I'm close now, pressure building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight. I picture Wren's flat stomach, imagine it swelling with my seed. My child growing inside her, the ultimate mark of ownership. Proof to the world that she belongs to me.
"Gonna fill you up," I mutter to the phantom Wren in my mind as my strokes grow erratic. "Pump you full until you're dripping with me, until you're swollen with my baby."
The thought of it—Wren pregnant, glowing, utterly dependent on me—sends me over the edge. I come with a shuddering groan, shooting hot and thick against the shower wall, my cock pulsing in my grip as I milk every last drop.
As the water washes away the evidence, my resolve hardens. This isn't just lust. It's something deeper, darker, more primal.I don't just want to fuck Wren Calloway. I want to possess her. Consume her. Make her mine in every possible way.
And that’s just what I’m going to do.
six
. . .
Calvin
Sleep is a fucking joke.I've been up since 4 AM, pacing my apartment like a caged animal, knowing she's just down the hall. So close. Mine for the taking. I've built my empire on control—perfect, ruthless control—but Wren Calloway has me unraveling at the seams. Last night's release did nothing but take the edge off. If anything, jerking off to thoughts of her has only made me hungrier. I need to claim her. Now. No more games. No more pretending this is anything other than what it is—obsession in its purest form.
The storm has passed, leaving behind a raw, pink dawn that bleeds through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse. I've showered, dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Business casual for the most important negotiation of my life.
I hear movement from the kitchen. Soft, hesitant.
When I round the corner, she's there, still swimming in my clothes, hair sleep-mussed and falling around her shoulders. She's at the coffee maker, studying it with adorable confusion, biting her lower lip in concentration.
She hasn't noticed me yet. I take a moment just to watch her, to let the sight of her in my space sink into my bones. This feeling—this desperate, clawing need—it's foreign to me. Dangerous. I've never wanted anything I couldn't walk away from. Until now.
"It's the silver button on the right," I say, and she startles, spinning to face me with wide eyes.
"I didn't hear you," she breathes, one hand pressed to her chest. "I was just trying to—I hope it's okay that I?—"
I cross the kitchen in four long strides. She backs up instinctively until she hits the island, nowhere left to go. I cage her in, one arm on either side of her, my body close enough to feel the heat of hers without actually touching.
"It's all okay," I tell her, my voice rougher than I intend. "Everything in this apartment is yours to use. Everything I own is yours to use."
Confusion flickers across her face. "That's—that's very generous, but?—"
"I need to tell you something, Wren." I lean closer, breathe her in. She no longer smells of cheap shampoo. Instead, she smell of designer brands befitting her and something uniquely her. Something I'm already addicted to. "And I need you to listen without interrupting."
Her throat works as she swallows, but she nods.
"I've been watching you for months." The confession falls from my lips like a stone. "Not just since the gala. Since before that. I saw you at The Oasis Lounge three months ago when I was there for a business dinner. You were serving the table next to mine. You smiled at a child who was making a mess, instead of getting annoyed like most servers would."
Her eyes widen further, pupils dilating.
"I asked about you. Found out your name, where else you worked. When I heard you'd be serving at the charity gala, Imade sure I was there. Made sure I was in your section." I let my eyes roam over her face, taking in every micro-expression. "The champagne spill wasn't an accident. Not on my part. I deliberately moved into your path."
"Why?" she whispers, breaking my no-interruption rule, but I'm too far gone to care.
"Because I had to meet you. Had to hear your voice. Had to know if you felt it too." I bring one hand up to cup her face, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "This connection. This pull."
She doesn't pull away. Doesn't look disgusted or frightened. If anything, her pupils dilate further, her lips parting on a small exhale.
"I've rearranged my entire schedule for you. Cleared meetings, postponed deals. I bought The Oasis Lounge yesterday morning. I own the coffee shop where you work, too."
Now there's shock, her mouth falling open. "You... what?"
"I told you I'd take care of you. This is how I take care of what's mine." I press closer, the heat of her body seeping into mine. "And you are mine, Wren. Have been since the moment I saw you. You just don't know it yet."
Her breath comes faster now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I can see the pulse hammering in her throat, the flush spreading across her cheeks.
