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Any Means Necessary: Chapter 26

Lexie

over this room,” I say, looking at my reflection as I clasp the dainty pear-studded necklace around my neck. It’s one of the pieces Callum purchased during our shopping spree. Something about the fact that he bought it for me, just because I like it, makes it feel special. Everything I’m wearing tonight was purchased by him—from my perfume to the silk platform heels on my feet.

The suite is absolutely incredible, equally as impressive as the lobby. With rich jewel tones, Art Deco details, and gold accents. I could never afford to stay at a place like this, it’s the definition of luxury.

“I expected nothing less from the Manici family,” Callum says walking out of the primary bedroom. My eyes catch on him in the reflection and the breath stutters in my chest. Callum’s tall, broad frame looks incredible in his rich black suit. Walter is a genius, because it fits him like a damn glove. His full beard has been recently trimmed and shaped to perfection, his thick dark brown hair styled in tamed waves. Those smoldering hazel eyes meet mine as he straightens the cufflinks on his white dress shirt.

Hot damn, he’s handsome.

Even as I’m checking him out, his gaze sweeps over me in appreciation—taking in my big, loose curls, full glam makeup, and the light blue dress he had altered for me. My tits also look incredible in this dress, the off the shoulder sleeves with the open sweetheart neckline putting my chest on full display with the help of my industrial-strength strapless bra. My high-waisted shapewear underwear is currently holding me in and smoothing me out.

I’m not sure what to expect at this party for the Raven’s soft opening. Callum will be the only person I know there, and I’ll admit I’m a little apprehensive. I’m not sure whether Callum is attending this party for business or pleasure, but I’m guessing it’s a little bit of both.

Turning to face him, the air between us grows heavy with sexual tension. I can feel his desire to rip this dress right off my body as his eyes move over me—a feeling I know is reflected on my own face looking at his sexy suit. “Speaking of the Manici’s,” I say, forcing a cleansing breath. “They don’t seem like the kind of people who like to be kept waiting.”

“They’re not,” he agrees, though his tone implies he couldn’t care less. His shoulders roll back and I watch him shift into Fixer mode. “You ready?”

Back to business.

“As I’ll ever be.”

***

Just one more hour.

It’s still pretty early, but I’m ready to call it a night. I usually love a good party. But, considering the only person I know here has been actively ignoring me to work the room, I’ve resigned myself to a stool at the bar while sipping a cosmopolitan. I spent the first two and a half hours at Callum’s side, but I got tired of playing the silent observer. Not to mention my feet are killing me in these new heels. I know better than to wear them straight out of the box, but they were just too pretty to resist.

The only good part about following Callum around like a shadow was being able to listen to him talk to the Manicis when they think no one can hear them. I’ve learned a lot about Callum’s past with the mafia tonight.

Frederico Manici is the head of the syndicate here in Chicago, I heard Callum refer to him as the Don. He bought this hotel to launder money, as well as what he calls “streamline supply and demand” which I think either refers to sex work or drug distribution. Possibly both.

Callum’s worked with the Family a long time hiding their indiscretions, and he’s here to make sure the big wigs in attendance don’t try to mess with the hotel opening. Apparently the types of people who accept bribes to cut corners are also the type you can expect to get greedy when they see the opportunity.

It’s a good thing Callum knows how to tame the vultures to keep them from circling.

Matteo owns this hotel with his Father, keeping everything above board running smoothly. I’m not really sure what to make of him.

As if my thoughts conjured him, the man himself appears at the bar beside me.

“It’s not a good look for our guests to go thirsty.” Matteo indicates the emptied cosmopolitan glass in front of me. He waves to the bartender. “Let’s get the lovely lady a fresh drink.”

“Thank you.” I accept the new glass and take a sip, holding his gaze boldly. He’s not subtle when he gives me an evaluating look, scanning me from head to toe. I’m not surprised when he gives my tits a second look.

“I can’t decide what I like more, this dress or your pink scrubs.” What Matteo lacks in height, he makes up for in confidence and authority. Looking at the Rolex on his wrist and the air around him that screams untouchable, he’s someone important in Callum’s world. It makes sense if his dad is the head of the Chicago Outfit.

