Page 182 of Safe Word

Cain, who’d bled for me. Protected me. Who had haunted every inch of my damned soul.

He didn’t stop. Not when I gasped his name. Not when I whispered, ‘Please.’

Not when my body began to tense and coiling and shake…

Almost fucking there—

And just when I tipped, just when the world began to blur—

He stopped.

Wrenched his mouth off me like a final breath torn from blazing lungs.

And the emptiness felt cruel. A sob clawed up my throat.

Footsteps? Quick. Behind the door.

Voices.

The living room – they were back.

Cain surged, his lips wet with me, eyes black with desire—

He picked me up with sure hands and a bruising grip, setting me down hard on the narrow cabinet to the side of the sink. My dress bunched at my waist again. The cold surface bit into my thighs.

And then he drove in – one ruthless thrust. One complete possession.

I arched, mouth parting on a cry. His hand caught it as he clamped his palm over my lips. His body was anchored deep inside mine, shaking.

My scream dissolved against his skin.

But the truth of it – the ache, the claiming, the need – pulsed between us louder than any words.

His thumb brushed the edge of my cheek as he held his hand pressed in place.

‘Things I want to do to you now…’ he rasped into my ear as he began to fuck into me; deep, punishing thrusts that sent shockwaves straight through my spine.

‘Stay quiet,’ he whispered, his breath warm. His voice lethal. ‘You hear me, little angel?’

I gave a weak nod, eyes wide, already slick with tears from the effort of holding back my release – and bliss… for having him back.

‘Good girl,’ he rasped, rolling his hips again, slower this time, deeper. My legs shook against the cabinet edge as heat spiralled up my spine.

Then he pressed his lips to my ear again.

‘I want you to feel everything we never did… every night I wasn’t inside you.’

His voice broke through me, dragging shame to surface, curling it into something molten and filthy. ‘I want you to come on my dick while they sit outside that door. While they talk like you’re not taking me like a good—’ a strangled sound escaped him as he hit the right spot, ‘—good girl.’

And as if summoned, we heard it—

Genevieve’s voice, muffled. ‘Maybe five more minutes, then we pick it back up?’

Vinnie’s baritone followed close. Too casual.

I flinched.

Cain’s other hand moved to cradle my neck.