Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
He reaches for me, pulling me close against him with desperate hands. Our mouths crash together in a kiss that's all hunger and need.
His hot mouth is both soft and demanding against mine, moving with an urgency that makes my knees weak. I can taste the faint hint of coffee on his tongue as it sweeps into my mouth, claiming me completely.
His hands tangle in my hair, holding me exactly where he wants me, and I surrender to the intensity of his touch. The kiss is everything I've been craving—fierce and consuming, like we're both drowning and this is our only source of air.
My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can feel it through our pressed-together bodies, and when he bites gently at my lower lip, I let out a soft whimper that seems to drive him even wilder.
When I grind my hips against his hardness, desperately seeking the friction I crave to push me over the edge, he groans low and rough into my mouth—a sound that vibrates through my entire body and makes me even more desperate.
But then, just when I think he might give me what I need, he cruelly pushes me away from him, his hands firm on my shoulders as he creates distance between our heated bodies.
"Not yet," he breathes, that wicked smile playing on his lips.
So fucking cruel.
He throws me flat on the bed, and his mouth traces a burning path down my body, tongue following the curve of my hip bones. He peels off my panties in a flash and spreads my legs wide, his hands firm and possessive as they grip my thighs, and I feel completely exposed under his intense gaze.
The anticipation builds unbearably as he takes his time, his breath warm against my most sensitive skin. When his tongue finally finds my hot pussy with deliberate precision, the sensation is so overwhelming that I cry out, my back arching involuntarily off the bed as pleasure crashes through me.
He knows exactly how to lick me, bringing me right to the edge before pulling away again.
Fuck.
"Please," I gasp.
"Not yet, baby," he whispers, a wicked smile tracing his lips. "I want to be inside you when you come."
God, yes. I want that too.
He is such a fucking tease. Why is he this way? He's going to kill me.
My fingers work frantically at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
I peel the fabric away, my tongue darting out to taste the salty taste of his chest. His pants and boxers follow, until he's completely naked before me, his body sculpted and perfect in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
I can't help but trace the path of that silver chain with the diamond cross that rests against his collarbone. I trace my finger down the length of his torso, right down the soft line of dark hair above his delicious navel.
I can tease too.
God, he’s glorious.
He closes his eyes, enjoying my touch.
"Fuck," he mutters, abruptly springing up and running a hand through his hair.
"What?!" I ask, alarmed. "What is it?"
"I don't have a condom."
The realization hits me hard. He doesn't have a condom.
My breath catches in my throat as the implications wash over me, and instead of disappointment, I feel an unexpected surge of raw desire.
The thought of him bare inside me, nothing between us, skin against skin in the most intimate way possible—it makes me impossibly even more aroused.
My body responds immediately, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in my belly as I imagine how it would feel to have him completely, wholly mine without any barriers.
My pulse quickens as I meet his frustrated gaze. There's something so primal, so intimate about the idea that it makes my head spin with want.
"It's okay." My voice is barely a whisper. "I'm on birth control. I want you bare inside me."
The sound he makes is pure animal hunger. His hands grip my hips possessively as he pulls me against him, guiding me down slowly. The moment I begin to sink onto his length, we both release deep, guttural moans that seem to come from our very souls.
He fills me completely, stretching me in the most delicious way. The sensation is overwhelming—he's so hard, so perfectly thick, and without any barrier between us, I can feel him like I never have before.
He feels so damn amazing.
His eyes flutter, closed in pure bliss. He feels it too.
We start slow, savoring every sensation after weeks apart. But need takes over, and soon we're moving frantically against each other. When he hits that perfect spot inside me, my whole core sinks deeper into him.
"Caine," I gasp his name as pleasure builds to an impossible peak.
He follows me over the edge, and waves of pleasure course through me as he finally brings me to climax.
We collapse together, breathless and sated, our bodies sweaty and hot.
I pull the soft hotel robe around myself as Caine calls room service. We're sweaty and spent. I watch him as he kindly speaks into the phone, still revelling in the beauty of him.
When the food arrives—grilled salmon, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread—I realize I'm absolutely starving.
"God, I'm famished," I say, tearing into the warm bread. "I was so nervous today, I could barely eat a thing."
