Chapter Twenty-One #5
“Caine . . .” was all the warning I could give before my back arched and my cock spurted over my stomach, completely untouched. He didn’t stop, he just licked and sucked at me until I collapsed on the bed, shivering with overstimulation.
Only once he was content with his efforts to clean the slick from my cheeks did he crawl up the bed, leaning over me.
His beard glistened. “That’s a good look on you,” I laughed lazily, cupping the back of his head and guiding him closer so I could lick up the remnants, tasting myself on his skin. “Will you fuck me now?”
“I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” he said honestly.
I moved my hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it and peeling it off his shoulders.
He rose to his knees, slipping it the rest of the way down his forearms and throwing it over the side of the bed.
The tattoos and scars I’d seen many times before reflected back at me in a new light.
I wanted to give them praise under my tongue, to kiss them, sketch them with my fingertips, and ingrain each one into my psyche.
He had so many scars, old and new, so much pain and suffering etched onto his skin.
Violence.
The word batted around my head, sparking a flashback I’d tried and failed to shelve over the past few days. I had to air it, before it got the chance to truly corrode.
“I need to say one more thing to you before we go any further,” I claimed, meeting his eye.
He tilted his head, listening, and my acknowledgment suddenly felt strained leaving my throat.
“I didn’t mean what I said in your office.
I know you’d never hurt me, hurt us. Not like that.
I shouldn’t have implied it, and . . . I’m sorry. ”
Caine soothed me with a caress of his knuckles against my cheek. “We were both vicious,” he said. “There’s no point dwelling on it now. It’s not important.”
“It is important,” I opposed. “I hurt you, which wasn’t my intention—not consciously, at least. But I won’t linger, if you’d rather we forgot about it?”
He nodded, and I turned my head to kiss his hand before sitting up to unbuckle his belt, and undo his trousers.
He let me shed them to his thighs, then he repositioned to take them and his boxers off completely.
His dick stood proudly against his stomach, a thatch of dark curls at the base, his shaft thick and hard, the tip beaded with precum.
I resisted the urge to lean down and take him into my mouth, to demand he fuck my throat, but only just. Instead, I did something I hadn’t done before, and reached up towards his eyepatch.
“Can I?”
Caine didn’t recoil or outright refuse, but he laid his hand on top of mine, stilling me. “It’s . . . unsightly,” he warned, though it still wasn’t a rejection. It was a defence, an almost apprehensive reaction. “You don’t have to.”
“Nothing is going to change how I feel about you,” I stated with conviction. “Least of all this. I just wanted to have no barriers between us when we bond. I want every part of you, Caine, but I won’t push if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I needed him to know he could trust me with his deepest insecurities, that he could unveil everything, every vulnerability he refused to show the rest of the world, and I would never shun him for any of it. I accepted all of him, exactly as he was.
Caine studied me, considering, before his hand fell away. “I’m yours.”
The declaration squeezed at my heart. “Does it hurt? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No,” he said, but hesitated. “Though, we might need to dim the lights.”
I nodded and inched from the side of the bed. I turned off the main light, shrouding the room in darkness before I switched on the lamp in the corner, bathing us in a warm glow. “Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
I returned, kneeling in front of him once again.
My tongue peeked out to wet my lips, and with careful fingers, I divested him of his last shield, leaning away to place the patch on the side table before giving him my full attention.
The eye wasn’t missing completely, though it was pure white, cloudy.
Most of the eyelid was torn, and the skin on and around the area was heavily scarred, pink and raised.
Caine’s fingers twitched at his sides, and the uncertainty in his gaze had my throat burning. I took his face into my hands, and leaned up to kiss the scarred skin under his eye before resting my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I whispered.
His tongue clicked on a swallow.
I withdrew and he swerved in to capture my lips. It was brief, but meaningful. A wordless thank you in return. I steered him onto his back by his shoulders, before straddling his lap. His hands came up to my thighs, squeezing them, dimpling skin.
He stared up at me in awe. “You look beautiful when you take what you want.”
“All the time, then?”
He scoffed faintly.
With one hand braced on his pec, I reached behind me with the other, guiding him inside.
I eased down, the air leaving my lungs in a rush as my body accommodated him, taking him in one go.
He fit inside me perfectly. His place, where he’d moulded me to his shape and made it so no one would ever fill me like he did.
Both hands were on his chest now, using him as an anchor as I lifted up and dropped back down, building a consistent rhythm, my thighs straining to sustain the glacial pace. He groaned under me, his eye closing, his cock flexing inside.
Getting such a reaction from him was exhilarating.
“Touch me.”
His eye flew open, and one of his hands roamed my belly, aiming for my dick, his fingers making a loose fist around my shaft.
The other rose to my pec, kneading the extra bulk and toying with my nipple.
A sound between a moan and a whimper escaped my mouth, the triple stimulation causing my eyes to roll.
I didn’t know whether to fuck into his grip or sink onto his cock.
My motions were stilted, my weight inclining forward just enough that he grazed my sweet spot on every grind.
The fullness, the sting, the stroking. It was an overload of sweet sensation, and I could hardly stand it.
