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Cain moved abruptly, grabbing my wrists. The drink went flying in the air, soaking his shirt red to his body, as he propelled me across the room to the wall. He slammed me into it, and the reminder of how he’d pushed me into the wall in the labyrinth was a jolt of need to go with the sudden surge of fear.
But once he had me against the wall, his lips crashed into mine. He kissed me mercilessly, stealing every bit of air from my lungs, crushing me against the wall. His body dominated mine completely, his hands pinning mine against the wall. He ground against me, pushing me into the wall so hard it hurt–but it was a good hurt.
I smiled against his lips in the barest space between us, because Cain’s desire for me pulsed from every pore.
He pulled himself away from me just enough to yank up the hem of my dress, his hands sliding over the curve of my ass before he yanked my thigh up to wrap around his. The two of us ground together like that, his cock rubbing against me through both his jeans and the thin, damp fabric of my panties. His lips seared my skin over and over.
“I like these bruises on your skin,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the bruised bite marks on my throat. The pressure against the bruises was a dull ache that rode the border between pain and pleasure, just like when we all press a bruise to see if it still hurts.
“I like seeing my mark on you,” I retorted, pulling at the hem of his shirt. He pulled his red-stained shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the hard angles of his chest and abs, and just the faintest line of my tattoo that peeked over his waistband.
His skin smelled like the liquor in my cocktail, and I leaned forward and licked his shoulder, then traced my way down his hard abs as he groaned. Cain looked as if he were covered in blood, but he tasted delicious. My hands slid down his denim thighs as I knelt to lick along the lowest hard ridges of his abs, and I looked up at him.
“You didn’t have to force me, you know,” I said, my voice threaded with meaning.
His fingers sank into my hair. “But that’s half the fun, little devil.”
I’d never had a boyfriend before–Stellan was as close as I’d come–but I’d read a whole lot on the internet.
I yanked his zipper down and pulled him out. Seeing my handiwork would always make me smile, those pink letters standing out against his chiseled lower abs. The skin was still angry from my tattoo, but I didn’t bother to kiss it better. I just wrapped my mouth around his cock and went to work, grabbing his balls in one hand as if they belonged to me. He let out a gasp that was half pleasure, half shock, as I manhandled his balls roughly.
He groaned, his thighs shaking, then shattered into my mouth. He’d come even harder, faster, than when he’d fucked my mouth.
I was still trying to swallow him down when he bent over and grabbed me off my knees, throwing me over his shoulder. I let out a squeal of surprise as he carried me toward the bar and all but threw me down on the edge. The next second, he ripped my panties off and forced me flat on the bar, spreading my legs for him.
“You could ask,” I gasped.
“But I don’t give a fuck if you say no,” he said, as pleasantly as Cain could, right before he pressed his head between my thighs. He licked the length of my pussy, and my core pulsed, my legs trying to squeeze shut. His hands braced my thighs, pushing me down hard against the cool wooden surface, just before he began to eat me out like the effort would earn him another million dollars.
The door opened behind him, then Pax said, “Oh shit.”
“Stay,” Cain murmured. “We’re almost done with cocktails. Dinner’s in a few minutes.”
He sounded like such a posh bastard even though my cum was on his lips, and then he dove back in, his tongue thrusting inside me. He moved one hand to thumb my clit, and my hips jerked. My hands tangled in his blond curls, although I wasn’t sure if I was trying to pull him closer to my clit or push him away. I never knew with Cain.
Pax did his best to make himself a drink around me as I panted and arched. I was still pulsing with the power of my orgasm when Cain pressed his lips to mine in a long, demanding kiss, and I tasted the smokiness of my own cum on his lips.
“You two have an odd definition of cocktails,” Pax said drily as Cain stepped back abruptly, leaving me exposed and reeling with pleasure.
I sat up with all the dignity I could muster and yanked my dress down to cover myself. I looked around but couldn’t find my panties, then realized Cain was stuffing them into his pocket.
“You don’t need these,” he said. “I want to think about your bare pussy grinding against the chair during dinner.”
“You’re ridiculous. I love food too much to think about sex during dinner. Especially if it’s just sex with you.”
Pax was watching me with a look that I couldn’t quite make sense of.
“What?” I demanded.
He shrugged, his eyes shuttering.
I swept into dinner, expecting to have to act excited about another bowl of Bran Flakes, but a hot dinner was waiting for me. The scent of grilled meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, and my stomach growled.
I wondered which one of them had ended that particular bit of torture as I chowed down on my steak. It was delicious and perfect.
And every time I shifted in my chair, I knew I’d lied to Cain.
Chapter17
