Chapter 31
Iwant to see him. I don’t know why, but I feel an invincible need to see him.
My spine is tingling, as if something invisible is pushing me to go and find him in his room.
I know he’s in his room at this hour. He’s not always away after he comes back from his work, and lately, he’s not there very often either.
That’s weird for him, but for some reason, I can’t complain.
For some reason, I feel safe when he’s around. Safer than I feel when he’s not.
Why did I tell him all these things, though?
Perhaps they’re true, and I’m trying to fool myself, too? That might be the case.
I make up my mind to go to his room and find him. I linger outside his door for a while and hesitate. Should I knock or not? He never does, as if my privacy doesn’t matter to him.
That’s a lie—lately, he knocks.
Besides, he’s different these days. He’s more … civilized.
Maybe I’ve changed, too.
Ugh, who am I trying to fool? I’ve changed a lot, and I hate to admit it, but I’ve come to like him. I want him more than I thought was possible.
Still, though, he won’t like it if I don’t knock, but I’ll act the way he used to. I’ll barge into his room like an asshole.
So, I do. I open the door and walk forcefully inside. I don’t know what I expected to find. Him smoking? Thinking? Scrolling on his phone? Jacking himself off?
I don’t see him anywhere, yet something tells me he’s here. What the hell is this feeling?
I stroll through his big bedroom, darting my eyes around, hoping to find some hints of where he might be.
His room, contrary to mine, is painted in dark tones, just like the rest of the house.
Dark, nearly black, but not in a suffocating way.
His house exudes modernism and elegance, just like him, reflecting his refined taste.
Ahead of me, there’s the bathroom door. Last chance.
I walk up to it and hold the knob in my palm. The creeps on my spine intensify without knowing the reason.
I finally find the courage to twist the knob and open the door.
The bathtub ahead of me is filled with water, and he …
Oh my God, he’s submerged!
Is he dead?
I gasp, my heart slamming against my ribs as I rush forward, nearly slipping on the sleek marble floor. My hands plunge into the water, gripping his shoulders, pulling him up with all my strength.
He’s not moving. Oh God. Oh God.
My breath catches. A sob claws at my throat. No. No, no, no—
Then, his eyes open, lazy and indifferent.
He blinks up at me, unfazed. “What is it, little rose?”
“What the hell are you doing?” I squeal, pushing him back. The urge to slap him is invincible.
“Relaxing.”
“That’s how you relax?”
“Sometimes.” A wicked and alluring smirk spreads across his lips as he rests his arms on the edge of the tub, watching me. “Sometimes I have to torture someone.”
“Very funny.” I roll my eyes, taking a step back. He scared the hell out of me.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“What’s what?”
“Is that concern I see on your pretty face?” He lifts a brow, amusement in his eyes.
“No.” I scoff, folding my arms. “I just mean … if you die, what happens to me?”
He leans back into the water, exhaling slowly. “Then you’ll be free.”
Freedom …
Why don’t I believe in that word anymore? Or better yet, why does it feel like a lie? A fantasy meant for people who have the luxury of choosing it. Not for me. Not in my case.
I look at him, sitting there, calm in his silence, and the thought of liberty feels absurd. Because when I’m near him, it’s the only time I don’t feel trapped.
I’m not free. Not at all.
But he doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know the way my pulse stutters when I think I’ve lost him. The panic that churns in my stomach when the thought of being without him crawls into my head.
He doesn’t need to know. So, I choke back my fears and remain defensive.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
He exhales a quiet laugh. He leans forward just slightly, resting his arms on the edge of the tub again, dragging his fingers against the surface.
“You assume I’d just die and leave you behind? That I’d let you go so easily?”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.
The corners of his lips twitch. “Tell me, little rose,” he murmurs, reaching for me, his wet fingers curling softly around my wrist. “What would you do if I were gone?”
I don’t pull away. Maybe I should. Maybe that would prove something.
But I don’t.
