Black Obsidian (Obsidian 1) - Page 14

5

Calloway

I jerked off twice when I got home.

Ever since I laid eyes on this woman, I’d jerked off five times. And I never jerked off. I preferred the real thing rather than my imagination and a slick hand. I wanted her tight pussy around my cock—along with her ass and mouth.

I wanted all of her—right this very moment.

Just watching her walk turned me on. She held herself like a queen, her head high and her shoulders back. It didn’t matter how tall her heels were. She could still strut across the floor like her feet were bare.

When I first met Christopher, I feared the worst—that she had a man. When I saw them together, I seriously considered killing him. Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve her. He wasn’t man enough to handle a woman like that—only I was. Fortunately, Christopher was a sibling in her eyes—no threat whatsoever.

I stayed at my table because I wanted to observe her. When we spoke, I detected the arousal in her eyes. Her chest and neck were flushed pink, and her pretty lips were moist from constantly licking them. She hid her desire better than most women, but I could see it if I looked hard enough.

So I left the ball in her court.

And like I hoped, she came to me. Once she saw Patricia making her way toward me, she stepped up and intervened. She sank into the chair I’d been holding for her and claimed a stake.

She wanted me.

Thank fucking god.

Because if she didn’t, I was going to make her mine anyway.

I put all my cards on the table and told her what I wanted—her. And when I took her home, I really thought I was going to sink into her and come deep inside her. When she said otherwise, I was surprised I wasn’t irritated. I accepted her dismissal when I could have seduced her until I got what I wanted. She was attracted to me and clearly wanted me, but that wasn’t a road I wanted to take. I wanted her to want me, to beg me, before I finally had her. I respected her too much to take something that wasn’t freely given.

Which wasn’t like me at all.

I kept picturing her tied up in my safe room, her wrists chained to her ankles with her ass in the air. I pictured my big cock sinking into that tiny puckered hole and making us both come at the same time. I wanted to gag her pretty mouth so she would have to scream louder to be heard. I wanted to slap her ass as hard as she’d slapped me. I wanted to break her until there was nothing left.

But that would take time.

I wasn’t sure if that was a lifestyle she participated in because I couldn’t find any information about her. Judging by her ruthless confidence, I had a feeling it was something she’d never experimented with before. But she did have the courage to explore new territory, so there was hope. Maybe she would agree to be my submissive after she got to know me. I wouldn’t be the only one getting pleasure out of it. She would get even more.

I waited a few days before I contacted her because some restraint was necessary. If I rushed her too quickly, it would chase her away. It was okay to tell her I wanted her, but if I showed her just how truly obsessed I was, it would turn her off.

It would terrify any woman.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when I walked into her office on 10th. It was a small building with two stories. The top was a psychic palm reader, and on the bottom was her nonprofit organization For All. A small sign was next to the door. Something about the quaint space was innately charming—unlike her apartment. That place was a dump, and it took all my strength not to buy her a condo right then and there.

I walked inside. The place was about five hundred square feet with a small waiting area, a bathroom, and a large white desk against the window. A vase of fresh flowers sat on the corner, a white MacBook was in the center, and a stack of stationery was on the opposite corner.

Her voice sounded from the break room. “Oh my god, Tay. This guy is from another planet. He’s so gorgeous I actually want to throw up.”

I grinned when I realized she was gossiping about me to her girlfriend. I took a seat in front of her desk and rested my ankle on the opposite knee. I’d stopped by my office at Humanitarians United to do a few things that morning, so I was dressed down in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I relaxed and listened to the rest of their conversation.

Tags: Victoria Quinn Obsidian Billionaire Romance
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