“The scrubs are more comfortable, but things tend to get more violent when I’m wearing them.” He smiles, flashing a row of pearly white teeth that reminds me of a shark. Something about his toothy smile says predator.

“Sounds very thoughtful to me. We wouldn’t want our pretty nurse to feel left out.” It’s my turn to laugh.

“Oh yeah, very thoughtful. I would hate for my skills to go to waste.” It’s a joke, but something I say has Matteo’s eyes roaming over me again. I feel like I’m being eyed by a wild animal, one that might snap at any moment—one wrong move and I’m dead. So I stay still, forcing my body to remain calm and relaxed.

“Something tells me you have skills I need to see in action for myself.” Matteo’s demeanor shifts, and just like that—I know we’re not talking about my medical training anymore. Our flirtation has taken a turn, and now he’s propositioning me.

Alarm bells start going off in my head, and my instinct is to recoil. But rejecting him isn’t an option here. This man isn’t someone you say no to without losing something very important to you—like a hand or someone you love.

Shit, what do I say? 

Taking a small sip of my drink, I casually glance around to give myself a second to think. Maybe someone will come to my rescue. But the only eyes I seem to catch are Callum’s, and he’s glaring at me from across the room. He looks pissed, for whatever reason, so he’ll be no help. I’m on my own here, I guess.

“Maybe someday you will,” I say vaguely. “But I’m sure a man like you is too good at what he does to need my skills.”

Matteo looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is paying attention before leaning closer. That one action tells me he’s the type of guy who fucks fat girls in private, but he’s ashamed to be seen with them in public. I don’t mess with shitty guys like that.

“Perhaps I’ll see you later for a private demonstration. I’ve always been good at handling large assets,” he says. A couple is approaching to speak with him so he flashes those pearly whites at me one last time before stepping away.

The breath of relief that leaves me once I’m alone again isn’t long lived. I feel like I just survived a close encounter with a shark, but unfortunately I don’t get the chance to finish my drink before a dominating presence is over my shoulder.

“We’re leaving,” Callum asserts, making me look up at him in confusion.

“Aren’t you working?”

“I have it handled. Let’s go.” There’s a commanding edge in his voice as he helps me down from the stool. He’s pissed, his expression thunderous as he pulls me through the crowds toward the elevator. I pretend not to notice his mood, playing it cool when he drags me by the arm into our suite. He’s lost his damn mind if he thinks he can get what he wants just by manhandling me. If he wants something from me, he can talk about it like a normal person.

I stop just inside the door that’s slammed shut and deadbolted behind us.

He’s right behind me, crowding me. His broad chest is practically pressing to my back, and I can all but feel his eyes staring a hole through the top of my head. “Can I help you?” I ask, unbothered as I look through my purse for my lip balm.

“Matteo Manici?” His deep voice is harsh, and actually quite intimidating. But not scary enough to rattle me. He can have this tantrum right now if he wants to, but that doesn’t make it my problem. “What the fuck was that?”

Finally, I find the small tube of lip balm I’m looking for, of course it was at the very bottom of my whole bag. Figures. “We were talking,” I reply calmly, leaning closer to the mirror. Swiping the balm across my lips, I blot with the pad of my finger.

“That wasn’t talking,” he states.

“I was being friendly.” I press my lips closed and rub them together.

“He’s not your friend.”

“None of these people are my friends.” I brush off his comment with a shrug.

“He wants to fuck you.”
“What does that matter?”

“He doesn’t get to have you.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because I don’t share.” His statement has me turning to face him. He’s got me cornered against the entryway table, and my chest is just a breath away from his torso. Damn my big boobs, I can’t breathe deeply without rubbing against him. He’d probably think it was an invitation—and he’d probably be right.

“I didn’t sleep with him, there’s no harm in flirting,” I say, looking up at him like my blood isn’t roaring in my ears.

“The hell there isn’t.” His deep voice is so low, I can feel it resonating in my chest. God, his voice is hot. But that doesn’t make his entitled ass any less annoying. He doesn’t get to stake his claim on me because he’s made me come a few times. Fuck that.