“Fuck,” he purred, amused and aroused. “The look on your face. All you need is your mouth filled and you’d be fucking drooling. If only I had more fingers.”
I forced my hand to his wrist, bringing the digits from my chest up to my lips, sucking two inside.
I replaced his ministrations on my nipple with my own, pinching and twisting the pert bud until the pain sparked.
Caine’s fingers were heavy on my tongue, scarred, rough, and I hollowed my cheeks, tasting the salt on his skin.
He edged them deeper, his knuckles flush against my top lip. So full.
“Does that feel better, hm?” he rasped. “Both your holes filled? All your favourite spots stimulated at once?”
I nodded.
“You look divine, taking your pleasure from me. Using me to make yourself come.” He gritted his teeth, the hand on my cock flexing.
“You have captivated me, Dylan. My heart. My soul. Of course you have—fuck.” His hips jerked upward, his voice adopting a dark and almost bestial lilt.
“I’m a fool for not recognising it sooner.
For not seeing what was right in front of me. ”
We both are.
It didn’t take long for the familiar heat to gather again, for my balls to hug the base of my dick and my muscles to clench.
It was like a volcanic wave starting in my toes, sweeping up and up, crashing into my core and sparking outward like currents of electricity.
My eyes screwed shut, my nails dug into his pec, and no sound left my throat, too overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure to voice it.
Spots danced behind my eyelids, and I was distantly aware of a predatory snarl underneath me.
Before my dick had even ceased pulsing onto his stomach, Caine was lunging upright. He removed his hands from my cock and mouth, one arm looping around my back as the fingers from the other tangled in my hair. Dragging me into a brutal kiss.
“Don’t stop,” he commanded against my lips, his voice a guttural rumble. “Keep going for me. Push through it.”
I nodded, flinging my arms around his neck as his embrace tightened possessively, forcing us chest to chest. We moved in sync as I stroked his cock inside me, whining at the overstimulation as he mapped out my mouth with his tongue.
My spent dick was trapped between us, gaining friction against Caine’s abs, his arm around my back guiding me.
There wasn’t a single part of us not touching, even our scents were mingled, potent in the minimal gap.
The pain had dwindled to a dull throb, and the fire was swelling once again.
I didn’t think I’d manage to come a third time in such quick succession outside of my heat or his rut, but my hole was clamping down, my stomach was constricting, and I was determined to milk his knot once it locked snugly inside.
My head was swimming, my thighs and lungs burning.
Caine was stealing my oxygen, giving me his breath as recompense.
Just as I thought I might black out, his hand on my back lifted to my nape and he unclasped my necklace, discarding it on the mattress.
He returned to holding me, and the fingers in my hair yanked me away from his mouth as if he couldn’t bear to retreat himself.
“You said you were mine,” he remarked, his voice gruff and as wrecked as I felt.
“I won’t be letting you go even if you’ve changed your mind. ”
Tears cascaded down my cheeks, scorching hot.
I didn’t know why. Too much emotion. Too much sensation.
Too much of everything. I was fraying at the seams, but I couldn’t remember ever being so delighted to fall apart.
“I haven’t,” I said, tone unsteady, but resolute.
“Claim me. Make me yours, Caine. Only yours.”
He craned my neck, and with no further encouragement, he released a gust of pheromones and his teeth sank into my mating gland.
I choked, as intense and shrill pain radiated over my entire shoulder and down my chest, my body freezing stiff.
His knot inflated, and I might’ve come, the agony numbing and giving way to ecstasy, but I couldn’t be sure.
He filled me up, hips bucking as he growled against my throat, not unlatching until he was fully lodged inside.
He tipped his head, leading me by the hair to do the same.
It took every ounce of energy left in me to widen my jaw and bite down as hard as I could, breaking the skin.
A gush of hot blood and pheromones burst onto my tongue, my eyes drifting closed as pressure expanded in my chest before slotting into its rightful place.
I was flooded with an intricate plethora of emotions. I felt everything. His guilt, his obsessiveness, his respect, his yearning, his admiration . . .
His ruthless love.
I blinked awake to a solid form plastered to my back, soft breaths puffing against my ear, and strong arms hugging protectively around me.
I smiled and snuggled deeper, huffing a laugh as Caine kissed my head in his sleep and secured his hold.
It took a moment, but a sound drifted up to my ears, a low hum that seemed to stem from my chest. I was purring again.
Earlier that night it’d happened by accident; it had overtaken me without warning, and I’d suppressed it.
But this time, I let it rumble.
I was content. I belonged. Everything was good.
The feeling was back. The one I’d longed for.
The tie I’d lost twice over and expected never to have again.
A secure unit. Minnie’s string scorched brightly in the centre, but now there was Caine, the three of us connected.
The strongest bonds. The others simmered in the background, a web of ties in every direction.
I was part of a pack again. It wasn’t a fantasy.
No longer a childish dream, hopeless and impossible.
It was real.
A single, elated tear tracked down my cheek. I had a family. It was a dysfunctional one, but it was mine. I’d chosen it. It had chosen me, and nothing in the world was ever going to take that from me.
It could fucking try.