Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Margot
When I said take me upstairs and fuck me, I didn’t mean I expected Caine to physically take me up the stairs.
He does, scooping me off the couch and toting me up the stairs bridal style.
In his bedroom, Caine tosses me onto the bed.
He’s at the dresser in two huge strides, pulling the drawer open with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t fly off its tracks.
“You have a latex allergy, right?”
I blink at him, still coming to terms with the fact that he could carry me at all, let alone up the stairs. Maybe horniness causes superstrength. “It’s more of a sensitivity, but yes—what are you doing?”
“I have options.” Turning, he drops several small, unopened boxes on the bed, all of them with different labeling.
“Didn’t want to buy in bulk until I knew what kind you prefer.
” The grin he gives me radiates arrogance.
“Lambskin.” Setting that box down, he picks up another.
“Something I can’t pronounce, but it’s not latex—I Googled it. ”
Ribbed. Not ribbed. Lubricated. Not lubricated.
Lubricated with warming gel. I fight back laughter as he recites options with the air of a very intense server sharing the evening’s specials.
It’s the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen.
I almost feel as if I should choose one since he’s put this much effort in, but I want to feel him.
Skin on skin, free from physical barriers, since my emotional ones are still hanging around.
“The test results you showed me—have you been with anyone else since?”
Looking up from the box in his hands, he shakes his head.
“Same for me.” My cheeks are flushing. It’s ironic that now I feel shy when I had no qualms about letting him finger-fuck me in the haunt. “Along with the IUD, I’m also on the mini-pill for my cycle, so birth control is covered—”
Boxes hit the floor, bouncing off to who knows where. Whatever I was going to say next is forgotten. Caine holds my complete focus. In the last two seconds, he’s changed. His eyes are intense, body thrumming with a barely restrained energy that makes him seem bigger. Almost scary.
My pussy clenches around nothing, reminding me that she is a big fan of scary Caine.
Easy does it.
He hasn’t even touched you yet.
I should not be this turned on, but my body responded the moment he accepted what feels unforgivable without a second thought.
As if he expected nothing less than me sticking up for myself.
Caine’s chest rises and falls in a ragged breath.
Then he’s moving. Prowling back across the room, he’s on the bed—and on me—so fast I gasp.
Breath hits my cheeks, his lips hover above my mouth.
This fucking bet will be the death of me.
Fabric brushes my thighs, my sleep shorts tugged off in a blink. He reaches down between my legs, groaning as his fingers slip through my arousal.
“Fucking hell.” His curse is so soft I nearly miss it.
I feel the need to explain the water park between my thighs. “I’ve sort of been looking forward to doing this again.”
His rough chuckle doesn’t help the situation. “Me too.”
I gasp as he thrusts two fingers inside me, unable to keep my hips from bucking, my pussy tightening around him. Slow and easy, he finger-fucks me until I’m clinging to the comforter.
“You feel like heaven around my fingers. Soaking wet, gripping me so damn good,” Caine’s voice is a rasp, his words sending shivers through me.
“If you want this first time to last longer than three minutes, I should wear one.” One corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. “Give me a fighting chance.”
The emphasis he puts on this first time makes me flush, my pussy immediately shrieking, Yes, more times, all of the times. I glance down between us. His cock strains obscenely against his gray sweatpants.
Catching me looking, Caine chuckles again, the sound dark and throaty.
“See what you do to me?” Pressing his thumb to my clit, he rubs a slow circle, his fingers continuing to thrust metronome steady.
“I’m not even inside you yet. This pussy is about to ruin me.
” I don’t know what’s hotter, his voice or the evidence of his arousal.
He curls his fingers, stroking me from the inside.
I gasp, an undignified whine. Riding the edge of orgasm, how close I am makes it hard to think.
Dropping his lips to my throat, he presses rough kisses to my skin.
The world shrinks to him and his touch. My legs tighten, a desperate keening sound escaping.
