Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(4)

“Tell me you didn’t forget,” I whispered, my voice dropping as my pace continued. She didn’t answer me and I stopped. The blue rivers turned to ice as she glared at me. I was the devil. And I would break this reunion, if she didn’t play my game.

She shook her head, refusing to speak. I pulled out of her quickly, feeling the release of her juices as they slid down her leg. Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Then she said my name. It was hardly more than a squeak, a meek plea, an unanswered question. Her nails slowly released me. Fingers peeled upward from my skin. I was going to lose her.

Fingers slammed into her and her head gently fell back. She sucked in a harsh breath, as I demanded her recollection without words. I wanted her to relive the memory of what I had done to her. Only me.

I worked fast and her fingers lay back against my warm skin. Nails made tender impressions on my shoulder. She could mark me. I wouldn’t care. She’d already scarred my heart.

“Cain?” she questioned, but I knew the answer. She was ready to burst. Her tender fruit had been plucked and she craved what came next. That first bite. The sound of my name almost undid me, but it would take more than that for me to be satisfied. For her, the flick of my thumb unleashed her. Nails burrowed deep, her eyes shuddered closed, and her head tipped back. She clenched hard, squeezing my hand between her thighs. My dick practically danced, but I had been the king of denial. I would not have her yet. This was only a reminder.

As my attention slowed, and I spread fingers through folds so wet they wept, my forehead came to hers.

“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. My heart fell to my stomach as I held my breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

I pulled back in surprise, my eyes widened. My expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.

“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting her eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my retreating hand. She pushed the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.

“I’ll never forget…that you’re an *.” Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me. What I’d done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an *.





I don’t know why I let him touch me like that. Each time he called my name, I heard the desperation then convinced myself I imagined it. He couldn’t have wanted me like I had wanted him. It had been almost a full year. Too much time had passed. Convinced he’d known the touch of other women, I hated him for it.

But the second his hand gripped my upper arm, every cell of my being vibrated with the desire to be caressed by him. Alert and prickling with the renewal of his touch, my body betrayed me. The anticipation of his travelling hand, teasing me while it brushed against the side of my breast, was breathtaking. Literally. I couldn’t breathe. He was everywhere. In my face, in my hair, and heading toward a place I most desired he rediscover. My thighs spread only slightly, but I knew he’d fight his way between them. I was hypnotized by the glare of his eyes, the tone of his soothing voice, and the sting of his fingers. Cobra. The name suited him.

Fingers dove into me and I was paralyzed. My heart slowed as the blood flowed downward. A steady pulse beat between my legs as his fingers devoured a primal feast. He twisted and curled, and I was gutted. The only part of me that could move was the area within me that he explored. The rhythm became a living thing and my hips rocked over his fingers. I rolled against the cup of his hand. He was deep within me, like he’d been on those summer nights last year. Those nights where I knew I’d never be whole again without him. Those nights where he stripped me of a protective skin and savored every inch of me then spit me out like a used seed. I was nothing to him.

While my anger grew, my body ruled. I responded to the sting of his touch, especially when he threatened to stop. I could have threatened him harm, if my own body wasn’t wound tight with a focus on one thing. Release. It had been almost a year without the touch of another, without the touch of Cain, and I wanted it. I demanded it. I deserved it. When relief washed out of me, I was primed for another round until my mind caught up to my body. I had endured plenty at his departure from my life.

“Tell me you remember?” The gentle cadence of his voice was so out of character with the rough commands of his usual tone. My attention snapped to our position. His hand was coming out from under my skirt. A drop of my own release slowly trickled down my thigh. Shame washed over me. How could I have let this happen? He hadn’t even said hello. He just took from me and I gave in. He knew he could have me, like I was certain he’d trapped many women before and after me. Innocent fools ensnared by the charm of him.

Pushing against him, forcing him backward, it allowed me to slip out from under him. I needed space. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe only him or I’d be ensnared again. Once the Cobra bites, the sting lasts indefinitely.

I rushed down the hall, grateful that he didn’t pursue me. Racing to the closest door labeled Women, I fell against the door after entering. I needed anywhere that he couldn’t get to me, but I sensed I was no longer safe. He’d been looking for me, for whatever reason. He’d been searching and I’d been found.