“I have nothing to apologize for,” I respond to his silence. “The sex is good, and it might even happen again. But that’s all it is between us. Sex.”

 I care about him, more than I ever thought I could. He’s become my rock, a steadying constant in the whirlwind my life has turned into. Callum doesn’t just watch, he pays attention. He knows what dress size I wear, he makes sure I’ve eaten, that I drink enough water. Callum sees me, he makes me a priority. He makes sure I’m catered to like no one has ever cared for me before. With him, I never feel like I’m asking too much, or that I even have to ask at all. He’s always there to give me exactly what I need the moment I realize I need it.

But he’s also a domineering, possessive ass who feels entitled to me. That same attention that makes me feel cherished turns crushing in an instant. And I refuse to give myself up to a man who can’t even tell me how he feels. A man who can’t communicate outside of brutal acts born from his jealousy. So unless there’s a drastic change in his choice of communication, my body is all he gets from me.

I take a small step to the side in an attempt to move around him, but he turns with me. His arms go to the wall on either side of my head, and his massive frame is looming over me again as he cages me in—this time even closer. His head lowers, asserting his dominance, but he doesn’t touch me. He wants me to make the first move, to submit to him—like he knows I can.

“I’ve been staring at this damn dress all night, imagining every way I can get you out of it. I get so fucking hard just looking at you.” A wave of desire washes over me at the raw hunger in his voice. I hate how attracted I am to this dark, twisted, brilliant man.

“That sounds like a personal problem,” I say, doing my best to ignore the way my heart is racing and the heat is pooling between my thighs. And failing miserably.

You are my personal problem, Dewdrop. One I know exactly how to fix.” Breathing in his cologne is like inhaling pheromones that cloud my mind until I’m dizzy. Something shifts between us as our eyes lock, and I know what’s going to happen next. My chin lifts as I lean in, and the man pounces like a predator taking his prey.

His lips on mine are angry and heated, demanding everything from me as his hands yank my body against his. The fabric of my dress loosens as the zipper is lowered roughly. His pent up frustration is being inflicted on me with every rough press of his fingers and nip of his teeth, and my body responds eagerly to all of it. With each article of clothing being taken off me, I’m pulling away the fabric covering him until there’s nothing left between us. Our movements are frantic and desperate, trailing clothing across the front room.

We don’t make it to the bedroom, Callum’s too impatient. His erection presses against my stomach, hot, heady, and hungry for me. Our lips are pulled apart when Callum pushes me down onto the couch. The condom wrapper he pulls from the pocket of his discarded pants is hastily ripped open by his teeth, his eyes never leaving me for a second as the latex is being rolled down the length of his impressive cock. He lowers to join me, kneeling with one knee on the couch between my legs, the other stabilized on the floor. The potent desire on his face is really fucking hot; handsome and ruthless.

His large hands grip my hips, pulling my open legs around his waist to line himself up at my entrance. The first stroke is deep and hard, stealing my breath as we moan together. Then he pulls out and pushes back in, building a punishing pace. His piercing eyes drill into me as intensely as his big, hard cock.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Dewdrop? Do you?” he demands, an edge in his voice that’s punctuated with the rough pounding of his hips.

“Callum,” I moan loudly at the feeling of him filling me, stretching me so completely.

“You’ve gotten so deep under my skin I will never get enough. You’ve fucking branded me. Every second of every day, it’s you. Your wit, your laugh, how fucking good you smell. I can’t have a single thought without you being right there in the center of it. It’s maddening.”

“Cal—” His name is ripped from me with a gasp. His pelvis rubs my clit roughly with each powerful thrust, sending sharp bolts of pleasure racing through me. His beard scrapes over my skin as his lips move across my throat, shoulders, breasts. He nips, licks, and sucks, marking my fair skin—branding me.

“You drive me crazy,” he rasps. “With this smart mouth of yours, this gorgeous body, and that addicting smile.”

“Oh, shit.” He’s railing me so deeply, it’s all I can do to ride it out and let him take me.

