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His eyes glint and burn as he watches me, his brow furrowed, his mouth lax as he pants roughly through each deep, slow thrust. His hips roll into mine. His thick thighs owning me with a gentle confidence that I didn’t know he possessed. He’s spent the weekend fucking me with little to no shame, pushing me to my limits, marking where he sees fit, and revelling in the loss of control we both share.
But this is different.
Something palpable exists in the air and clings to the tense brush of his shoulders.
It guts me whole and exudes from him in heavy, unapologetic waves.
He’s going to ruin any sliver of dignity I have left.
Mould it in his bare hands and send me back home a different woman.
“This is only the first of my goodbyes today,” he says softly.
I suck in a pained breath. His fingers tighten around my cheeks, and he kisses me hard. He pumps his hips in at a different angle, and the slight change pulls out a sharp cry of pleasure, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to have to say goodbye to this pussy.” His smile is soft and sad, and I bite my lip. “You feel so good. Can you feel how you hug my cock?” He kisses me roughly and thrusts in twice, the pace no different but harder, forcing me to feel him everywhere. My insides cling to him, and a rumble of pleasure rattles around his chest.
“Yes,” I huff through gritted teeth.
I don’t want to have to say goodbye to this pussy.
Not me, my pussy. It’s the brutal truth I need to hear.
“You’ve made a mess on my sofa,” he admonishes, biting my lip, and swivelling his hips.
I sob, and he pumps in and out quickly. I hook my legs around his back and beg him to give me what I need. Sweat is settling into his scalp, making it hard for me to stay hooked to his strands. I rock my hips into his. Slamming my smaller body into him, trying to build friction. Cain tuts and kneels up, leaving my mouth bereft. The angle has me hissing, and he opens his mouth, groaning in pleasure as his eyes glitter down at where he is stretching me widely. “You’re so fucking swollen,” he tells me, shifting to pull my hips into his. His muscles ripple and tense as he runs his hands up my thighs and spreads them wide so he can fuck into me with slow, deep pounds. My tits bounce, and his neck lolls back. “Pretty girl,” he warns. “You feel too damn good.”
“Say goodbye!” I cry as he pumps deeply. Bright blue eyes snap to mine, and I hold my hand to my mouth as pleasure ripples everywhere. “Please, say goodbye.” I stifle a sob, overwhelmed with emotion, attacked with sensation. I shake my head as tears prick my eyes, and I beg him for an orgasm that I know will wreck me.
His hips rock like a swaying boat, surging into my pussy. Each velvet thrust has my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my hands grappling to touch him, but he denies me that too, and gathers them up, pounding deeply. The wet slap of our bodies connects in a sweaty frenzy echoing around the elevated room. Cain growls as the noises quicken, my thighs tighten, and my cry is agonised, sweet, and loud for all to hear. He erupts into expletives, fucking me hard and fast, and his mouth is suddenly on mine, his tongue stabbing inside, sweeping up the tail end of a sob, as his cock lengthens and hot streams of his cum fill me up.
I hate this.
I don’t want to say goodbye.
I don’t want to fall victim to lust, either.
I know I can't let myself be dazzled by his words. The low hot confessions he has made over the course of my stay, the softly spoken promises, the devious pleas, the dirty praise, and hooded eyes following me wherever I go will remain in these four walls, burnt into the plaster and hidden in the cavities for none to see.
I don’t want to have to say goodbye to this pussy.
It’s just sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. There is no emotion here, only the intoxicating heat of lust boggling our minds.
I twist my head away, blinking furiously as he pants into my neck, his chest heaving with exertion. My hands splay in his hair, my body shuddering as my orgasm ebbs between us. Cain’s thighs tense, drawing out the pleasure before he relaxes into my body and plants a soft, wet kiss in the crook of my neck.
“That was still good morning.” His deep voice is charred by desire. Big hands circle my back so his arms are wrapped around me tightly.
Chapter22
Lauren
It’s late at night when Cain parks his car outside my block of flats. The journey has been quiet, the tension thick enough to taste. The engine stills, and I smile, twisting to face him, “Thank—”
“I’m walking you up,” he interrupts, jaw locked, eyes hard. His hands are as stiff as granite on his steering wheel.
“Oh, okay.” Elation erupts in my breastbone, fluttering wildly.
Cain walks me to my apartment and waits patiently whilst I key us in. This little space used to bring me such comfort, but I feel a great sense of loss as I cross the threshold. I find a place for my bag and hang my keys up, turning to find him clicking the door shut and looking at me with a closed expression on his handsome face.
