Page 214 of Safe Word

A guttural sound rumbled from his chest.

‘Relax your jaw.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘Good.’ His grip on the belt stayed firm, unwavering. ‘But you can do better.’

He pulled back just enough to let me gasp, only to press forward again, deeper this time, his invasion moving past my tongue as his molten eyes watched every moment of the exchange. I loved the heat in his gaze, I loved the way he barely held it together.

‘I want to feel your throat pulsing around me, little angel,’ he murmured.

Pleasure and power bled into pain and surrender.

My body tensed, but the belt stayed firm, holding me right where he wanted me. Right where I wanted to be. Watching him. Observing as he came undone in my mouth.

‘I want to see you choke on me,’ he growled with a shadow of desperation.

I closed my eyes, struggling to catch my breath as he penetrated deeper, hitting the wall at the back of my throat.

A sharp tug. The leather bit into my throat, and I shuddered.

‘Look at me, Paula. Fucking… look at me while you suck me off!’ The tone was raw, frayed and laced with a hunger strong enough to consume us both.

I lifted my gaze, blinking away the moisture that spilt over my cheeks, which he so gently wiped with his thumb. ‘That’s it. Give me your tears.’

I met the inferno in his amber eyes.

‘You going to lie to me again?’

The belt flexed in his grasp, a silent threat, a warning. His fingers twisted deeper into my hair, a delicious sting racing across my scalp. He held me there, the uneven undulation of his chest the only sign that his control – so ironclad, so absolute – was almost gone.

And then, without waiting for an answer, he drove the lesson home.

A sharp thrust.

My throat clenched, a gasp cut off before it could form. Tears pricked my lashes, blurring the shadows away.

I was trapped between his grip, the belt, and the sheer force of him. My breath came ragged, broken, my body trembling from the weight of his command. Every nerve ending burned, stretching tight between resistance and surrender. And I was so soaked for him, so ready. So hungry for him.

My nails curled into the fabric of his trousers with the next thrust, digging deep, a silent plea – or maybe a challenge. My mind was not my own any more.

He let out a sound that wasn’t unlike a beast’s, and it owned me.

‘Come on…’ The words dragged from him, bitten off between clenched teeth, heavy with strain, with something perilously close to release.

The belt flexed again. My pulse leapt beneath it.

After a few delicious, agonising strokes, he pulled back, leaving me gasping, my lips swollen, my throat raw, tears spilling over me in streams. Air flooded my lungs, but the reprieve was cruelly brief. His hand slid to my jaw, fingers pressing just enough to tilt my head back, forcing me to face him.

My gaze travelled past his straining cock, up the shirt that tightened around his pectorals and to his angular jaw. Hunger devoured me whole, something ruthless passing in the depths of his stare.

‘Did I say you could touch me?’ he whispered.

The answer hovered on my tongue, but I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to give it – or make him take it.

My lips parted, but no words came. Silence fell over us, feeding the fire in him.

A sharp yank of the belt. My world tilted as he pulled me upright, his grip still firm. My balance wavered, but he was already moving, driving me backwards until the cold, solid wall bit into my spine. The impact stole my breath, but there was no space, no time to recover before his hands were on me.

The sound of fabric tearing sent heat rushing through me. My dress crumpled beneath his grip, discarded without a second thought. His fingers dragged lower, slipping under my bra, a swift motion that left me bare beneath the cool air and the furnace of his stare.

Cain rumbled – a sound that had my knees clenching, my pulse skipping. Everything shrank away until only he remained.