Page 8 of Callum

“I didn’t say you could manhandle me, Doc.”

His only response is a low laugh, and I nearly miss it over my heartbeat pounding through my ears. He settles behind me, and I realize he’s looking at me. At all of me. Fuck, why is that hot?

“Are you thinking about me fucking you, kitten? Is that why your pussy is clenching so pretty for me?”

“Who said anything about you?” Crack. Callum’s hand lands hard against my ass, a perfect mirror to the hit on my other cheek. Tears spring to my eyes even as pleasure rolls through my body.

“You don’t want to piss me off right now, Red.”

“Oh yeah?” I taunt, grinding my hips against the air between us. “What’ll happen if I do?”

A dark laugh rumbles through Callum’s chest, pressing against my back as he leans over to whisper directly into my ear. “I won’t let you come.”

Two: Bleeding for Me

ROSALIND

Callum’s hand cracks against my ass again, and I press into the heel of his palm on instinct.

“Always so fucking needy,” he sighs, scraping his fingers against the stinging flesh. “Stoplight system, Red. If you need to stop, tell me.”

“Such a gentleman,” I huff, rolling my eyes. I’m not ready for his fingers to press into my ass, but at least two of them are suddenly filling me. The lack of warning locks up my muscles, and I scream in pain.

“Do you want me to stop, kitten?”

Fuck no. “N-no.”

“Then give me a fucking color.”

“Green.” My voice shakes, and I hear him laugh in response.

“Good girl,” he presses in again, and I have to hold back another scream as the pain and pleasure race up my spine. Fuck. We always toed the line of pain before, but never like this. Callum always wanted me to feel good, and the idea of hurting me to get there was never high on his list.

It appears that has changed.

“Did you know a person can lose fourteen percent of their blood volume before it causes permanent damage to their organs?” He continues the slow drag of his fingers in and out of my ass as he speaks, and I have to force myself to focus on his words as the biting fullness gives way to the comforting buzz of pleasure. “Rosalind.”

Callum’s hand cracks against my ass, fully drawing my attention to his question. “No,” I breathe, my hips rocking against his hand. He takes that as a cue to add another finger, the stretch making my eyes roll back.

“A person can live up to four minutes without oxygen,” He leans forward, wrapping his left hand around my throat and squeezing for a moment before he moves again. When his hand pulls away, he runs it down the length of my arm, stopping to press into each cut left in my skin by the glass still littering the ground around me. “I’d like to test that.”

I’m so busy staring at the way his fingers dance through my blood that I miss the feeling of him shifting behind me. The complete loss of his fingers in my ass makes me gasp, my knees spreading apart until my hips touch the ground without him holding them in the air. I whip my head around to glare daggers at Callum. “What are you—”

“What’s wrong, kitten? Is there something you need?”

Oh, this mother fucker.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Callum, there’s something I need.”

“What is it, kitten?”

I need you to see me when you look at me. I need you to fuck me like I’m yours again. I need you to know that I tried. “Fuck me.”

“Hmmm,” his brow furrows, but I watch his hands move to the button on his jeans. “Do you think you deserve to get fucked, kitten?”

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