Page 106 of Full Throttle

I was swept into another wave of pleasure, this time different than the last. This was less intense, but warmer in a way. It felt great—it felt like love. I chanted his name as my legs wrapped around him, holding him to me, buried inside me. I never wanted to break our connection.

“Fuck,” he bit off, dropping his face into my neck.

I shuddered, gasping. “Oh, Jesus. Cain!”

I felt his teeth, and then he bit my neck, the pain mixing in with the pleasure, not doing anything to silence my cries as he slammed into me a few more times. Then, I felt his cock swell and finally, Cain filled me.

Our ragged breathing was the only sound I heard for a few minutes, and that’s when it hit me. For the first time in years, I felt content. I felt safe.

I felt loved.

I closed my eyes, a single tear rolling down my cheek. “I love you too, Cain,” I whispered.

He didn’t respond with words. His arms slid under me, and then he rolled us to the side. I didn’t have the guts to look him in the eye after I said that, so I buried my face in his face, my breath skating over his tattoo.

His hand stroked my back, his cock softening inside me.

After a few minutes, when sleep was threatening to take over, I heard him whisper, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nikki

“Nik?”

I turned to find my very sleepy street racer standing behind the island with nothing but his jeans on. To make matters worse, they were unbuttoned. His eyes trailed down the length of me, from his T-shirt to my bare legs.

“Hey,” I greeted, my voice quiet. He ran a hand through his hair, and I turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the skillet. Keeping my eyes on the rice, chicken, and veggies, I felt him come up behind me. For a moment, I worried that he wouldn’t want to touch me, but those fears melted away when I felt his arms band around me. A second later, I felt his head lean against mine.

“You didn’t have to cook,” he rumbled.

“I like cooking,” I told him quietly.

A hum came from his throat. “I know you do, Nik.”

Such a simple sentence, but the words were so heavy. He knew nearly everything about me—heart and soul. But I knew, deep down, even with everything I am, everything we’d been through and overcome, it wasn’t enough.

Not for him.

I continued cooking, keeping my attention on the food as he stood behind me, holding me. I reached for the seasoning, and as I sprinkled it over the top, he broke the silence. “We need to talk.”

There it was.

“Right,” I muttered, moving away from him. As his arms fell away from me, I ignored the twinge of pain in my chest. The heat of his gaze burned into my back as I walked to the fridge, lifting my hand to the handle.

Suddenly, I was whipped around, my back pressed against the fridge with Cain caging me in. He leaned in, his eyes almost as hard at his jaw. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

Everything was wrong.

“I have to get that off the heat,” I stammered, pointing to the stove. It was a shit excuse, but it was the only one I had.

“Already off,” he clipped.

My mouth closed. He stared at me for a while, and when it became too much for me, I looked down, loving how close he was to me. His warm fingers gripped my chin, jerking my head back up. “Baby, forgive me for this, but what the fuck?” The words were soft spoken, but something sinister was woven within them.

“Cain, we have to get to Oasis.”

---