Instead, I hold his gaze, my pulse drumming against his ears. “I’d survive.”
His lips twitch again, just barely this time. “Would you?”
An unbearable weight settles on my chest.
I don’t know the answer to his question. The thought of him gone leaves me hollow, but I refuse to say it. I refuse to give him that power.
So, I lift my chin. “Yes.”
His grip tightens, just for a second, as if my answer affects him. Then, with an exhale, he releases me, sinking back into the water.
“You’re lying.”
I should end this conversation before he picks me apart any further. But my feet stay planted.
“You think survival is the same as living.” He tilts his head slightly, studying me. “Tell me something, Kate?ina … when was the last time you felt alive without me?”
I hate that I don’t have an answer again. I hate that he knows it.
“You care about me,” he continues with a smile.
What? I’m not replying to that comment.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Doing what?”
“The sinking.”
He’s silent for a moment, his fingers tapping slowly against the edge of the tub.
“Because I’m not afraid of it,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I’m trying to make it real. To prove to myself I can survive it. That I can survive anything.”
The way he talks about it … like drowning isn’t just a fear. It’s a choice he makes.
“My brother tried to drown me once,” he murmurs. I’ve never heard him speak about it like this. “He thought I’d die. That I’d drown and disappear. But I didn’t. I survived.”
His eyes lock on to mine. “I want to feel what that’s like, over and over. The fear … the power of knowing I can overcome it.”
My breath catches, and my chest tightens. There’s something broken in him, something that calls to the darkness inside me.
It scares me, too. It terrifies me how easily he plays with death. How little he seems to care whether he lives or dies, as long as he can control it.
I want to scream at him, to tell him he’s insane, but I feel weak to do so.
“You think that makes you alive?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t flinch. His gaze darkens, and his voice drops lower. “What else is life if not testing the limits? Testing yourself? I have to feel it. The fear, the pain. That way, it might go away eventually.”
I swallow hard. His hand slowly slips beneath the water. He isn’t afraid of it anymore. He’s afraid of not feeling it, of not living it.
I hate him for it. I hate him for making me understand, for forcing me to see the truth of his existence.
“You’re so broken. They fucked you up as well,” I whisper.
He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. His eyes remain steady. “I’m not broken.” He tilts his head just slightly, studying me like I’m the one who doesn’t understand. “I’m alive.”
I take a step closer and kneel, my hands on the edge of the tub.
“I am sorry, Cain,” I mutter, my lashes flickering. “No one deserves this.”
He raises his torso a bit again and gazes straight into my eyes.
His fingers slowly trail across my bare forearm, and with his other hand, he tucks a strand of my loose hair behind my ear.
“Join me.” He smirks.
“What?” My eyes widen.
“Take off your clothes and get in the tub with me.”
His eyes glint, almost daring me to refuse him. His fingers trail lazily over my arm, his gaze never leaving mine.
“What’s the matter, little rose?” His lips curl into a playful smirk. “Afraid to get wet?”
That’s when I realize it. The desire I feel around him isn’t just physical. It’s him. His soul drags me in like a riptide I can’t fight. It sets me on fire, yet it leaves no marks. It swallows me whole, and I crave every second.
He makes me feel alive—painfully, terrifyingly alive.
He forces me to exist in ways I never imagined, ways that tear me open and leave me exposed.
Every moment with him pulls me deeper into the chaos, into something I can’t escape.
And I crave it like a sickness. The freedom he offers isn’t peace; it’s a twisted cage, a glorious kind of destruction that feels like freedom even as it chains me tighter.
And I welcome it. I want to drown in it.
An involuntary smirk curls my lips as my gaze lingers on his for a few seconds. And then, I obey without any doubt. I stand up, slowly unzip my dress, and let it fall to the ground, leaving me in just my lace thong.
His dark green eyes savor me, filled with lust and anticipation, but he remains silent. He watches, enjoying the way the fabric glides over my curves before it falls away, leaving me exposed before him.
“All of it,” he growls, his voice low and commanding.
