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And then he full-on ruined her. He overloaded her soul with so much hot, electric pleasure/pain it took her breath away. Crackling sweeps, burning lashes, lightning-fast snaps, nail-like scrapes. She took it all, let herself drown in it, sank into that mental space where she floated.
He switched his angle and began ramming his cock even deeper, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. “Feel me,” he snarled. “Feel me all the way down to your soul. It’s already mine, Wynter. I just need you to make it official.” He grunted, upping his pace. “I won’t back off until you do.”
Another dark wave of agonizing bliss assaulted her very being. That was all it took. She imploded, soared, broke.
The orgasm all but snatched a scream from her throat as it ricocheted through her body, arching her back and making tears spring to her eyes.
He let out a muffled curse, his cock swelling and pulsing inside her. Then he exploded.
All hollowed out, Cain collapsed over her and buried his face in her neck. Every bone in his body hummed with satiation. His mind felt clear and calm and peaceful. Coming deep inside his witch always felt as much of a mental release as a sexual one.
“You know,” she began, panting, “there are times I’m glad I cursed your dick. These moments are few and far between, but they happen.”
He felt his mouth hitch up. In general, he found people fairly easy to predict. But Wynter? He could never be sure what she’d say or do next. He liked it.
He nuzzled her neck. “What brings on these moments where you’re glad?”
“Mostly? The loss of feeling I sometimes get in my gums after you make me come.” She said it as if that explained everything. Which it didn’t.
As baffled as he was amused, Cain lifted his head. “I’d say something like, ‘I see.’ But I don’t see. What do you mean?”
“I mean that I start thinking on how you must have given such monumental orgasms to other women in the past, and then I start thinking how positively homicidal I’d feel if you did it in the future. During those moments, it brings me comfort to know that if you cheated on me your dick would wither into a useless stump and I could point at you and laugh.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, making it difficult for him to adopt a serious expression. “I would never betray you, curse or no curse. You should know that.” He bit her lip hard enough to make her let out a little yelp. “That’s for even considering that I might cheat on you. As if I could possibly want anyone else anyway.”
“You’re still not mad that I cursed your cock, are you?”
“Not in the slightest. It pleases me that you’re both as extremely possessive and as cruelly vengeful as I am.” He kissed her softly and lazily, sipping from her mouth. “I never thought I could be this possessive. Or that I’d ever allow a woman to lay any kind of claim on me. And I didn’t. Until you.”
“That’s not true. You were in a relationship with Ishtar. Several times.” She sniffed, her shoulders stiffening slightly in a jealousy she tried but failed to hide.
Cain wrestled back a grin. Fuck, she was too cute when jealous. Of course, he didn’t say that aloud. He liked his balls exactly where they were.
“Not really.” He pinned her gaze with his, intent on ensuring she understood that she had no need to feel at all jealous—he never wanted her to feel anything but completely secure in what he felt for her. “I thought of them as relationships at the time. But that’s not what they were.”
Wynter nibbled on her lower lip. “No?”
“No. Now that I have you, I see that what Ishtar and I had were merely arrangements that involved exclusivity. That’s not the same as being committed to someone, body and soul. She never had that from me. Not even close.”
The rigidity slipped out of his consort’s muscles. “No man had that from me either,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “Only you.”
His chest warming, Cain kissed her again. It flat out amazed him that she gave so much of herself to him when he still had so many secrets. He really couldn’t blame her for having doubts about signing over her soul to him. Who wouldn’t, in her position? But he needed her to get past those reservations. And the bitch of it was that giving her the truths she’d asked for would encourage her to do the opposite.
*
Hearing Maxim call his name the following day, Cain halted in the middle of the bailey. Half-turning to face the approaching aide, he took in the gargoyle’s expression. There was no sense of urgency there, no tension in the line of his jaw. But there was a glint in his gaze that told Cain he just might like what he was about to hear.
Finally, Maxim reached him. “I just received news from one of Dantalion’s aides. The conduit from Aeon is back. Abel wishes to speak with you.”
Cain felt his brows inch up. “That so?” Amusement pricked at him, because he could easily guess why Abel had sent Griff back to Devil’s Cradle so soon—he’d finally realized that his children and Eve were missing, and he’d guessed that they’d sought the protection of the Ancients.
Of course, Cain had to consider that the three Aeons might be here at Adam’s insistence and that, as such, whatever tantrum Abel threw could be nothing but an act. Even so, this conversation could indeed be entertaining. Abel’s tantrums often were.
“Where is the conduit now?” Cain asked.
“The blue parlor again,” Maxim replied. “Dantalion left him there with one of his aides to keep watch.”
Cain gave him a nod of thanks and headed to the Keep. Using the mirror in his bedchamber, he took himself to the manor and was soon entering the blue parlor. He tipped his chin at Dantalion’s aide and then turned his attention to Griff. “Back again so soon?”
