Chapter 23 #2
She starts trembling the moment Cain begins playing with the remote, sharp gasps breaking from her lips as her body reacts before she can stop it.
“I know how you sound when fear is mixed with pleasure, kitten…” My mouth brushes her ear, satisfaction darkening every word. “Now let’s hear what happens when pain joins in too.”
I move closer until there’s nowhere left for her to look but at me, my hands closing around her breasts while my thumbs drag over her hardened nipples, taking quiet pleasure in the way another shaky breath catches in her throat.
My mouth finds the line of her throat, lips brushing against her skin before I begin kissing her there with a gentleness that feels more like mockery, my hands roaming over her body with slow, deliberate patience.
“Stop… please,” she whispers, the words so faint they nearly disappear between breaths.
“Don’t beg, kitten. That only makes me hard,” I whisper against her neck before my teeth sink into the soft flesh, sharp enough to drag a sound from her, while my hands continue their unhurried claim across every inch fear has left trembling.
I keep my mouth at her throat, pressing kisses along her skin as I move lower, trailing them down the line of her body until I reach her chest. I close my mouth around one nipple, sucking and biting at it until her body jolts beneath my hands.
One hand stays wrapped firmly around her breast while the other twists sharply over the opposite nipple, tearing a scream from her lips.
“Stop!” she yells, her body thrashing wildly as she drives her knees toward me. “You disgusting pervert! When my father finds out about this, you’ll both regret it!”
“Your father?” I ask, stepping back as if the threat has genuinely shaken me.
I place a hand over my chest, widen my eyes for effect, then let out a laugh that fills the room.
“You dumb, dumb girl.” I shake my head slowly, almost disappointed in her.
“All it took was sending your father a few sexy photos of you. After that, the two of you had a little argument.” I lift my fingers in mocking quotation marks.
“Because you spoke to him like he meant nothing and made sure he understood you didn’t need him anymore now that your husband can give you the life you want.
” The color drains from her face so fast it is almost beautiful to watch.
“What did you do?” she asks, disbelief cracking through every word. “I did everything you said. You promised you wouldn’t send those photos.”
“I never promised anything, kitten,” I say, amused. “Especially not to you.”
I step into her space, close enough to feel her anger, and press a soft kiss to her lips—gentle in a way that feels deliberately cruel.
She spits straight into my face.
“Fuck you!” she screams. “Both of you! You’re psychopaths!”
Cain rises from the sofa and walks toward us with slow, measured steps, the kind that always mean pain is on its way.
“You’re going to rot in prison,” she continues, anger cutting violently through the tremor in her words. “You sick, twisted…” But she never gets to finish.
Before the last word can leave her mouth, Cain flicks his wrist and throws the whisky straight into her face.
The liquid slams into her before she can finish speaking, forcing a violent choke out of her as it floods her mouth and eyes, leaving her coughing and gasping while it drips down her skin. He stands over her with the empty glass in his hand and a smile sharp enough to cut.
“Is that what concerns you right now?” Cain asks, voice lined with mockery. “That daddy saw your dirty little cunt?”
She tries to answer, but he cuts her off by grabbing her face, fingers crushing into her cheeks until her lips part helplessly, forced into a small, humiliating O.
“And besides that…” he says, studying her coldly. “Who gave you permission to speak to your husband like that?”
He keeps her there, jaw locked in his hand, then spits directly into her open mouth.
The shock on her face is immediate, horror colliding with rage as she chokes and tries to turn away, but his hand keeps her exactly where he wants her.
Tears spill over instantly while he watches every second of it without a trace of sympathy.
“Swallow,” he says quietly, tightening his grip.
She obeys, swallowing with shaking reluctance while tears cling to her lashes, the last of her defiance looking thinner by the second.
“Now me! Now me!” I chirp in a childish little sing-song tone, eagerly slipping back into her space like we’re arguing over turns in a game instead of tearing someone apart piece by piece.
I catch her jaw before she can turn her head away, thumb pressing into her chin to keep her mouth where I want it, then spit into it with lazy satisfaction. Her eyes flare wide with disgust, rage burning through the tears, but I only grin and tap her cheek lightly.
“Good girl,” The approval in my voice turns almost mocking. “Look at you learning how to obey your husband so fast.”
I step back from her slowly, letting the silence stretch while I cross to the low table beside the sofa.
My fingers close around the knife resting there, and I take my time turning the blade once in my hand as the steel catches the weak light.
By the time I drag a chair across the concrete and place it directly in front of her, she has gone perfectly still.
Cain settles deeper into the sofa behind me, drink in one hand, remote in the other, watching like a man who knows the night is finally improving.
I sit down, spread my knees, and rest the knife across my thigh before looking up at her trembling body. Then I smile.
“Now that we’ve dealt with manners, kitten…” I tap the flat of the blade against my palm, watching her carefully. “We can get to my favorite part.”