The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(48)

“You smell down there like you want something. Like you need something.”

He strokes his dick in his hand. I lift my head and watch him, trying desperately to endure this anguish building inside of me.

“I want you,” I say carefully.

“Oh, you’re going to get me, all right. But only if you hold still and don’t spill that tequila.”

Then his head is gone. It’s in my *. One swipe, two. I’m not going to last long at all. I’m too goddamned turned on. Then he stops and licks around my outer edges. He tenderly rains kisses with his wet tongue down one leg and back up the other then gives me another swipe between my legs, followed by a nip of my clit.

My stomach and chest are clenching forcefully, but now I really don’t give a shit if the tequila spills or not. I want him.

He does this move one more time. I lift my head and see him bend down and retrieve a condom from the pocket of his jeans. He tears it open with determination and rolls it on, fire shooting from his eyes into mine.

I’m starting to shake. The bastard has a smug look on his face. He knows he’s getting to me.

“I swear to God, if you don’t take that shot glass off of me now, you’re going to sit right there and watch me finger f*ck myself!” I screech.

“Don’t tempt me. I would enjoy it.”

Before he can reach the glass, I snatch it up my own damn self and drain it.

“It seems there needs to be some order in this courtroom,” he says huskily. “Someone doesn’t want to listen to the judge.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the lawyer who’s f*cking the judge!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“Cocky bastard.”

He shifts his body slightly, fiddling with something under the bar. All of a sudden the room explodes as the sound of an electric guitar comes out of the speakers directly above us. The deep voice of the lead singer of Foghat fills the room as he sings the opening lines to ‘I Just Wanna Make Love to You.’

The song is instantly recognizable to my ears.

I’m thrown back to years ago when we would listen to music like this, ear buds in our ears as we rode down the highway on the back of his bike. Cain used to sing this song to me, along with so many others.

He pulls my body towards him, his dick perfectly lined up with my entrance.

“The judge calls a recess while he sees the lead defense attorney in his chambers.”

Then he drives his dick straight in, slamming it up against my walls. My ass comes off of the bar as I revel in the wonderfully full sensation.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, stroking slowly.

I can hear my pulse strumming in my ears along with the erotic music as I watch him watching himself move inside of me. He continues to slide in and out at his slow pace, taking me higher and higher until I feel my back arching with my impending orgasm.

“Oh!”

I gasp when he suddenly slams in hard, stretching me even farther.

“You look like a dark haired goddess on top of this bar. I love seeing your body flushed, the scent of your * and the sweat between your breasts mixing with the oxygen filling my lungs. Hearing you groan and pant as my dick makes you come. I love you so damn much, Calla. Now hang on, because I need to pound this *. I want to own it. Consume it. Drive you crazy until you come for me one more time.”

That speech may have just stopped me from breathing for a bit, but oh my hell, he feels so good. One hand grips tight onto the edge of the bar while the other hand moves over one of my breasts, rubbing hard and fast across my nipple.

“So beautiful,” he moans. “Get there, sweetheart.”

His pounding is persistent, moving as fast as the hard strokes of the guitar blaring in our ears. I can’t help myself. I bow up, digging into the wood of the bar with my nails, I’m holding on so tightly. Cain shifts back and stills. His dick twitches and I feel the warmth of his release penetrate through the thin layer of the condom. We come together, just the way it should be.

He jumps down and pulls off the condom, looking up at me with a gleam in his eye.

“This trial has been reconvened until tomorrow morning because the judge will be in his chambers all day!”





Chapter Seventeen


Cain



I’m sitting on my deck grilling chicken for dinner and sipping on a beer while I listen in envy as Manny tells me about the M-24 sniper weapons he lifted from a f*cking pawn shop, of all places.

“Shit. You better not get your ass caught. You driving them to New York?” I ask, flipping the chicken.

I stick my phone between my chin and shoulder to free my hands and listen as Manny scoffs at the thought that he would ever be that stupid. I close the grill and take a long pull of my beer, catching sight of Calla in the kitchen doing her thing. I watch her thoughtfully for a moment.

“You know, Calla told me earlier her dad would help get us out of here. We should come with.”

The more I think about what she said today, the more I want to get the hell out of here. We’d be safer at Salvatore’s house than anywhere else.

“Tomorrow it is, then. I’ll call John. You know his ass will want to come. Cecily, too. All right, buddy. Watch your back. Later.”

I hang up and call John. We talk for a few minutes about tomorrow. My instincts were right. He wants to come with us, which is fine by me. I’m sure Calla will love having time with both of her parents, as well as getting to know Salvatore better. He can talk to her while she’s there.