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She closed her eyes. “I’m not something natural, Cain. I’m not even really alive.” Her heart might beat, but that didn’t change that she wasn’t alive, dead, or even undead.
“You feel alive.” He kneaded her breast. “Soft. Warm. Responsive.” He kissed his way up her neck and flicked her earlobe with his tongue. “Don’t you want to stay with me? Be with me always?”
She groaned as he slipped one finger between her folds and briefly dipped it inside her. “I really hope you don’t think you’re gonna seduce me into selling my soul.”
“I don’t want to seduce your consent out of you. I want you to agree because I’m what you want and will always want.” He put his mouth to her ear. “And you will agree. We both know it’s only a matter of time.” He jammed two fingers in her pussy.
“Fuck,” she burst out, feeling her inner walls pulse. The bastard had lured her into a warm, fuzzy, sexually frustrating place with all the gentle, lazy touches.
Releasing her breast, he effortlessly tore off her panties like they were made of freaking paper. She couldn’t lie, all that easy, casual strength was a total turn-on.
His hand delved into the back of her hair, fisted, and pulled hard, yanking her head back in one quick move. “Hiss at me all you want, I know you like it when it hurts.”
She whimpered as he slowly withdrew his fingers from her pussy. Apparently he was in the mood to screw with her head, because he kept taking her off-guard—letting her expect one thing and then snatching it away.
He suckled on her earlobe and let her hair slip from his hand. “Bend over.”
The order almost made her jolt. Totally up for being taken from behind, she did as he told her, placing her hands flat on the mattress.
He hummed. “Such a pretty sight.”
Wynter licked her lips, her body vibrating with anticipation. But . . . nothing happened. He didn’t touch her, let alone thrust deep inside her. She glanced at him over her shoulder, finding him staring at her with his arms folded. “Are you gonna put your dick in me?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
Probably?
“It’s tempting to instead jack off, come all over you while you’re bent over like this, and then maybe fuck you later.”
She might have thought he was just trying to rile her if she didn’t know from experience that he was totally capable of leaving her a sexual mess for a few hours. Such was the life of a mental sadist.
He’d make it up to her in style later—always did. But she didn’t want to come later. She wanted to come now.
Wynter flexed her fingers, scratching the bedsheet. Begging would have no effect on him. Threats would be just as useless. Bartering wouldn’t work either. And pouring the submission on thick would be equally ineffective. There was no way to “play” Cain. When he was in charge, he was in charge. Which was pretty much always.
“I know what you’d prefer I do, but the thing is”—he skimmed his knuckles between her slick folds—“if I take you now, it’s going to get intense.”
For Cain, “intense” didn’t mean “rough.” It meant he’d drive her nuts—usually via orgasm denial, far too much teasing, and taking his sweet time.
“Think you can handle it, or would you rather I jacked off all over you to take the edge off?”
She licked her lips. “I can handle it.”
“Good girl.” He splayed his hands on her thighs and smoothed them up and over her ass. “Quick warning, you’re going to be a mess when I’m done. I’m going to fuck with your head, body, and soul. And I won’t stop until your throat is sore from screaming.”
Little electric sparks of pleasure skipped along her soul, snapping and popping. Wynter cried out. Her muscles jumped. Her skin prickled. Every little hair on her body rose.
“I want to take up every corner of your mind,” he said, swiping the head of his cock between her folds. “Until every thought that flows through it belongs to me.” He lodged the broad tip in her pussy, pushed an inch inside her . . . but then he withdrew.
Motherfucker.
An outpouring of decadent pleasure burbled over her soul like water in a brook just as his body enfolded hers. Gentle fingers softly circled her nipples, never quite touching them. The taut buds tightened to the point of pain. Her breasts felt swollen and achy and, God, why wouldn’t he just fucking squeeze them or something?
A cold, tingly wave rolled along her soul. Wynter gasped. Jesus, she hadn’t expected the cold. Hadn’t thought—
He slammed his cock home, throwing her into an orgasm that wracked her body and dragged a scream out of her.
Oh, apparently there wouldn’t be orgasm denial tonight. Awesome.