I glide my fingers slowly along the side of my thong, pulling it lower until it falls.
I step into the tub, the warm water splashing against my skin as I lower myself behind him. His broad back leans against me. I can feel the tension in his muscles. My hands rest on his inked shoulders for a moment, and he lets out a low growl.
“What are you planning, little rose?” He gives me a sidelong glance over his shoulder.
“You’re always the one in control,” I whisper in his ear. “Maybe it’s time to show you what I can do.”
“Go on, then. Impress me.”
He leans back into me slightly, giving me access. I feel his cock twitch under the water, already hard and waiting.
“You’re so ready for me. You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? Me to take care of you.” I lick his ear, watching his skin pebble with goosebumps. “To treat you like you’re my king.”
“Don’t get cocky. Do it.”
I bite my lip. Even his commands are laced with need.
My hands trail lower, brushing over his abs until they dip beneath the water. My fingers wrap around him, and his sharp intake of breath makes me smile.
“Fuck, yes,” he hisses.
“You like that?” I mutter in his ear as I stroke him slowly, feeling his cock pulse in my hand. He tilts his head back, his jaw tight as he fights to keep his composure.
“Don’t play with me, Kate?ina.”
“You’re mine right now, Cain. Let me take care of you.”
I press a kiss to the side of his neck, my free hand running up his chest as I continue to stroke his hard length.
“Harder,” he growls.
I obey, gripping him tighter, moving faster. His hand comes up to grab my thigh, holding me against him.
“Look at you,” I whisper, stroking quicker. “Falling apart in my hands. Just like you make me.”
He grips my thighs tighter. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”
I jerk him harder.
His voice is strained, his breaths coming heavier. I feel his body tense, his cock throbbing in my hand as he reaches the edge.
“I’m yours, Cain. Let go.”
Faster.
“Fuck—”
Faster.
“Kate?ina,” he groans.
His body shudders as he spills into my hand, his grip on my thigh tightening. His breathing is uneven; his chest rises and falls frantically.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he pants with a smile.
“Maybe I’m just learning from the best,” I brag.
His hand slides up my thigh, his fingers brushing against me under the water. He glances over his shoulder, a dark, satisfied grin on his lips.
“Your turn.”
I could never say no to that. Without a second thought, I stand up, pass in front of him, and lower myself, my back against his strong chest.
“Good girl.”
His lips graze my ear, sending goosebumps all over my body. His fingers glide over my skin, making my breathing more erratic.
“I like it when you’re worried about me,” he whispers in my ear, his voice rough and sinister as his fingers slide between my slit.
I take a deep breath. “Someone has to keep you from slipping too far,” I say, enjoying his fingers delicately teasing me. “I’m here, ready for you to do whatever you want to me.”
“That’s what I like about you …” He pushes a finger deep into my wet core, causing a sigh of pleasure to escape my lips. Oh, God. “That you’re always ready for me. Like a good little fuck-toy.”
His other hand trails up my stomach, cupping my breast as his thumb teases my hard nipple. The feeling sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my core, and I arch back against him.
“Cain …” I gasp.
“You have such a perfect little pussy.”
He thrusts his fingers inside me, curling just right. I cry out, gripping his thighs for support as my body betrays me.
His other hand wraps around my throat, holding me firmly in place.
“You are mine,” he growls in my ear.
“I-I’m …”
He curls them faster.
“Say it, Kate?ina.”
“I’m yours!”
Rougher.
“Again!”
His pace quickens, the water splashing softly as he drives me closer to the edge. His teeth nip at my ear, and his voice becomes a low, dark growl.
“I’m yours, Cain!” I cry out his name, unable to hold back.
My body tenses as waves of ecstasy wash over me.
He doesn’t remove his fingers from me. My breathing is unstable, and my heart is pounding.
“That was wild.”
I turn my head, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. His satisfied smirk makes heat rise in me again, and he leans in to kiss my jaw.
“That was just the beginning, little rose.”