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The lift comes to a stop, and we exit, our hands knotted together in some unspoken bond. We know what we are doing is wrong. Know that the rules he enforces and the documents of agreement I signed have been excused under the rush of lust. When he reaches the door and keys us in, my hand flexes softly in his.
I don’t know what I expect when we enter, maybe for him to suggest arranging some sort of lunch, so when he backs me slowly into the door and slants his mouth over mine in a bruising, slow kiss, I gasp, surprised. He holds my face, his thumbs dancing the column of my throat as he silences any fear, any awkwardness with a searing kiss that blooms from my mouth and roots in my toes. My hands slide around his waist and tuck under his shirt, and I run my nails over his skin, my body mellowing as my limbs soften and I melt against him. My nails claw and dig deeply as his tongue takes a lazy and heated run of my mouth, and when my eyes flutter open, he is dining out on my response. “See, priceless.”
“Tomorrow, we’re not leaving this apartment,” I hum as his teeth nibble along my lower lip.
“Not even the pope himself could pull me from between your thighs,”
“He might want to watch.” My voice catches. His eyes are glinting with humour.
“I wouldn’t allow it.” His mouth lowers, and his tongue careens down my neck. “If I had more to give. If there wasn’t the weight of the world bearing down on my shoulders, I’d never allow another man the luxury of you.”
I slam my eyes shut, trying to forget his words.
“Have you ever wanted something you know you can’t have? Needed to own something you know isn’t yours to take.”
Yes, I do now.
His words could crush hearts worldwide, and the damn devil is speaking them to me, luring my sensibility to sleep and waking up something far more basic, far less attainable. His eyes are molten. I find myself answering when I know I shouldn’t speak as freely as him, know I should guard myself because this man has the power to walk away unscathed from this. He can say whatever he likes to whomever and be damned about the consequences. I’d be no match as an adversary.
“I’m already regretting this, and for all the wrong reasons.”How am I supposed to pretend this weekend never happened?
“It seemed like a good idea, didn’t it?” he rasps.
I give a light but agreeable nod.
Chapter19
Lauren
The dip of the bed and the weight of Cain’s arm rouse me from my deep sleep. His fingers stretch wide, reaching to cover as much skin as possible and ground me to the mattress. I twist my neck to find him lost to the sleep that so easily claimed me. His hair is shaped by my desperate fingers. I told myself I wouldn’t allow my thoughts to plague me until I was in the safety of my own home. Only then, behind those four walls, would I let the memories of this weekend tear into me. But behind the cloak of darkness, I find them begin to nip, cutting past the thin barrier and eating into me. My breath stutters out, and my tongue darts to dampen my drying mouth. I’m a practical woman, sensible and loyal to a fault, so it irks me that I have given into something I have dismissed so easily in others. I greedily absorb his features, the smooth bow of his forehead, the harsh but flattering slant of his cheekbones, his wide fanned eyelashes and straight nose, all leading down to a full and sinful mouth. His jaw teases the idea of stubble, its shadow lurking below his skin. Pulling my lower lip into my mouth, I contemplate just how irresponsible I’ve been—how selfishly stupid I am. We’ve come a long way from snapping insults at one another. We’ll go full circle again. Cain will not hold me in special regard. If anything, he will ensure the only person who speaks my name with any detestation will be him and him alone—only I now know those words to be a lie. For every insult, below the surface, has been a compliment he could never utter, a desire he dared not voice. A chasm of truth we know should have stayed as false as our invalid dislike.
It really did seem like a good idea. Until it wasn’t.
Thewasn’tis a truth I choose to stay in denial from.
It’s a realisation that neither of us can afford.
Because this became something more than we expected.
Cobalt eyes break my train of thought, their deep shine a glimmer against the minimal light glowing from the hallway. My lip pops free, and Cain smirks, one side lifting in a boyish smile. It’s a far cry from the kind of smile that smugly pulled his face into anguished pleasure as he watched me scream for him. “Give me your thoughts,” he demands gruffly. Sleep is a heavy glaze in his eyes, a warm bruise in his throat. His hand squeezes my side, and his heavy leg pulls me closer, the rough hair a pleasant change from the silk sheets wrapping around the rest of me. “I want inside that pretty head.”
I shake my head softly, declining him. If I’m to leave this apartment with some sense of pride, it will be with the knowledge that I kept my heart and head intact. “My body you can have. It’s yours for the weekend. But the rest is mine.”
He moves fast to part us, and he pins me to the mattress, drawing a shocked gasp. He braces above me, my wrists locked and loaded above my head, as his knee knocks my legs apart. “I’ve seen enough truths in your eyes to answer my own questions.” His cocky smirk is long gone, and he stares at me with an openness I have yet to share with another person. There is no gratification in his tone. Arrogance has no place, so he keeps it at bay as his gaze dances between my eyes, waiting, watching for my response. His eyes fasten to mine with intent, eager for my reply, greedy for my thoughts.
“Don’t complicate this, Cain,” I whisper, my voice trembling as his hips dip back and forth, his erection gliding through my wetness.
“You complicated it.” He sinks inside, driving to the hilt on a practised thrust. His jaw goes lax as mine widens to give birth to a lengthy moan. “The second you pointed your finger in my face.” Hands cuff my wrists in a tight grip, and hips peel away, drawing his long cock out of my pussy, the thick tip still snug until he plunges back in, stretching me wide. “Lauren,” he grits throatily.
“Again.” I jolt forward, wanting his mouth, but he dances away, locking his arms and dipping his chin to watch as he rocks out all the way before sinking back inside with a low grunt.
“Fuck, you want to know what I think is in your head?” His thrusts are long and slow, his groin knocking against mine in a fluid roll. His eyes pierce mine, glittering, testing, challenging, and he rolls his hips, his shoulders bunching and knotting as muscles tense, ready for impact. I whimper, eager and hesitant for the amount of pleasure coming my way. “I think,Lauren—” He makes sure to hit as deeply as he can go. Pressing his body flush to mine. I arch, opening myself up for another slide and thrust, and he pins my hips to the bed as he rocks in, chasing the wind clean out of me. His vivid eyes are lit up like a blue flame, burning, flickering with too many truths of his own.
Shaking my head, I refuse to give him what he wants.
“I think you thought you could walk away from this.” Sweat beads below his hairline. My fingers are greedy for the silky strands and flex in his hold. He withdraws, and I bow off the bed, my hips following his path, desperate to hold the connection. He jackknifes back in, and my eyes open wide, my mouth gaping. He dives forward, sweeping his tongue in and savouring my cry for more. He eats my words, licks them up and swallows them whole, his hips pistoning in and out. The steady slap of flesh and the shared gasps are chased away by his deep moans and my higher mewls echoing through my head. His lips are on my mouth and neck, sucking, nipping and whispering filthy words. “I think,” he pants thickly, “you thought wrong.” He rams to the hilt, snapping the last of my resolve. It glitters and bursts through me, pulling all the pleasure to the apex of my thighs and bursting apart.
I call out, my voice raw, pleading.