“Oh god” comes out in a gasp, but Caine doesn’t miss it.
His amused exhale tickles. Barely lifting his lips from my skin, he murmurs, “I don’t share, but he can watch how I worship you.”
Pleasure rushes through me as he drags his teeth down the column of my throat.
Everything about him is all-consuming, clearing my mind the same way he did at the haunt.
I can’t think; I can only feel—and come.
Every muscle tightens, my orgasm crashing into me so hard I don’t know what I’m saying, what I’m doing, how I’m moving.
When I regain the ability to form thoughts, I only have one.
“Fuck me,” I pant. “Now.”
“Just did.” The human embodiment of the cat who got the cream, Caine looks more pleased with himself than any man has a right to. Licking my arousal from his fingers, his movements are leisurely.
I scowl. “With your cock.”
After one final lick, he grins wickedly. “And here I was thinking I was going to be the one coming ridiculously fast.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” My attempt at matching his arrogance is slightly dampened by the fact that I’m still panting, but I persevere. “You will. I’m a Kegel champion; you’re going to be fighting for your life.”
Sliding a hand between us, I grip his length over his clothes.
He tenses, the only movement his throat shifting in a swallow.
He’s hard and heavy in my hand. Hissing an exhale, he drags his teeth down the side of my neck again.
“Just know that I will make it up to you,” he groans. “During round two. And three.”
“Okay” is all I get out before he’s lifting my upper body off the bed, freeing me from my T-shirt in one smooth movement. Reaching for his own sweatpants, he pushes the waistband down, but his cock’s still covered by the black fabric of his boxer briefs.
Has a man ever undressed so slowly?
I’m staring, squirming, as he hooks a thumb beneath the elastic of his underwear. He doesn’t move. Impatient, I steal a look at his face. Mine immediately heats. Caine’s victorious grin steals my irritation, replacing it with mortification.
“In a hurry?”
I sniff. “No.”
“Right.” The satisfaction in his voice makes me groan.
The sound cuts off when he finally pulls out his erection.
Up close, the tattoo is even prettier than in the shower.
Eyes crinkling with the smile he’s fighting, Caine sits back on his heels.
As he strokes himself, I take him in. His thick, solid torso.
The happy trail I want to rub my face in.
Tattoos covering nearly every inch of skin.
The vine-and-flower ink on his arms gives way to an eclectic assortment of tattoos, though plants remain the dominant theme.
Despite all the gorgeous work, I’m partial to the rich purple-blue blooms running up one side of his shaft.
They look like gladiolus, but now is not the time for a flower identification conversation.
Staring like I’ve never seen a naked man before, I should feel at least some sense of shame, but I don’t.
He’s a feast for the eyes, and I’m starving. All I can do is enjoy.
Caine’s taking me in too. His stare leaves a trail of warmth across my skin, his eyes darting up to my face when I speak. “Are you going to look at me all night? Or fuck me?”
“So impatient,” he grumbles. He moves over me anyway, holding himself up with one arm as he drags his tip between my legs. Bucking against it, I hook a leg around his hip and squeeze.
“I’ve never had sex without a condom before.” Infuriatingly light, he continues to tease me.
Oh, shit.
The idea of being the one to introduce him to something is thrilling, but I don’t want him to feel pressured. I ease up on my elbows. “Oh, we can use one if you’d rather—”
“No.” His vehemence is sharp and sudden, a wolf defending its kill.
Okay, then.
I relax back onto the bed.
“I’m just setting expectations, in case I make a fool of myself.” His grin is uncharacteristically sheepish.
I can’t help myself. “That’s fine. I’ve seen you make a fool of yourself hundreds of times.”
“Brat.” He shifts into me.
My retort turns into a soft sound of pleasure. Caine’s barely in, but the stretch is already sending shivers down my legs. Trying to relax is futile. As if feeling my heartbeat in my pussy isn’t enough, my walls are tensing around him, embarrassingly eager for him to move.
