31. Marissa
THIRTY-ONE
MARISSA
His eyes have been watching me since he walked into the house. "I've missed you so much," he says the words almost reverently. He's stalking me as if I'm his prey, like I'm a perp he's about to catch.
He hooks his finger in a come-hither motion. "Can I do something to you? For you?"
"Yes," I whisper, nodding slowly.
With sure hands, he drags me through the house and to our bedroom. Once we get there, he shuts the door and locks it. He's never locked the door before, and I'm not sure what to make of it. This feels more serious than anything else we've done before.
I’m waiting for the moment he makes his move. Every part of my body is on alert. My nipples push against the lace of my bra, my fingers clench against the wall in front of me, and between my legs I ache more than I’ve ever ached before. My breathing is labored as I wait, eyes closed, forehead leaning against the solid surface, dying to see what he does, where he touches me first.
“Truth, Ris. While we were separated, did you have someone else?” He breathes close to my ear.
Cain comes up so close behind me I can feel the heat pouring off his body. Flattening my palms, I push myself back far enough so we touch. It’s a whisper of one, but it’s enough for now. Tilting my head, I can feel the hair of his scruff tickling against my neck. Tucking my chin down, I try to nuzzle against him. I shake my head. “No, never had a man before you, or after you either. You’re the first, the only.”
“Better fuckin’ well be the last.”
"What are you doing?"
He makes a noise deep in his throat. "You'll see. I haven't been able to show you who I am since I got hurt. I'm sick of taking things easy, Ris, and I'm pretty sure you are, too."
Smearing his lips up my neck, he takes a sloppy kiss before clamping down on my lip. When I protest, he turns me around to face the wall. Then, there's nothing.
I open my mouth to tell him he’s it for me, but he picks that moment to touch me. This is a possession, a brand. It's as if he's putting the Miller name on me through his domination. His arms come around my body, his fingers hook into the top of the bodysuit I'm wearing, pulling the clingy material down far enough so my tits rest atop the edge. Once he’s secured the fabric so it’s no longer in his way, his palms move back up, cupping my flesh. He squeezes roughly, making the lace enclosure gap, giving room for his fingers to sneak inside.
His voice is hoarse, deep, and the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “Was this expensive?” He fingers the bra.
“You know my bras are always expensive,” I press my thighs together, bending my knees to give a little relief. Besides my books, it’s the only other thing I splurge on.
“I’ll buy you more.”
With those words, he reaches completely into the cups, grabs hold of the fabric, and rips it off my body. It hangs loose, flapping as my breathing speeds up again. “You just ripped my bra,” I turn my head so I can see his blue eyes in the soft glow of the room.
“I did,” he confirms as he captures my lips the same way his palms capture my freed tits. It’s rough and out of control as our tongues duel for the dominant position. He wins, but only because I concede the victory.
Using the pads of his thumb and pointer fingers, he worries the hard nub, causing me to pull my mouth from his. I face forward, tilting my head back onto his shoulder, thrusting my chest into his hands. “Please, Cain,” I beg, wanting to feel what I’ve been missing for so long.
“Lift that skirt up for me.”
I dressed cute for the day, in case he did get his cast off. Celebration was at the top of my list, but I had no idea this would be it. I shiver as he mouths the side of my neck, his breath hot as he speaks against my skin. My hands shake as I remove them from the wall. His biceps tighten as he catches my weight against his palms.
“Your leg,” I bite my bottom lip as I reach down, pulling the edge of my dress up past my thighs, settling the material against my hips.
“The mother fucking leg is fine, Ris. Higher,” he growls against me.
I’m totally confused. “What?”
“Pull it higher. Give me enough goddamn room to work.”
The tension between us is about to break, and I wonder what it’ll take to snap.
I yank the material higher, like he instructed. “That enough room for you to work?”
Moving his hands down to my hips, he pulls my panties down before he smacks me hard against the left ass cheek.
“That’s for your smart mouth.”
I smirk because I know deep down he loves it just as much as I do.
“Hands on the wall.”
Slapping them back where they started, I push against the wall, sticking my ass out at an angle. Precious seconds are wasted as he finds the right angle fucking finally he again wraps his hands around my hips. There’s a slight tilt, a push against my back to situate me, and then there’s a thrust. That thrust is the best thing I have ever felt in my damn life. “Jesus,” I groan as he withdraws, thrusting back home. Letting the wall take my forehead, I become a ragdoll as I enjoy the way this man plays my body.
Cain
God this feels good, so fucking good. And to be without her for as long as I’ve been? It’s been torture. What we’re doing right now? The fact she’s invited me back into her body? Fucking dream come true.
Taking my hands off her hips, I run them down her arms. I stretch out from behind her, curling my fingers in between hers, as I hold her against the wall with my weight.
“Fuck me, Cain,” she sighs as I thrust so hard, I life her up off her feet.
Feet encased in the sexiest shoes I’ve ever seen in my life. My hips have a mind of their own, pushing, pulling, the plunge, the withdrawal. I’m on autopilot as I work against her body.
“You feel so good,” I whisper against her neck, sucking the flesh as I thrust deeper, hold there for a few heartbeats, and then withdraw again.
“Ohmigod,” she moans, the sound echoing off the surface in front of her. “Make me come, Cain,” she begs. “Please make me come.”
I take one of my hands from hers, bringing it back to her hair, fisting it with my fingers. “You’ve been a good girl, Ris,” I pull her mouth around, fusing our lips together. “What do you need? Take your hand off the wall and show me what you need.”
Reaching around my back, she grabs my free hand, bringing both our hands down to her core. With both our index fingers, we flick her clit, working in tandem to get her off.
“Yes!” She thrusts against our hands and then back against my cock in time with me.
My legs are shaking with the effort to hold back, but more than anything, I want to feel her come. I need to feel her pussy clench around me, have to hear the little noise she makes in her throat as she gets hers. There’s more lubrication, helping our digits slide against each other and her.
“Come on, baby, come for me,” I encourage her, because I know I’m going to blow, even though I already came once tonight.
“I’m so close,” she leans her head back against my shoulder.
Taking my other hand off the wall, I go to work at her tits again. Roughly grabbing, twisting the nipple, wishing like fuck I could turn her around and lick it with my tongue. I miss it, my mouth waters at the thought of holding the piece of flesh there. But this isn’t about me, it’s about her. Letting go, I lick the pads of my fingers before moving them back to her nipple, squeezing the way I know she likes it.
We’re both sweating, breathing heavily, grinding against one another. We’re both so damn close it’s almost a live thing between us. I’m clenching my teeth, wanting her to go before me, because I’ll be damned if I come before her. To wait this long and be a two pump chump? No fucking way.
Her palm comes off the wall, and she grabs her other breast, going to work on the erect flesh. “Yeah, yeah,” she’s chanting in time with my thrusts. Her body is getting slammed into the wall by mine, but she doesn’t care, and if she doesn’t care then I don’t care. Can’t bring myself to. The only thing I want to do right now is come and feel her come.
“Feel good? You there, babe?” I bite down on her shoulder just as she clenches on my dick.
“Yes! Fuck yes!” She moans, thrusting back against me. It’s like she’s broken through a brick wall and she’s on the other side, breathing heavily, now lazily stroking her clit, and putting her hand back on the wall.
It’s all I need. I push home, let myself go, and groan deeply in her ear as I pour myself into her womb, wanting to have that baby I saw when I was unconscious and dreaming after getting shot. And finally, fucking finally, I feel like I got a piece of myself back tonight.
Maybe, just maybe Cain Miller can start to put himself back together.