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CALLIE
Holy fuck.
It’s by far the dirtiest thing anyone’s ever said to me. But it’s also the most sinfullyhotthing anyone’s ever said to me, too. And the fact that it’s Castle saying it makes me want to hear it in a loop on repeat. I want to listen to him growling it into my ear over and over until the words and his tone alone send me gasping over the precipice.
I whimper as his hand slides into the back of my hair, his fingers threading through my locks before pulling them tight into a fist.
“You asked, baby girl,” he growls thickly. “So let me show you what the fuck I want. You want to play the bad girl?” Castle’s eyes lock with mine. “Get on your fucking knees and show me how just bad you can be.”
It’s embarrassing how fast I drop to my knees in front of him. My pulse is thudding as I look up at him. His chiseled jaw grinds, and I drink in the raw power and heat in his stormy blue eyes. He reaches for his belt, undoing it as my heart races like crazy and a throbbing pressure builds in my core.
“Take off your top.”
I’m tingling everywhere, and my hands tremble as I reach down to grab the bottom of my hoodie. I pull it off, revealing that I’m not wearing a bra underneath it. Castle’s gaze drops to my bare breasts, and when I realize his pants are already bulging obscenely at the zipper, I shiver with heat.
I did that.
That’s because of me.
It’s a powerful feeling.
Castle’s hands drop to his pants, popping the button and deftly pulling down the zipper. His hand slips inside as my heart climbs into my throat.
And then suddenly, he’s pulling out his cock and letting it throb and hang heavily in the air between us.
Sweet. Merciful. Christ.
He’s fuckinghuge. I mean the man is six and a half feet tall and built like a professional athlete, but holyfuck. Even onCastle, it looks big.
And swollen. And hard. And as thick around as my freaking wrist.
Above me, Castle smirks darkly.
“Still want to play the bad girl with me?”
I gulp as my eyes lift from his huge cock to the vicious, lethal look in his eyes.
I nod as my face heats.
“Hands behind your back,” he growls quietly.
I do as he says, my fingers nervously twisting together.
“Open your mouth, baby girl.”
My lips part, my jaw opening wide as his hand slides into my hair. He tangles it in his fist, pulling my head toward him as my pulse roars and heat pools between my thighs.
It occurs to me suddenly that I’ve never really labeled myself as anything sexually, because I’ve neverexploredanything sexually. At least not with anyone but myself. But now, here on my knees on the floor, eagerly and obediently opening my mouth for his cock with my hands behind my back, I realize I suddenly know exactly what I am.
A submissive.
Or at least, with Castle I am. Because I’m not just doing this because I, pathetically, want him to “like me”. I’m not doing what he asks so he “notices me.”
I’m doing this because it’s unbelievably fucking hot. Because the way the usually calm and even somewhat charming Castle is growling filthy orders to me, telling me to “get on my fucking knees” for him, makes me want to touch myself until I come screaming his name.
I tremble as my lips hover an inch away from his throbbing, hard, swollen cock head. Our eyes lock.
“Like this?” I purr sensually as I open my mouth even wider and stick out my tongue like I’m getting ready to lick the most delicious ice cream cone in the known world.
