Page 115 of Scarlet Wars
He didn’t move.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t force.
Simply waited—eyes locked on mine—as if daring me to admit everything without saying a word.
And then?—
I dropped that final inch.
The friction hit like lightning. I ground down against his thigh, slow at first, then harder when the ache between my legs turned feral, and the sound that tore from my throat was pure, helpless relief.
A low, guttural growl ripped from Caden’s chest, and his grip on my wrists tightened until it hurt. His thigh flexed under me, and I moved again, slow drags, greedy rolls, chasing the friction like I’d die without it.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a rough scrape against my ear. “That’s it, Thompson. Again.”
His breath hit my neck, scorching, his lips brushing the shell of my ear before his teeth grazed it, making me shiver.
I gasped, arching against him, pressing harder, chasing the edge that built with every pass of fabric over my clit.
“Take what I give you,” he murmured all dark and wrecked. “And rub that pretty cunt on me.”
His thigh flexed again, hard muscle meeting desperate rhythm, and my body obeyed without thought, my hips rolling even more.
“You’re soaking my pants, Thompson.”
I rocked against him harder, shameless now, chasing that elusive crest building deep inside me. Every drag of my body against his thigh drew another pulse of fire, another broken breath. His body was mine to use, and I used it.
Desperate, trembling, consumed by the way he felt beneath me.
He was breathing hard now, every exhale rough, laced with a groan that sounded like it was torn from his chest. “Emma…”
My name left his mouth like a prayer he didn’t believe in—raw, reverent, ruined—and the sound of it nearly undid me. I wanted to hear it again.Neededto.
The pressure coiled tighter, dragging me under until thought dissolved into pure, aching need.
His hand slid from my hip, knuckles grazing the bare skin beneath my dress before drifting lower. The touch was unhurried, intentional, every inch of the journey a question and a threat.
His fingers traced the inside of my thigh, spreading heat with every pass, until I was silently begging for what I already knew was coming.
“Caden—”
“Yes, baby?” he murmured with quiet menace, lips curving against my throat. His hand pushed against the thin lace of my underwear, and Iseizedas he brushed over the slick need between my thighs.
"Were you about to say something?" His tone was almost cruel, mocking.
“We shouldn’t…” The words caught in my throat, breathless and broken. I didn’t even believe them.
“I’m so fucking done with you fighting this. Tell me you want me,” he demanded, the threat clear in his words.
His fingers cruelly slid beneath the fabric, slicking through the mess he’d made of me… Circling, stroking, but not entering. The maddening friction made my hips buck helplessly toward his hand, chasing him like I didn’t have a choice.
But he didn’t give me what I was aching for.
Didn’t push in.
I choked on a cry, every nerve screaming, every part of me shaking, wild with need. He was driving me out of my mind with how little he was giving me.