“Everytime you defy me, all I can think about is fucking the attitude right out of you. Just like this.” He hooks his arms under my thighs and lifts my hips to push in deeper, making me cry in pleasure. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“No. I’m not.” I shake my head, biting my lip against the sensations rippling through me.

“Say it, Lexie.”

“No,” I insist. “Oh fuck. Right there.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you come. Maybe that will be your punishment.”

“No, Cal. Please. Please, I need it.”

“I know what you need, Dewdrop,” he growls. “And you’re going to give me what I want.”

“I’m not apologizing—” My back bows beneath him as his angle changes and he strokes something so deep inside me that my lungs malfunction. He drills into me, relentlessly, his hard panes hitting my soft flesh over and over again as I’m dragged into delirium.

“Come,” he demands roughly, the order opening the floodgates. The waves of bliss overwhelm me until I’m nearly drowning. I come hard and fast, eyes latched to his as I’m overtaken. Callum’s rhythm never changes from punishing, my body being pushed closer and closer to the edge of delicious agony as another climax builds inside me. “I want four more.”

“What?” My eyes widen, back arching when he lifts one of my breast to roughly suck my nipple.

“Orgasms. You’re going to come for me four more times.” It’s a demand, not a request. A moan falls from me as his other hand moves to circle my clit. His thumb strokes smooth, slow circles, the sensation in total contrast to how harshly his cock is slamming into me with each demanding stroke. Callum is everywhere, the stimulation is almost too much. I’m already on the crest, we both feel it. “But not until I say so.”

“I—” I pant, my eyes closing as my head falls back against the couch. “I’m so close.”

“Eyes on me.” His order rumbles against my chest, and I obey. My eyes open to look at him, his gaze locking possessively with mine. His body is so powerful, I’m being taken so completely there’s nothing I can do but hold on for dear life. “Say my name when you come for me.”

And I do. Callum’s name tumbles from my mouth over and over as I shatter into a million pieces, my pussy squeezing his cock as he pistons in and out. He doesn’t slow, even as the sweat begins to drip from his forehead. His eyes hold me there and he curses under his breath.

“You’re fucking perfection. Every inch of you,” he growls, jaw clenched. I’m not even put back together after my last orgasm before Callum’s body is demanding another one from me. “Look at how good you take every inch of me. My beautiful, dirty girl.”

My eyes break from his to look down at my lifted hips to where he enters me, his big, hard, cock pulling in and out vigorously. The sight of how fully and deeply he’s filling me almost makes me come again on the spot. I’ve never seen anything so erotic. I gasp, the sensations overtaking me. “Fuck, Callum. You’re so big.”

 He is so big; his body, his presence, his authority. He’s overwhelming and all consuming, since the moment he entered my life. Callum’s there—in my mind, inside me—demanding things from me I never knew I could give. Things I never realized I want, things I need. He thinks I’ve invaded his life, but he’s completely conquered mine.

“I’m coming. Please.” I don’t want to hold this orgasm back, I can’t.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Callum leans down to nip at my jaw, his facial hair scraping against my sensitive skin. “Kiss me when you come all over my cock.”

The climax rolls through my body, every nerve ending firing at once. Callum’s lips capture mine, swallowing my moans as his mouth explores. My hands claw against his back, wanting him closer, deeper. His breathing changes, becoming more feral and ragged. He’s trying to hold back, but I know he’s close. And I want him to finish inside me, want to bring him over the edge. I need to make him lose control, knowing I’m the one doing it to him. That it’s me who’s unraveling him, overwhelming him. I tighten my inner muscles to squeeze him as he moves inside me, and he grunts wildly, his eyes snapping to mine.

“We’re not done yet, Dewdrop. You owe me two more.”

“I can’t, I need you.” I’m breathless. I scrape my nails up his neck into his hair, squeezing him again. A fierceness flashes in his eyes as something snaps inside him. His control dissolves right before my eyes, the restraint falling away to reveal the passionate beast inside. A thrill runs through me at the primal expression on his handsome face, elated with the knowledge that I put it there. That I’m his undoing.

