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“Like thrusting into a tight fist of liquid fire.” He began to fuck her slow and hard, forcing her to really feel every inch. Each sluggish sink and retreat caused her clit to rub against the mattress—the sensation always went straight to her core, making her inner muscles spasm each time.
The bastard knew that “slow” only frustrated her. Just the same, he knew his present angle stopped him from going too deep—also frustrating her. And he was well aware that the breath-like, ultra-soft waves he kept delivering to her soul only drove her nuts. As if all that wasn’t bad enough, he repeatedly brushed his thumb over the brand on her palm, giving her the sensations of her folds being stroked, her slit being swiped, the entrance of her pussy being circled, and her clit being rolled and flicked.
She writhed. She moaned. She bucked. She whimpered. She cursed him to hell and back.
Wynter reached her arm back and grabbed his hair, deliberately scraping his scalp with her nails. Cain growled, his cock throbbing inside her. Then he slipped an arm under her, pulled her onto her knees, and brought his hand down hard on her ass. She hissed, ready to verbally chew a chunk out of him, but then his dick plunged even deeper into her pussy, stealing her words and sending her thoughts scattering.
His cock so hard it hurt, Cain used his weight to keep her upper body pressed to the mattress as he pounded in and out of her. “That’s it, fucking take it.”
Cain lost himself in her. He needed that to go both ways. Needed her to lose herself in him. So he all-out let loose on her.
Every punch of his hips jolted her body. Every slam of his cock was unapologetically brutal. Every touch to her soul was now dark and rough, bombarding her with sensation after sensation—ice-cold slaps, hot whips, electric ripples, static currents.
She was soon a mess beneath him—her control gone, her reserves forgotten, her nails scrabbling at the pillow and bedsheet as if she desperately sought an anchor.
“Yes, that’s how I want you,” he said. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.”
Which is “love,” in case you’re interested.
Cain closed his eyes at her earlier words, his gut clenching. He fucked her harder and faster, his grip on her hips bruising, his release almost upon him.
Sensing that her own orgasm was fast approaching, he splayed his hand over her nape as he snarled into her ear, “I get to come first. Then you.”
She moaned but didn’t object.
His balls tightened. His cock swelled. Her pussy superheated around his shaft.
Cain’s release hit him like a crack of lightning, tearing through his system and jetting bursts of come out of his dick and into her pussy. “Now you,” he said, sending a surge of pure unadulterated pleasure/pain pouring over her soul like a tidal wave.
She fractured beneath him with a silent scream, her inner muscles clamping down on his cock with a bitingly tight grip.
As aftershocks settled in, he rolled them onto their sides, keeping their bodies connected, and pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder. When his mind cleared enough for him to speak, he said, “I don’t remember what love feels like. I loved my mother and Seth when I was young, but that emotion . . . it slipped away from me somehow as I aged. It has eluded me ever since. I truly don’t remember how it feels to love someone.”
“I think it’s subjective, I think people can feel it differently, depending on certain things.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes all warm and languid. “I don’t need you to tell me you love me. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel something you haven’t experienced in a long time and, due to your experiences—because let’s face it, they’re probably to blame for you shutting down in so many ways—might never experience again.”
“What do you need?”
“Probably the same things you’d say you need from me. Loyalty. Trust. Respect. Total commitment. What? What’s funny?”
He couldn’t wipe the amused smile from his face. “What I want from you is nowhere near as reasonable. Oh sure, I want all those things you just listed. But I want more. I want you utterly addicted to me. I want you to be as obsessed with me as I am with you. I want to be the only thing you need.” He scraped his teeth over the crook of her neck. “I want to be the keeper of your soul.”
“And yet, you confessed to me just what exactly can happen to a soul you own when its body fails. You could have kept that from me. You didn’t. Why?”
“I wish I could say it was simply because I knew that it would be unfair to you. But I’m not that noble. The truth is . . . I want you to trust me to keep your soul safe, not trust only the parts of me you know.”
Her eyes lit with understanding.
“You have the whole picture now in all its dark glory. I can’t imagine that you’d be keen to hand me full rights to your soul, given who and what I am. But I won’t give up trying to get those rights from you, Wynter. I can’t. Not even if it makes me a greedy, selfish, unreasonable bastard. I meant it when I said I can’t lose you. I’ll do what it takes to guarantee that I won’t. But we’re not going to talk more about that tonight.” Purely because this was the least likely time that she’d agree to sell him her soul.
“We’re not?”
“No. We’re going to sleep. You’ve had a long, strange day. You need to rest.”
She settled her head onto the pillow with a hum. “I also need you to stop teasing the everloving shit out of me during sex. But I don’t suppose that you will, will you?”
He felt his lips twitch. “It’s highly unlikely.”
She huffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
