The Wrath of Cain(47)

“Spread those legs, baby,” his throaty voice growls.

I don’t even think about it. I scoot my body up, the cool, glossy surface of the bar grazing my overheated skin. I spread for him, planting my feet onto the wooden surface. He takes a few moments to enjoy the view, running his hands up my legs until he hits my thighs. He presses them gently to open me wider.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he goes around the bar.

He reaches underneath, then lifts up a bottle of tequila along with two shot glasses.

“Grabbing this, and these.”

“Tequila?”

“They say it makes your clothes come off.”

I scoff.

“You don’t need that to make my clothes come off.”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, twisting off the cap and filling the two glasses. “You see, my love, we’re about to have our own little party. Take your top off, but leave that lacy red bra on.”

He lifts one of the glasses to his mouth and drains it, his eyes never leaving my face as I sit up and pull my top over my head, tossing it behind me.

“Shit. You have the nicest tits. They’re beckoning me to lick them.”

He guides me back by placing his hand on the back of my head until I’m laying down again. My chest heaves, the ache between my legs growing more intense by the second.

“Do you like tequila?” he asks, raising the second shot glass. I watch him, mesmerized, as he places the shot glass right above the swell of my breasts.

“I love tequila,” I say breathlessly.

“Me too. Now don’t move. No matter what I do, stay still. Understand?”

I nod my head and watch him intensely when he dips down, opens his mouth, and takes a nipple into his mouth through my bra. I gasp when he bites down on it. The shot glass wobbles slightly.

“Don’t spill it,” he warns, unclasping the front of my bra with his long fingers. Pulling the cups to the side, he exposes my breasts. He stares in awe, licking his lips, then cupping one of them in his hand, palming it and rolling his finger across my peaked flesh.

“You’re killing me here, Cain.”

“No. You’re killing me. You have no idea how badly I want you. How much I love you and want to worship every part of this body.”

My chest rises and falls. The glass tips to the side. He swoops down, licking right between my breasts until he reaches the shot glass, then opens his mouth and tips the contents back. He goes and pours two more shots while I lay here in a trance, my insides shaking.

“Here.”

I sit up, expecting him to hand it to me. He doesn’t. He grabs a handful of my hair, tilts my head back, and devours my mouth with his. The bitter taste of tequila has never tasted so good when he strokes his tongue against mine. It seems like eternity before either one of us comes up for air. My hands roam underneath his t-shirt. God, he’s so hard. If I didn’t love every part of his body, I swear, I would find some super glue and leave my hands right here. Pure male muscle, all man and all mine to do whatever I want with.

“Keep your mouth open,” he commands, breaking away from our kiss.

He brings the shot glass to my lips; I watch his every move as he pours the clear liquid down my throat. I swallow, my nose scrunching up from the burn as it flows down my throat.

He guides me back down, then moves to the end of the bar to unbutton my shorts. I lift up while he yanks them down along with my panties, exposing me bare.

His hands scrub down his face before he looks back at my bare *.

“I’ve never seen anything so flawless in my life.”

His words hit me straight in the heart, in ways I have dreamed about for years.

“Now here’s the real test, babe. I’m going to eat this * like it’s breakfast. And you are going to stay perfectly still. Got me?”

Oh, I got you all right, you * tease.

I’m engaging in this game he’s playing, enjoying myself very much. But goddang, I want him naked.

“I’ll stay still and play along... if you take your clothes off first.”

He lifts a finger and wags it.

“Patience.”

“I don’t have patience. I’m a law student. A sex deprived law student who wants her husband. Now, my clothes are off. I’m naked and spread out on top of this bar.”

I spread my legs farther in illustration, reaching down and pulling the lips of my * apart. He looks down and then back up at me, a smartass grin on his face. Inside I’m laughing my ass off. Our lives are beginning to form into what I know will be a challenging yet fulfilling life. Both of us are control freaks, but it makes it all the more interesting. And it sure as hell is making me want him all the more.

I dip a finger an inch or so inside of me. He growls. Pulls his vest off. Yanks his t-shirt over his head. Jeans and briefs fall on the floor and then there he stands, all six foot plus of my man with a dick as hard as this wood I’m lying on. I have a perfect view of the lily stretched wide across the top.

My man thinks fast. He grasps firmly onto both of my wrists and climbs on top of me, bringing my arms up and over my head again.

“My courtroom. My rules. Keep those hands above your head, your legs spread wide, and hold still.”

I moan in frustration when he presses his cock into my center. He removes his hands from mine, picks up the shot glass, and slides his body off of mine. He delicately places the glass on my stomach, which is now moving up and down, twitching and clenching just as badly as the apex between my thighs.