Because He Takes Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Two) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (3 page)

I thought about it.
 
“No,” I said.
 
“But my sex life is no one’s business
but my own.”
 
The words felt strange
coming out of my mouth.
 
Sex life.
 
I had a sex life
now.
 
I’d never had a real sex life
before.
 
I wasn’t a virgin –
I’d had sex with two guys in college, one I was dating for a few months, the
other I’d dated for a year.
 
Both of
the experiences had been good – if not quite
earth-shattering
--,
at least compared to the horror stories I’d heard from my friends.

Callum nodded, seemingly satisfied with this
answer.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say
something else, but the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

“Passengers, this is Flight AC112, headed for
Tampa, Florida, arriving at approximately 1:13 pm.
 
Please take your seats and buckle up for
takeoff.”

We found our seats, the two of us sitting next
to each other in the middle of the plane, my body sinking back into the
luxurious leather.
 
I wanted more
than anything to take an Ativan, which is what I’d done to get through the
flight I’d taken from Michigan to New York, but I didn’t have any after Callum
had crushed my pills at the bar the other night.

The jet’s engines roared to life, and a moment
later the plane began ascending into the air.

I gripped the armrests hard, taking slow breaths
in an effort to calm myself.

“Nervous, Lemon?”
 
Callum’s voice was in my ear, soft and
teasing, his breath tickling my neck.
 
He put his hand on my thigh, the way he’d done at the club, and I felt
myself tense, heat rushing through my body, the adrenaline from the take off
mixing with the intoxicating feeling of his hands on my body.

“No,” I lied.

“You’re lying again.”
 
He took his hand off my thigh and gently
took my hand from the armrest and put it in his own.
 
“Try to hurt me.”

“What?” I asked.
 

“Squeeze my hand as tight as you can.
 
Try to hurt me.”

“What?
 
That’s insane, it’s –”

“Do it.”
 
His voice was gruff, commanding, the same voice he’d used on me at the
club, and I shivered, then did as he said, squeezing his hand as hard as I
could.

“Oh, come on, Lemon,” he said,
 
“
you
can do
better than that.”

I tightened my grip, squeezing him as hard as I
could, but he didn’t move away or cry out or tell me to stop.

He was so close to me that I could feel his
shoulder pressing against mine, could feel his body heat through his shirt,
could smell his cologne, and that, mingled with the anticipation of what was
going to happen between us, swirled together into a heady, intense mix that was
strong enough to block out any anxiety I felt about the takeoff.

 
Finally,
the jet leveled off in the air, and I let out the breath I was holding and
loosened my grip on Callum’s hand.

My stomach unclenched.

“See?” Callum said, pulling his hand out of
mine and flexing his fingers.
 
“I’m
bulletproof.”
 
He glanced over at
me.
 
“Feel better?”

“Yes.”
 
I swallowed.

“Good.” Then without warning, he leaned closer
and brushed his lips against my collarbone before moving them to the hollow of
my throat.
 
His hand moved to my hip
and he unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled it off me.
 
He slid his hand around my back, inching
it up under my shirt and rubbing the base of my spine with his thumb.
 
“All I want to do is make you feel good,
Adriana.”

I loved the way he said my name, sexy and
sultry, not like when he was calling me Lemon.
  
When he called me Lemon, it was
like he was teasing me, testing me.
 
When he said Adriana, it sounded like a sexy promise, like he was a man
who was going to teach me things I’d only ever dreamed of.

“I want to feel good,” I said, before I
realized it was a ridiculous thing to say.
 
I blushed.
 
I hated
this!
 
He was so good-looking, so
sexy, just the way he talked, the things he said… I had no idea what I was
doing.

“You’re blushing again.”
 
I opened my mouth to protest, but Callum
put a finger to my lips.
 
“I like
it,” he said, and kissed my lips softly.
 
“I like to know that I’m effecting you.”

“You
are
effecting me,” I admitted, breathless.

“How?” He kissed me again, just a tiny bit
harder this time, sucking softly on my bottom lip for half a beat as he pulled
away.
 

“You just are.”
 
My blush deepened.

“Are you comfortable talking about your
desires, Adriana?”

“I don’t know.”
 
His hand moved from the small of my back
to the front of my jeans, where he undid the button and slid the zipper down
slowly.
 
My heart raced and my pulse
quickened.

He pushed the sides of my jeans open and then dipped
his finger down over my panties, pushing the sheer fabric aside and pressing
against my slit before he gently spread my folds.
 
He ran his finger over my clit, and I
felt myself get wet.

“You’re wet, Lemon,” he said, back in teasing
mode, the blue of his eyes lightening with mischief.
  
“Do you like me touching you like
this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like you touching me like this.”

“Where?”

I looked away from him, embarrassed.
 
Did he really want me to say the
words?
 
I wasn’t sure I could say
something like out loud. “I like you touching me between my legs.”

“Like this?” he asked softly, the tip of his
finger dipping into my pussy, his thumb and middle finger keeping me spread
open just slightly.

“Yes,” I moaned.

“And this?” He entered me a tiny bit further.

