Black Obsidian (Obsidian 1)

The desire left my body as I held her, understanding just how small she really was. With skin softer than silk and eyes brighter than the stars, she wasn’t just some woman I was about to sleep with. In a strange way, she was something more. I felt like I was hugging a friend.

My closest friend.

18

Calloway

The following two days were torture.

They passed like quicksand, shifting inside the hourglass but never making any true progress. The seconds passed, but I always thought it was more than it truly was. When I glanced at the clock, only five minutes had gone by, but it felt like five hours.

My afternoon at work was uneventful. I had a few meetings, lots of paperwork, and a few events pinned to my schedule. Despite all the action, my mind kept drifting back to that heathen who was about to share my bed.

I couldn’t wait to be inside her.

When she first told me I had to wait four weeks, I almost walked away. Guys like me didn’t wait for action. It usually came to us. But I wanted this woman in a way I didn’t want anyone else, so I toughed it out.

And I was glad I did.

I’d never felt this kind of excitement in my entire life. The anticipation, the buildup, was giving me chills. The fact that this woman had the power to make me wait and still keep my attention was beyond my understanding. Whatever she had, it obsessed me. I was sharing my house with her, and it didn’t even bother me. Isabella had never even come to my house, and I was with her for a year.

Rome changed everything.

When I came home from work, the tension was thick between us. I wanted to pin her to the couch and pound into her hard, feeling my balls slap against her ass while I claimed her as mine. When we were near the kitchen table, I wanted to do the same thing, and then eat my dinner off her as well.

She was stiff around me, going out of her way not to touch me. She kept five feet between us at all times. The house felt like a greenhouse, hot and humid. We were both burning, anxious to fuck like the animals we were.

Whenever I brushed her shoulder, she quickly moved away from me like she’d been zapped. Her breathing picked up, and her cheeks flushed. Her lips were slightly parted like her mouth needed my kiss.

The only thing holding me back was my promise. I gave her my word, and I always kept my word. It was the only thing that gave me any kind of value. If I couldn’t trust myself, then my woman couldn’t trust me. And if she didn’t trust me…she would never see my playroom.

I knew our first time together would be vanilla. I knew all the fucks we had after that would be vanilla too. But once the initial rush was over and she was innately comfortable around me, I would whip out the handcuffs and take them for a spin.

And I’d finally make her the submissive she was meant to be.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it was destined to happen. She didn’t have a choice. All this time, I’d been searching for the partner my body craved. I’d been biding my time and waiting for the perfect partner. While I didn’t believe in forever, I believed in monogamy.

I knew I would never allow another man to touch her.

Ever.

On the last night before the big day, we sat on opposite sides of the couch. She sipped her wine and watched the game with the blanket pulled over her thighs. She didn’t wear makeup, her clothes were unnaturally baggy, and her hair was in a messy bun.

I knew what she was doing.

She was trying to be as unattractive as possible.

But it was backfiring. I loved seeing her natural beauty. The bruises had faded away, and now her left eye sparkled just like the right one. Her hair was off the back of her neck so I could see just how slender her throat was. My hand could completely wrap around it, my fingers touching my palm. Her clothes hid her curves from view, but that didn’t change anything. I remembered exactly what was under there.

Her brawl with the low-life thief terrified me because I feared for her safety, but her resilience and strength was such a turn-on—and for a very obvious reason. If she could handle that, she could handle anything I did to her. She would be nearly impossible to break. It would be the greatest challenge of my life. The longer I didn’t break her, the more I would want her. Since she wouldn’t, I would want her all my life.

She finished her wine then placed the empty glass on the table. “I’m going to bed.”