Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(44)

He shocked me when he took a cool grape and slid it down my chest. He used it to outline my red bra, taking his time to sketch over the cups and dip between the exposed cleavage. Then, he pulled back and popped the grape into his mouth. I couldn’t move, stunned by the motion, and the sensation. It prompted him to repeat the action. Taking another grape, he outlined the lace then slipped it down to circle the ripe bud of nipple standing erect in excitement. Drawing around it, he then flitted over it, dragging a lazy finger behind, before pulling the grape to an open mouth and sucking the purple fruit in whole.

My breath was ragged; it was the only motion I made. My sex pulsed and I inhaled with anticipation that he’d repeat the experience. He did. Several times. I was so turned on; I could hardly breathe. My arm collapsed and I found myself on my back, as fruit continued to paint my body. Eventually, his tender lips and the tip of his tongue followed the trail.

“Sweet temptation,” he muttered at one point, as he left no inch of skin on my stomach unfeasted.

The fruit sketching continued along the waistline of my underwear and my stomach quivered at the sensation. The grapes were gone. It was slices of apples and peaches that became a new paintbrush on my skin. He’d dipped below the waistband, not looking at me, but following the stroke of his fingers holding fruit. He nudged thin material down to expose a dark plot of hair then bit the apple slice hard, purposefully. He took another piece of fruit and hooked it to the edge of lace.

“Sofie,” he said both as question and plea. I couldn’t respond. I was a dish of exquisite fruit, and I was willing to let him savor each bite of me. Uncertainty filled me as my underwear was removed and a strip of peach came toward my center, but after dragging it through sensitive folds, then devouring it, I decided he could live off me if he wished.

He’d spread my legs enough to watch his work and enjoy the magic of fruit design. I was producing my own tender juices, and I longed for him to sample me. He didn’t disappoint as he rolled between my thighs, and without asking further permission, lapped his tongue along the length of me. I bucked in response and my hands fell to his head. His mouth pulled back, but my hips followed as if on a string. I could not break the connection with him. He purposely paused to reach for another piece of solid fruit. A cool strip of apple spread me then crunched in his mouth as he exaggerated the experience of chewing. My hands had fallen to my sides and clenched the sheet below me. I needed that mouth on me, no longer interested in the abundance of fruit in this garden.

Warm tongue hit my center again. I was the nectar he desired. His tongue swirled and separated. Dragging it slowly, he savored each lick then nipped me gently. As my hips jolted upward, his mouth opened and sucked me in, then returned to the languid lapping. My thighs shook. My fingers scraped his skull. My eyes rolled back after a brief notice of only one star shining in the darkening sky. I sighed in exaltation when a rush so powerful flowed through me and a river of release washed me clean. My knees clamped to hold his head and my hips rose as he continued to eat me whole.

When I finally came down from a high so unreal, I was gasping for air, he dragged up my body. The hard core of him was level with mine, separated only by the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Sofie, you are the sweetest fruit, but I desire more of you.”

Taking his meaning, I would not deny him. Tempted by his sexual knowledge, I wanted to know more. More of what he could do to me. I longed to be enlightened, and he was going to show me the way.

My answer to his request was to draw down the waistband of his briefs. Understanding me, he slid the remainder down himself. His face grew serious as he brushed back my hair, damp from the heat of the evening and the exhilaration of foreplay.

“You’re the only one I want,” he repeated from the night before.

Nodding was the only response I could make. His admission was so genuine. His words so smooth, they coiled around a vital part that opened willingly for him and allowed him in. The sensation of the hard heat of him entering me was indescribable. We moaned in unison, a prayer to the heavens that were dark and covering us. The stars blinked in the slow rhythm Cain repeated to fill me, over and over, taking his time for me to feel each ridge of solid skin that spread me wider.

“So tight. So full,” he muttered into my damp shoulder. One arm braced his weight over me. The other hand was in my hair at the nape of my neck.

My hips demanded an increase in pace and I rocked upward. The rhythmic hammering beat into me, matching the rising tempo of my heart. Eventually we raced, as skin slapped gently in the night silence, and breaths groaned in passionate excitement. The climb to the finish was near for me. I clenched the length of him, holding firm to each drag and pull, calling out his name as my hands covered the map of his back. Finally, my hands found those rounded globes of his ass and forced him forward, demanding he fill me deeper. I screamed out in ecstasy, and he followed directly with a tug to my hair, and a groan so loud the cloudless evening sky echoed it back to us.

Panting heavily, he eventually relaxed half over me, still positioned inside me. My arms had fallen to the sheet. My tired legs fell to the sides. He kissed barely-there pecks on my shoulder and neck before whispering in my ear.

“Stay married to me.”





With breath held, I waited; worried she would say no when she nodded her head infinitesimally.

“Say yes,” I demanded softly.

“But why?” she questioned, her voice cracking.