Unfortunately, what's gorgeous on the surface is sometimes just a carefully constructed cover to conceal rot and decay and a void where humanity should be. I haven't quite figured Cal out yet, but I don't think he fits neatly into any of the categories. He's not rotten or putrid, but heisbroken... damaged, like me.
When I exit the room to find him in his suit, knotting his tie, I hate the complicated swirl of feelings that plague me. He's fucking breathtaking, with a face that can go effortlessly from kind and unassuming to ravenous and desperate. I watched him do it a while ago when we'd had dinner, when I asked him to fuck me like he hated me, and he came through. I wore his bruises like a collar for a week, but we were in the comfort of his home the whole time. Now, I'm about to venture into public for the first time in months, and my anxiety about it is threatening to drown me.
“Fuck.” He mutters, his voice deep and hoarse, full of desire. “You look like a dream.”
I smile in spite of myself, unable to feel terrified when he's looking at me like he's going to tear this dress off me and fuck me until I can't walk.
“You look pretty dashing yourself.”
“We could cancel…” He says thoughtfully, his eyes dipping to take in the dress that plunges between my breasts. “Stay home, naked…”
“You don't like the dress?” I tease. “You bought it.”
“I love the dress.” He says, drawing closer to me with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “But I love you more.”
My stomach twists in discomfort at the confession because I can't say it back.
“Cal…”
He cuts me off quickly. “No. We're not gonna do that. You're my fiancée. I love you, and I'm going to marry your tight ass and fuck you until the day I die.”
“Unless I leave after six months.” I tell him, reminding him of our deal.
Cal's arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me into him so that I have to tilt my head back to see his face.
“I will do everything I can to be a husband worthy of your love... your presence. I'll give you anything your heart desires, and I'll keep you safe. And in six months, if you decide to go, I'll let you go. But it won't change how I feel about you. I'll love you even after my last breath, little doll, and just because I let you go doesn't mean I won't chase you again.”
My breath hitches at the honesty, and maybe a little at the depravity of the words. The idea of leaving him just for him to hunt me down and bring me back to him should not be as romantic as it is. Would he keep me chained in the basement? Would he sedate me again so I could be his willing toy, at his constant disposal without any of my ire or concern for basic needs?
He smirks at the dumbfounded look on my face and then decides to help me fix it, leaning down to ghost a kiss over my lips. It's so faint, like he's waiting for my permission before he acts on it.
He doesn't get the chance because Dex opens the door.
“Are you ready yet? I think we're pushing past fashionably late, and if you guys fuck now, we'll never get there.”
I laugh first at the look of irritation on Cal's face and the fact that Dex is absolutely correct. If Cal gets me out of this dress tonight, we're not leaving. And I have to leave the house eventually, so it may as well be tonight.
Cal grumbles the whole way downstairs, stopping only when we draw up to the back of the town car.
Katrina smiles at me as I slide in next to her, and Dex takes her other side.
“You look good enough to eat.” She smirks.
There's a beat of silence where I wait for her to say she was just kidding, but her smirk only deepens until she licks her lips nervously, chuckling. It’s almost like she didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Yousmellgood enough to eat.” I say before I've even really thought about how stupid it sounds.
She smells like cookies or marshmallows, something fluffy and sweet and delicate. But she doesn'tlookdelicate tonight.
Tonight, her innocent pixie aura is gone, and she's channeling a vixen that I assume lives somewhere inside her. Red dress, red lips, tits pushed to the heavens. I hazard a glance toward Cal to see if he’s noticed how fuckable she looks, but his eyes are firmly on me, a little smirk ghosting on his lips.
“Should we give you some privacy?” Dex teases, making me uncomfortably aware of how fucking red I must be.
My cheeks are on fire, and my blood is hot with embarrassment and... something else.
“Fuck that.” Cal groans. “If you two are gonna make out, I wanna watch.”
Oh my God. I'mdefinitelygoing to die of embarrassment.
