down and shoves his shoes off. Then with one hand, pulls his tee up and over his head, and I’m met with the glorious view of his toned torso, his tanned skin, and the thick bulge in his now open jeans. The zipper is low, and his pants hang from his tapered hips.

He crawls over me, hovering above me like a hunter about to attack its prey. He uses his knife and trails it over and around my nipple, the rosy color darkening and puckering against the cold metal.

“So pretty,” he says in awe, copying the action with my other breast. “All day, all night, every fucking hour of the day, Madison,” he grunts, then lifts his gaze to mine. The sharp tip of the blade under my chin. “I think about you, about your smile, your eyes, I fantasize about your pretty little cunt and how tight it is around my dick.”

The filthy words he’s offering only intensifies the ache between my legs. My skin is tingling from my whipping, my clit throbbing for attention.

“And you know what I do?” he says, leaning in, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. Tugging it between his teeth, then laving at it with his tongue. He tortures me like this for what feels like hours.  

He lifts his gaze to mine. “I fist my cock. I stroke it slowly,” he tells me, and by the time his mouth moves lower, over my bare stomach to my belly button, I’m a puddle of arousal just waiting for him to drink me in.

“Callan, please,” I beg shamelessly. My legs splayed, I’m open. I can smell myself.

“You’re so wet, Blossom,” he smirks. “Is my pretty flower wanting to be plucked and devoured?” He uses the knife in his hand to trail along my mound, eliciting a whimper and mewl from me. “Look at that beautiful cunt.” His gaze is locked on my core, his tongue darting out to lick his lips hungrily. “I want to eat it until you’re shaking, then I’m going to fuck you raw. I want you to hurt tomorrow. I want you to remember when he walks in here later that I’m the one who fucking owns you.”

He drops his head between my thighs, and his mouth goes to work on my body. His tongue fucks me deep as if his cock is driving into me. My toes curl when he sucks my clit into his mouth. With two thick fingers, he dips them into my pussy, crooking them to press against the sweet spot inside me that sets the fireworks off. They shoot behind my eyelids as I cry out in pleasure.

My hips rock against his face. I’m fucking myself on his mouth, and all I can think of is more. I need it. I want it. He doesn’t relent. His lips close around my smooth lips, and he drinks me like I’m his favorite beverage. His fingers tease my back entrance, swirling around it with my arousal, and when his finger slips into the tight ring of muscle, I find another release, soaking Callan’s mouth, chin, and coating his tongue in my juices.

I’m nowhere near coming down from my high when I feel him at my pussy. His cock gently nudging me open. “Look, Madison,” he tells me.

I open my eyes and find the sight of his cock against the lips of my pussy too much, and I moan loudly. “Please, Callan, just fuck me.”

“Watch how my big cock splits your pretty petals. Look how I break my Blossom.” He’s growling like a rabid dog as he inches into me. Once he’s fully seated, he doesn’t move for a moment, and then, before I have time to say anything, he pulls out and drives back in, causing my body to slide up the bed.

He reaches for my neck, gripping me tightly, and my body pulses with need. “You love my fingers wrapped around your throat. Don’t you, Blossom?” he grits out through clenched teeth. “You see, Madison, you’re breathless and vulnerable.”

I want to claw at his wrist, to dig my nails into the flesh, igniting dark desire inside him, but I can’t. Instead, I nod as I lift my hips, begging wordlessly for more.

“You’re mine.” Two words have me whimpering as tears form in my eyes when I realize it’s true. I see it in his eyes. He loves me. He can’t say it, but he doesn’t need to. It’s written all over his face. His expression tells me everything I need to know.

We move in sync.

Our hips slam against each other.

His hands on my hips, holding me in place as he fucks me into the mattress.

There’s an overflow of love here, but we’re not sweet and gentle. There’s nothing more than two people who need each other to be whole. And when we’re connected, with him inside my like this, I’m me.

Finally.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he utters into my neck, his mouth latching on as he ruts like an animal that’s just lost all control.

“I want to come. I want you to fill me, Callan, please.” Words fall from my mouth. My wrists ache, my ankles protest, but when I roll my hips and squeeze myself around him, I draw his orgasm as mine suddenly slams into me, and I call his name again.

I chant it. It’s my prayer.

He’s my savior.

And my sin.