6. Erica
My skin crawls, but I can’t stop wanting him.
The pleasure aches pulsing in my core are stronger than my survival instincts.
He grips my ass with both hands, hoisting me up like I weigh nothing at all, and I wrap my limbs around his large body.
My fingers burrow underneath his collar, nails digging into his back and he groans against my lips while he kisses me.
“I know you said no names, but I wanna hear you moan my name when you come on my cock,” he says, grinding his crotch against me.
The pressure on my clit has me back on the edge, but I have another urge inside me.
One I can’t make sense of.
The undeniable need to please him.
To hear him praise me.
“What’s your name?” I bring out.
He snickers.
“Cain.”
Biblical .
Much like the way he makes me want to get on my knees and pray to him.
Much like the way I want him to defile me.
It suits him.
Cain, the seed of evil and violence and the first man to murder another.
Using the wall and one arm to hold me up, he unzips his jeans and yanks them down to his thighs at the same time as his underwear.
His dick springs free, the tip pressing against my belly button as our bodies mold together.
My heart lurches.
He’s every bit as big as I imagined.
A bulging vein runs along his thick shaft and beads of liquid pearl from the reddened, broad head, engorged with arousal.
It makes my mouth water.
Low moans vibrate in Cain’s chest as he repositions me and rubs his length along my slit, moving me up and down.
He enjoys teasing me and himself.
The constant friction is driving me crazy, but it seems like he could do this all night.
“Ain’t no way in hell I’m using a condom when I fuck you, darlin’. I wanna feel all of you. Bare,” he bites out.
I laugh breathlessly.
“I wasn’t going to ask for one.”
“That makes it easier for you.” He tilts his head with a feral grin.
“Because I wouldn’t stop anyway.”
My pussy throbs.
Him saying that should be a gigantic red flag, not a turn on.
Clearly, I’m much more messed up than I ever thought.
“Beg,” he orders.
“What?”
“I won’t fuck you until you call me by my name and beg for my cock.”
My thoughts whirl, my mouth going dry.
This is so humiliating, I can barely get the words out.
“I want you, Cain. Badly. Please…” My face flames.
“I need you to fuck me and stretch me with your big cock. I’ll do anything!”
He shudders with pleasure.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He lines himself up with my entrance, and then, he lets gravity run its course.
He impales me.
A cry surges from my throat.
My pussy flutters, trying to accommodate his size as he holds himself deep, pressed up against my cervix.
I grip his shoulders, my fingers digging into his muscles.
With every whine I let out, he twitches inside me.
Cain is getting off on my pain.
“You’re so deep inside,” I force out.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Oh, I know, darlin’. I meant to hurt you. You’re such a lil thing, it feels like I’m gonna rip you in half. But you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Only a whore with a death wish would invite a nameless stranger to her room for rough sex. You don’t give a damn what happens to you. You wanna get hurt.”
My eyes go round.
How does he know?
“No, that’s not—”
He shushes me.
“You don’t have to act coy with me. I’ll give you what you want. I’m gonna pound you like you’re just a hole to use. Just a piece of fuckmeat for me to abuse. I’ll wreck you.”
Before I can get over my shock, he pulls out to the tip and starts to thrust.
He moves me like I’m a doll.
Long, cruel strokes, burying himself in me, his groans and the noise of slapping flesh in my ears.
It still hurts, but his brutality is precise, and he hits all the right spots, his pelvis rubbing against my clit.
After a few tormenting strokes, the ache fades like background noise.
It feels fucking amazing.
Sex has never felt like this before.
Richer than pure lust, intensified by the pain.
Like dark chocolate, the bitterness brings out the sweetness.
Cain’s teeth graze my throat, trailing kisses.
He bites the spot where my neck and shoulder connect, and I moan.
“Louder,” he growls.
“I want everybody in this town to hear how well you take my cock.”
He keeps fucking me, and I beg louder.
Moan louder.
Broken sounds and words bubble from my lips, and when his hips jerk and his dick swells, I tip over the brink with him.
Cain’s release floods my insides, my eyes closing at the onslaught of my orgasm.
Fireworks dance behind my lids and I whimper his name like a prayer until my voice fades.
Cain slumps forward, but he holds me tightly.
Caught between him and the wall, I can barely breathe.
Tacky cum drips out of me onto the carpet, adding our mixed fluids to the stains.
I’m a mess.
Sticky.
Hot.
Sweaty.
Exhausted.
I’ve never felt better.
For the first time since my life fell apart, I’m at peace—in the arms of a stranger who fucked me brutally after holding a knife to my throat.
The irony isn’t lost on me, but I’m too content to care.
“Hell, that was incredible,” Cain says, and the part of my hindbrain that craves his praise purrs in satisfaction.
“I bet you agree. Don’t lie to me, little dove. I felt how hard you came.”
I manage a tired laugh.
“It was incredible.”
He straightens and my eyes open.
I’m met with his broad, lipstick-smeared grin as he tugs up his pants with one hand and carries me to the bathroom.
My brows rise with a silent question.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. That cut on your neck needs to be disinfected, too.” He stops in front of the shower.
“Unless you want me to fuck off right now?”
I hesitate before I shake my head.
Having some more company during my last night sounds nice.
“No, please stay a while, Cain.”
He untangles himself from me and I’m surprised how sharply I feel the loss of him, like a part of myself disconnecting from my body.
His cum oozes faster from my pussy as he sets me on my feet.
When my legs give in a bit, he holds on to my shoulders to stabilize me.
“Can you stand, darlin’?”
I give a lazy nod.
He unzips my dress and pulls it over my head.
I flush as he kneels to take off my heels.
Then Cain undresses himself.
Boots first, his tops come off second, revealing a drool-worthy upper body.
His forearm tattoos are actually breath-taking full sleeves, covering his impressive biceps up to his wide shoulders.
The nature scape on his left arm continues into a waterfall with horses drinking by the river and a mountain range with the sun behind it.
The snake on his right arm winds its tail around a skeletal version of itself, coiling over his shoulder to his chest.
Its skull sits below his collarbone.
I love his tattoos, but the rest of him is a feast for the eyes, too.
Cain has subtle abs below a toned, broad chest with a shadow of dark hair on it.
When he takes off his jeans and boxer briefs, I spot a thin happy trail leading to his well-groomed groin.
He turns away to kick his pants into the corner, showing off a horned demon skull covering his muscular back.
How did I get so lucky?
Cain takes my hand and leads me into the shower, making me stand with my back against his chest.
His dick twitches at the contact, soon ready for another round.
He reaches over me and turns on the water.
I squeal as the stream hits me, hot and cold, and when he chuckles, I jab a gentle elbow into his stomach.
The water is kind of nice.
Refreshing.
The clashing temperatures remind me of the sex we had.
Fire and ice.
Pain and pleasure.
Cain twists me toward him and frames my face with his hands.
He smiles so softly, my knees turn to jelly.
“Hold still. Let me take care of you, little dove.”
Nobody has said those words to me before.
Let me take care of you.
“Okay,” I mumble and close my eyes again.
I hear the pop of the body wash bottle opening.
His soapy fingers coast over my skin and I lean into his touch.
For a few minutes, I want to forget everything but him.
Just for a moment, I let Cain wash away my worries.