Page 136 of Thirst
I kissed her mouth, her nose, her eyes. “You sure you’re okay?” I asked.
“Yes.” She squirmed against me, wet silk dragging over my hard flesh. “I want this, Cain. I need it.”
“Yeah?” I smacked her butt one last time. “Then take off these damn panties.”
38
Nyx
It’s true what they say about surviving something that should’ve killed you. You come out hungry—for life, for connection, for anything that proves you’re still here.
I was so eager I tore the waistband of my underwear, tugging too hard in my rush, urgency buzzing through every nerve. Then I was back on top of Cain. I snagged a condom from the nightstand, rolled it on, and then sank slowly onto him, taking him inside one thick inch at a time.
“So good,” I breathed and stilled, my forehead pressed to his. The faint scent of his skin—wild night air laced with something dark, spicy—wrapped around me. His fingers tightened at my nape, drawing me closer until we were touching everywhere.
I moved, and he answered, our bodies finding each other in a rhythm that felt instinctive, inevitable. I was used to Cain’s focus during sex, his control. But this… this was different.
This was making love, raw and unguarded.
This stole the air from my lungs.
This changed everything, like stepping out of a sketch into a painting—lines flooding with color, shadows breaking open into light.
With each advance and retreat, I sank deeper, moving slowly until I couldn’t stand it anymore and sped up the rhythm. I lifted away from him to get a better angle, hands braced on his shoulders, hips jerking. He gripped my ass, slowing me down, and I whimpered until he sat up, bringing me against his chest, his lips to the hollow of my throat.
His fangs grazed my skin, sending a bolt of heat straight to my sex. “Just a taste,” he said, like he thought I’d object.
“Gods, yes,” I rasped. “Make me burn.”
His answering growl rolled down my spine. He turned my head, exposing my neck, making me vulnerable in the best way possible—and then his fangs sank in.
I moaned his name and tightened my thighs around him.
He rumbled in pleasure—and released the aphrodisiac into my blood. Magic raced through my veins. I groaned, begged. Moving on him in pleasure-drugged waves as he sucked hard.
He swallowed, then drew on my throat again, driving me even higher. He gave a last, firm pull, then finished, licking the tiny punctures clean. Taking care with me as always.
He grasped my hips and drew me down hard, and I threw my head back, my hair tumbling down my spine. I exhaled his name, drawing it out. “Caaiinnn…”
“Right here,” he murmured. “Always.”
The world stilled. His eyes held mine, blue lightning flickering in their depths.
Then he lifted me up and dragged me down again, thrusting up to meet me. Once, twice, three times until I broke, grinding my pelvis against his, pinching my own nipples.
He cursed, a man pushed beyond his limits. “That’s it. Take what you need. Bad girl. My bad girl.”
Muttering hot, dark things until my climax exploded through me.
“Fuck,” he groaned and jerked, following me into the fire.
Later we took a shower, taking turns washing each other between kisses and orgasms, Cain on his knees with me against the tiles, the hot water drenching us, as he licked me into delirium.
After, he had me sit on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror while he dried and brushed my hair—long, slow strokes while I watched him in the reflection. He finished by putting the brush and hair dryer down so he could fluff my curls with his fingers.
A little bubble of amusement rose in my chest at how intent he was, like he had to make it perfect. “You’re good at this.”
He nuzzled my bare shoulder. “I love your hair.”
