THIRTY-EIGHT #2
Cain’s eyes were molten, heavy with something darker than lust as he held me locked in his gaze from the side.
‘That’s two,’ he said, following up with another hard thrust into me. ‘For disobedience.’
He hesitated with three, fucking me slowly, as if momentarily taken by the sheer feel of me around him.
‘Green?’ he asked, lower.
Relief and something warm, something irrevocable washed over me.
For all his rage, for all his ferocity, he was still making sure I enjoyed every second of this torture.
It took all of my strength not to rip the fabric out of my mouth and kiss him.
But this was a game. This was a punishment.
And I would let him have it. I would revel in it.
Because I needed it, too.
Nodding, unable to speak, I closed my eyes as he rolled his hips harder into me.
‘Cry.’ The command curled through me, low and unwavering, as he dragged the belt over my skin again like a slow, teasing caress – before—
Crack!
Number three landed. The force rocked me forward, my knees trembling as my body betrayed me, caught between pain and pleasure, between defiance and submission.
The leather burned on the outside, but the ache in my belly was more vibrant than the pain. It dragged a moan from somewhere dark and desperate. I hated how much I needed the next one.
He leaned in, his breath a warm ghost against my ear.
‘Cry for me, little angel.’
I wasn’t far from it. Emotion and sensation tangled, twisting like a vice from within. My body pressed back against him of its own accord, seeking more.
‘You’re only allowed to cry for me, is this clear?
Nod,’ he said. And I tilted my head. ‘You’ll never cry for anyone else.
Just for me. Cry.’ The word was followed with the fourth snap over my thigh.
And my tears spilt. He leaned his cheek against mine, bathing in the dampness of my own, his rhythm quicker. I moved slightly against him.
Cain inhaled sharply, the ragged sound of a man unravelling, his control unravelling thread by thread.
I moved again, just a slight shift, a slow roll of my hips, and his restraint shattered entirely.
His hand slammed into the wall beside mine, the belt still coiled in his grip, grazing plaster like a threat not yet released. His other hand seized my hips, yanking me back against the length of him.
A guttural curse tore from his throat as I ground against him, satisfaction breaking over me in waves every time he filled me.
And then – he lost it.
His grip tightened, his body caging mine as he took what was his – no gentleness, no order, just pure possession – steadfast and absolute.
A strangled sound wrenched out of me, pleasure and pain crashing together in a violent rush as he fucked me hard. The echo of our bodies meeting in this beautiful darkness crawled beneath my skin and took root.
Each thrust landed like a heartbeat, reminding me exactly who I belonged to.
The sting of the earlier punishment mingled with the sheer force of him.
Then the belt dropped, discarded. An afterthought. His fingers found my chin, turning my face to him, his breath hot against my cheek as he yanked the silk from my lips.
‘You going to lie to me again?’
The words were a growl, vibrating against my skin as his teeth scraped over my pulse, as if branding me from the inside out.
I could feel him everywhere – the heat of him, the weight of him, the way he held me, in the delicious way he tore me apart.
His grip never loosened. If anything, it tightened, his fingers branding my skin as though marking, claiming, holding me exactly where he wanted – where I needed to be.
The last threads of his control unravelled with every punishing, relentless motion. My body clung to him, pleasure so sharp it blurred into something darker – something consuming. Every nerve burned, stretched taut, trapped in the exquisite agony of too much, not enough.
‘I never lied.’ The words broke from me in a gasp. Desperate.
Cain groaned, raw, half-feral. His teeth grazed my jaw before biting down, sharp enough to sting, to punish me one last time.
‘I believe you,’ he whispered.
And then he shattered me.
His rhythm turned ruthless – merciless, as he chased his own release. No restraint. No hesitation. His hands dug into my hips, leaving behind the ghosts of his touch, his strength, as he drove me over the edge into oblivion.
I was coming violently apart, my body convulsing, the force of it stealing thought, breath, reason.
Dimly, I registered the rumbling against my throat – the sound he made when he was close.
But it was my body that broke first.
Pleasure tore through me. His heated skin muffled my cry. My body betrayed every wall I’d built, shivering as I clenched around him, pulse and breath merging with his until I couldn’t tell where pain ended and worship began.
I fell apart in his arms, while his hips still thrusted, deeper, slower – as if he owned the moment of my undoing.
Suddenly, he dropped me, his hands rough as he pushed me gently downwards, my knees hitting the cold carpet yet again. My thighs pressed together, but the moment was fleeting, because his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make me look up, to see the fire scorching him.
‘Mouth.’ The command was low, a shuddered exhale, filled with unspoken demand.
My lips parted, and he gave it to me.
There was no hesitation, no slow build – just raw hunger, relentless and all-consuming. His fingers twisted tighter in my hair. My hands clutched at his thighs, my balance wavering as my body weakened beneath him.
He thrust deep, his groan reverberating through my bones, through the floor beneath me. There was no slow build this time, no teasing. Just raw, overwhelming hunger as he took my mouth the way he had taken the rest of me – without remorse.
My body swayed as my knees weakened beneath me.
His hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place as he used me, fucked me, unravelled into me – pure tension and power, all sinew and strength, sweat and heat. A tempest unleashed.
I took him, every inch of him, every ragged breath, every tremor in his muscles as he fought for control. And I would have done more. I would have done everything to taste him again, to hear his breath escape him as he filled me.
‘Eyes on me.’ The command had me snapping my gaze, tears clinging to my lashes, meeting the wildfire in his eyes.
His breathing turned erratic, his body tightening and on the verge of breaking.
The muscles in his arms bunched up as the tremors began. The ink rippled as he slowly lifted his chin and looked into the heavens.
I desperately wanted to push him past that edge.
My hand slid up the inside his thigh, fingers light and teasing, before I cupped him. A slow, measured roll in my palm. His breath halted, his entire frame locking up as a rumble vibrated in his chest, his muscles tensing as if about to break.
‘That’s it, baby,’ he rasped.
His last thrust had his body quaking, and I hummed against him, absorbing the way he shattered when his restraint finally slipped, and his fingers loosened in my hair.
A choked, almost feral sound tore out of him, his body jerking, pleasure overtaking him in a violent, exquisite release as he emptied himself into my mouth.
Thick, salty taste of him leaked down my throat and I relished the taste of him.
His stance turned momentarily unsteady, breath uneven as the last remnants of control bled from him.
For a moment, the air between us hung suspended in ruin. The storm had passed, but the unrest remained.
Then his fist clenched once more.
He tilted my head up, his gaze dark, possessive. ‘Swallow. All of it.’
I did.
My pulse thrummed as his eyes tracked the motions on the line of my neck, watching, waiting.
A slow, wicked smirk curled his lips.