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Caine laughs. “You can say that again.”
???
Silk sheets cling to my body. Their cool kiss is a delicious contrast to the warm body on top of me. I run my fingers through soft blonde hair. Day-old stubble brushes my cheek.
“Caine,” I moan, pulling him closer.
I’m trapped in that space between waking and dreaming. The dream feels so real, like it’s playing out in front of me. A heady, masculine scent surrounds me.
“Open your eyes, lass.”
Lass? Who do I know who calls me that? The answer fades away, carried away on the edges of the dream.
“Is this for me, my a mhuirnín?” the deep voice rumbles.
Warm breath dances against my ear and I press myself closer. Lips brush my earlobe. Still on the cusp of waking.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
Strong arms circle me and a low ache demanding attention throbs between my legs. Another moan escapes me. My hand travels between my thighs.
“Allow me, a mhuirnín,” Strong hands, push mine aside.
A moan slips from my parted lips. Breathy and low. I blink and his face comes into focus. He’s leaning above me, blue eyes like liquid fire.
“Caine? What the hell are you doing?”
“You were moaning my name. I’m just obliging.”
That could very well be true. I can’t remember my dream exactly and it wouldn’t be the first time I dreamed about him. The man from the library has lived in my dreams for a year now.
I close my eyes, wanting to block him out. If I don’t see him, then this is just a good dream, though I’m very much awake. “I told you, it was a one-time thing.”
His hand roams between the parting of my thighs slowly, caressing the soft skin there. I whimper. He trails a finger along my slit, and I gasp.
“What sort of man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?” he murmurs. “You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine.”
He slides a finger inside me and my breath hitches. Warmth explodes inside of me and I blush when I realize I’m a soaking mess.
“You’re so wet, lass,” Caine murmurs in a husky voice that makes my heart skip a beat. “I’ll take care of you.”
His thumb circles my clit. Colors explode behind my eyelids.
“It’s -” he curls his fingers and pumps them faster, eliciting a stuttering moan from me. “It’s a one-time thing,” I repeat.
I arch my back, pressing myself against him. I mewl and tangle my fingers into his hair. God, I love his hair.
“That’s my good lass.”
In answer, I moan.
“I want you to look at me when you come.”
Defiantly, I keep my eyes closed. Caine’s hand slides up my stomach and between my breasts. Electricity sparks everywhere he touches me. His hand cups my throat, lightly.
“Look at me, Aurora. I want you to know who is making you feel this way.”
My eyes shoot open in shock at the commanding tone in his voice. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make him pay.