“Holy fuck.” The words come out like he’s choking. I roll my hips the slightest bit, wanting more.
“No, you don’t.” Caine grips my hips, pinning them to the bed. The strain in his voice makes me laugh.
“Are you mocking me?” Despite being unmoving, he’s breathless.
“I would never.” Another laugh escapes with the words, the shifting making him feel even better inside me. “Just enjoying my front-row seat to your suffering.”
“Cruel,” he mutters.
Oh, really?
I tighten around him. As if electrocuted, his whole body jerks, his eyes flying open. “Margot.”
“You haven’t seen cruel yet.”
“I think I’m going to love it,” he groans.
Again, I pulse around him, his body tensing.
I’ve never felt this powerful in my life.
This wanted. Caine inhales hard. Sliding his hand between us, he begins to work my clit.
I’m so caught up in watching the way his face changes that my next orgasm comes embarrassingly fast. He isn’t even all the way in—or moving—and I’m coming.
Caine swears under his breath, jaw ticking as he rides out my climax. “I swear I know how to fuck,” he mutters. “Please do not judge me by this.”
I don’t know how to say that this is already the best sex I’ve ever had, from a pleasure and fun standpoint. It feels too intimate. I grab his hips instead. “Move.”
“It’ll be over too fast.” His words—and the desperation laced in every syllable—delight me. “I want it to be good for you.”
“It already is.” I grip him involuntarily, my body confirming the statement. Embarrassment at my own obviousness makes me close my eyes.
“Fuck.” He’s barely louder than an exhale. “Eyes open.”
I obey without hesitation. Apparently, an orgasm or two is all it takes to make me downright agreeable.
Breath hitches in my lungs as he flexes his hips, thrusting deep and holding it.
The stretch. The sting. The way the neatly trimmed thatch of hair above his cock drags against me.
I love it all. We both look down, focused on where we connect.
That gorgeous tattoo is no longer visible; I’ve enveloped it entirely.
Mine.
There’s no time to question the surge of possession I feel. Caine rocks his hips back and drives in again. Hard.
Oh, shit.
Arms sliding beneath my upper body, he pulls me to him.
Hold as tight as a steel band, he grips me as if he’s worried I might be snatched away.
Pinning me too tight to move, he doesn’t thrust, he ruts, as if pulling back fully would put too much space between us.
Short, vicious movements drive me into the mattress, each one accompanied by a huffing grunt.
This is not the cocky, composed Caine Underwood from five years ago.
This man fucks like he’s clinging to control for dear life.
Hands shouldn’t be able to feel hungry, but his do.
They’re everywhere, hot and rough on my skin.
His wild, nearly violent need is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he grits out.
“So good,” I can barely gasp. My back is arching. Toes curling. Fingernails scratching him like I’m out for blood.
“You feel incredible,” he mutters, eyes squeezing shut for a heartbeat. Dark and earnest, his gaze returns to mine. “God, I don’t want to let go; I don’t want to ruin it.”
Finally, my words return. I’m not sure I’ve ever meant anything as much as I mean my response. “You can’t ruin this. Swear.”
Flames leap in his eyes, then mine close as he finds a new gear.
Exhaustion, endorphins, and the deliciousness of his smell, his weight, him, carry me away.
Unraveling complete, I’m no longer a person.
I’m teeth grazing his throat, nails raking down his back.
I gasp as he thickens inside me, the cadence of his movements growing wild.
“Come.”
Thrust.
“With.”
Thrust.
“Me.”
Thrust.
The edge in his voice, the bite of his fingers into my skin—I couldn’t refuse him if I wanted to, and I don’t.
Teeth sunk into his shoulder to keep from shrieking, I come again.
Hard. Caine’s right there. Filling me, groaning into the crook of my neck, clinging to me with ferocity that makes my heart feel as warm and full as my pussy.
It’s heavenly.
And terrifying.