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet you taste so good, Lemon.”
 
His lips moved against mine again, this
time his tongue darting into my mouth briefly before he took it away, giving me
just a taste of what was to come.

“I can’t wait to put my mouth on your pussy,”
he said, “just like this.”
 
He
pushed his tongue into my mouth again, his kiss claiming me softly and slowly,
his tongue swirling against mine, setting the pace.
 
“I’m going to make you come harder then
you’ve ever come in your life.
 
And
then I’m going to slide my cock inside of you and fuck you like you’ve never
been fucked.”

Anticipation and longing flooded my body, the
sensation to intense I felt like it was consuming me.
 
I wanted him to take my body, to own me,
like he’d said he wanted to at the restaurant the other day.

I wanted him, right here, right now, wanted him
to take me back to that bed in the back of the plane and do all the things he’d
just said to me, plus whatever else he wanted --- spankings, whippings,
handcuffs, ropes.
 
Whatever it was
he wanted, I would agree to it.
 
He
was driving me crazy, so crazy I felt like I was losing my mind.

But instead of doing that, he pulled his hand
from between my legs and his mouth from mine.

“But not yet,” he said.
 

I had to literally bite back a scream of
frustration, that’s how badly I wanted him.
 
I couldn’t wait.
 
I didn’t want to wait.
 
I wanted him now, more than I’d wanted
anyone, ever in my life.
 
I hadn’t
known I could feel desire so strong, and he’d hardly even touched me.
 
The thought was exciting and disturbing,
terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

“You should try to sleep,” Callum said.
 
He reached inside his briefcase and
pulled out a copy of the Wall Street Journal and began opening it.
 
“We have a long night ahead of us.
 
You’ll need your strength.”

“Strength?” I asked.
 
“Why will I need strength?”

“Because,” he said simply.
 
“The things I’m going to do to you will require a certain level of
physicality, and it will serve you well to be well-rested.”

He kissed me on my head and then turned back to
his newspaper, leaving me sitting there, my mind and heart reeling.

***

When we touched down in Tampa, I’d gotten a bit
of a hold on myself.
 
My head was
still spinning from the things he’d said and the anticipation of what was to
come, but my heart had stopped its erratic rhythm and my stomach had slowed the
pace of its gymnastics routine.

Callum ushered me into a waiting town car once
we’d disembarked the plane.
 
He was
quiet during the car ride, spending most of the time staring out the
window.
 
I glanced over at him a few
times.
  
His jaw was set in a
hard line, his head slightly bowed.
 
It felt like he was working something out in his mind.

Was he thinking about me?
 
I wondered.
About what
he was going to do to me later?

He caught me looking at him and reached out and
took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine.

My heart leapt, and I had to force it to stay
quiet.

So what if he was holding my hand?
 
He’d told me that under no circumstances
should I think this trip meant anything more than it did – one night.
 
That was all.
 
Just sex.
 

Ten minutes later, the car turned into a long
winding cobblestone driveway in front of a house that made me gasp out
loud.
 
The exterior was a burnt
orange color, with a fountain in front that spouted water from two different
directions.
 
Tall columns flanked
the double door entrance, and palm trees and gorgeous plants with magenta
flowers made up the landscaping.
 

Two cars were parked in front, both of them
black, both of them shiny and expensive-looking.

The driver opened the door for me.
 
“Miss,” he said, and tipped his hat.

I stepped out onto the cobblestones and inhaled
the fresh Florida air.
 
The heat
from the sun danced against my arms, and the humid air infused my skin.
 
I shielded my eyes from the sun and took
in the house.
 
In the distance
behind it, I could see the sun glinting off the ocean.

“Do you like it?” Callum asked, appearing next
to me with our bags.

“I love it,” I said.
 
“How did you find it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this isn’t the kind of place that’s
listed on hotels.com,” I said.
 
“Is
there like, some secret billionaire rental website that you use?”

The side of Callum’s mouth twisted up into a
grin, like he found me amusing and naïve all at the same time.
 
“This is my house, Lemon,” he said as he
began walking toward the front door.
 

“You own it?” I asked, struggling again to keep
up with his long strides.

“Yes.”
 
He produced a key from his pocket and inserted it into the front door, turned
it until it unlocked with an audible click.
 
He stepped inside and I followed him,
dimly aware of the fact that he was entering a code into an alarm system until
it disarmed with a beep.

My breath caught in my chest.

The inside of the house was even more gorgeous
than the outside.
 
Huge windows gave
sweeping views of the ocean, and the whole first floor was one open space.
 
The house was on a corner lot, almost a
bluff, and the huge windows made it feel as if
you were surrounded
by the waters of the gulf
.

Tasteful and contemporary furniture dotted the
open concept living room, a sectional and arm chairs, a gleaming glass coffee
table with an abstract aqua blue sculpture sitting in the middle of it, a
leather ottoman stacked with books and magazines.

To the left of the main sitting area was a
chef’s kitchen, complete with a fancy-looking wine cooler, marble countertops,
a double oven and a huge island with an eight-burner grill.