Callum’s rhythm changes, growing desperate. He’s not driving, now he’s chasing something. Chasing his own release. “Fuck, you have no idea how incredible you feel,” he mutters, and I can only moan in response. His hands are everywhere, ravaging and worshiping. The light inside me is building again. “No. Fucking. Idea.”

Callum’s release hits him like a freight train, ripping a groan from deep inside his chest. The muscles of his powerful body ripple with the force of his climax, his arms shaking above me. Looking into his eyes as he falls apart with my name on his lips sends me over the edge. I shout his name, the light exploding inside me until I’m blinded.

My chest heaves as I gasp for breath, Callum’s breathing as erratic as mine. Lowering his head, his lips taste the skin of my throat as I bask in the glow of satiated bliss. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer as he pulls out of me, his lips never leaving my skin.

“Mmm,” I hum.

“Did I mention you always smell so fucking good?” he asks, his facial hair scraping with each press of his lips.

“It’s all that ‘shit’ in my bathroom that seems to bother you so much.” I tilt my head to give him better access. “Body washes, lotions, and perfumes.” He pulls away to look down at me.

“I’ll have to remember that.” Callum’s arms harden around my waist and he’s flipping us over so he’s laying on the couch and I’m draped across him. My breath hitches.

“Take it easy, I’m already sore,” I admonish. It’s not a lie, there’s already a dull ache settling over my body with the sated exhaustion. The tenderness growing between my thighs is definitely going to make sitting difficult tomorrow, and the next day.

“Good.” Gentle fingers brush sweaty hair from my forehead. “I want you to feel me for the rest of the week,” he murmurs. My hand starts wandering over his chest, tracing the indents of his muscled torso. He feels so solid beneath me, his large arms enveloping me completely.

“After that, I’m going to feel you for the rest of my life.” It’s meant to be a one-liner, but there’s a moment of silence as the joke misses its mark and settles like a pandora’s box between us. Neither of us are brave enough to venture a look inside, opting to ignore it instead.

“You owe me another orgasm.”

“Not right now, I need a nap,” I yawn. His laugh rolls over me, vibrating in his chest against my cheek. His hand runs through my hair in lazy strokes.

“Don’t think I’ll forget, Dewdrop. I won’t.”

“Don’t think that wearing me out like this means you’re the boss of me,” I counter. This time his laugh is different, deeper—the way an adult laughs when they’re dealing with a child. Like I’m simply in denial of the truth.

Maybe I am.

We lay in silence, just enjoying each other’s company for a while—dozing in and out as we recover in our satisfied state—until I hear my phone chime with a calendar reminder. It’s time to get up. Shifting against him, strong arms tighten to halt my movement.

“Where are you going?” he asks deeply, pulling me back down as if laying on top of him is where I belong. I lift up to look at him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“To put my clothes back on,” I say, gently brushing a lock of hair back from his forehead. Callum’s gaze tracks me like a heat seeking missile.

“That’s a waste of time. I’ll just have to rip off anything you put on.” I can’t help my laugh, even though I know he’s serious. His hands roam across my skin, caressing and massaging every inch he can get his greedy hands on.

“Oh really,” I counter. “Sounds a little counterproductive since we’re supposed to start packing. Our plane leaves early tomorrow.”

“The plane leaves when I say.” His tone is final, not in any hurry to let me climb off of him. His body is substantial and firm beneath me, it’s actually really nice. I’m a little surprised he doesn’t feel crushed by my weight on top of him, especially after getting all hot and sweaty. My hair definitely needs a good scrub after being so properly and thoroughly fucked.

“It’s your schedule,” I concede without a fight this time, letting him pull me back down to capture my lips. His mouth moves against mine passionately, our tongues dancing together.

“But if you ever ruin a bra by ripping it off, I’ll have to kill you.” I mean it. “Good bras are hard to find in my size, and they don’t come cheap.”

“I’ll buy you a million bras, as long as I get to see you in them. I’ll unwrap you like a present.” He trails a hand up my side to palm my breast. His mouth turns possessive against mine as he gives my flesh a rough squeeze, eliciting a soft moan from me.

“I can’t argue with that.”


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