He nods, cutting into his steak with deliberate precision. "Same here. I'm always like that during tournaments—can't eat, can't sleep properly. But today was worse."
"Because of the final?"
"Because I kept thinking about you." He shoots me a sweet smile. "My brain is full of you. I thought it might even mess up my game."
I smile. "It obviously didn't, champ."
"I can't believe you just showed up like that. When I saw you in those stands..."
My heart flutters at the memory of his face lighting up, the way he vaulted over that barrier like nothing else mattered.
"I almost didn't come." I take a sip of the wine he ordered. "I sat in my car at that parking lot for twenty minutes, debating whether to turn around."
"I'm so fucking glad you didn't." He sets down his fork, his expression growing serious. "Jenna, these past few weeks... giving you space when all I wanted was to call you, to see you—it was torture."
"I know. I kept picking up my phone to text you, then putting it down again."
"I must have started typing messages to you dozens of times." He runs his fingers through that perfectly tousled hair. "I deleted every single one."
The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest tight. This powerful, controlled man—reduced to deleting unsent text messages like a lovesick teenager.
"I'm crazy about you," he goes on his voice dropping to that slow, honey-smooth tone that always undoes me. “You know I’m in love with you, Jenna. I think I've been in love with you since that first day I walked into the pool hall."
Damn.
The words rise from somewhere deep inside me, from that place I've kept locked away for so long. They hang on my tongue. I love him too—desperately, completely, with every fiber of my being—and for the first time since this all began, I'm not drowning in guilt or second-guessing myself.
The familiar knot of anxiety that's lived in my chest for months finally loosens, unraveling like a ribbon in the wind.
All those sleepless nights, all those moments of self-doubt and crushing fear about what loving him would mean—they feel distant now, like shadows retreating at dawn.
My heart, which has felt so guarded and fractured for so long, suddenly feels whole again. Open. Free. Like I can finally breathe without that constant weight pressing down on my ribs.
I'm ready now. Ready to stop holding back, ready to stop protecting myself from the intensity of what we have. Ready to give myself to him completely, without reservation or the lingering whisper of what-ifs that have haunted me for weeks.
The walls I've built around my heart crumble away, and what's left is just love—pure, terrifying, beautiful love that I'm finally brave enough to claim.
"I love you too, Caine. God help me, I love you so much it scares me."
He reaches across the food tray, his long fingers wrapping around mine. "Don't be scared."
When he kisses me, it's different from before—soft, reverent, full of promise rather than desperate need.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he whispers against my lips. "You and Liam. I want us to be a family."
My heart stutters. The rest of our lives. A family.
For the first time, that doesn't terrify me.
I close my eyes and let myself imagine it fully—the three of us as a real family.
I picture lazy Sunday mornings in his penthouse, Liam curled between us on that fancy velvet sectional while we read stories together, the morning light streaming through those massive windows.
I imagine Lucifer and Oliver, our two gorgeous beasts, slithering between us, rubbing their exquisite feline faces against our cheeks.
I see Caine teaching Liam how to hold a pool cue, how to line up a shot, the same way his father once taught him in that basement all those years ago.
The vision feels so real, so right, that it takes my breath away. This beautiful man who's spent his whole life building walls around himself, opening himself up to love not just me, but my son too. Accepting us as we are, with all our messiness and struggles and imperfections.
I think about how blessed I am to have found him—this unexpected love that crashed into my ordinary life and turned everything upside down in the most wonderful way.
And I intend to spend every single day showing him how grateful I am, how deeply I love him, how committed I am to making this work. For the rest of our days together.
When I first met him at the pool hall that ordinary Tuesday afternoon, he absolutely terrified me in ways I couldn't even articulate.
I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that this man would completely upend my carefully constructed little world.
I could see it in those stunning eyes of his, the way they seemed to see straight through all my defences.
I knew he was a hustler. I knew I was walking straight into trouble, the kind that would leave me questioning everything I thought I understood about my life, my marriage, my carefully maintained boundaries.
But God help me, it's been the most exquisite kind of trouble imaginable. The kind that strips away all your pretenses and shows you who you really are underneath all the roles you play.
And yes, I absolutely did get hustled. I got completely and thoroughly taken in by this beautiful, amazing man.
But it happened in the most wonderful, life-changing, sweetest way possible.