Page 142 of Cain
I never expected anyone to break through the ice inside me.
“I won’t leave you,” I murmur. She raises her reddish, glistening eyes and looks at me. I tilt her chin up and drag my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears I caused. “I’m not leaving you, little rose.”
As if I ever could.
Even if you beg me to.
Even if I have to shatter every last piece of you to keep you here.
“I wantyou,” she repeats.
“You have me. Every fucked-up and broken part. I might be your prison, but you’re my heaven. My perfect, untouchable Eden. The only thing that keeps me breathing, even if I have to keep you chained to stay alive.” I stroke her face. “My peace. And be sure I’ll drag hell to my doorstep if anyone even thinks about laying a finger on you.”
Absolute integration.
Peace.
That’s what I feel now, in his arms.
Hearing him saying those words feels better than I thought. It feels right. Never would I have believed that I would fall for my captor or a man like him. Maybe he’s not what I thought.
Or perhaps I am not who I thought I was.
He makes me feel free, and I hate it. Because the freedom he offers isn’t the kind that brings peace or release. It’s an abyss, and I’m falling into it without a single regret.
“My Eden,” I repeat, utterly lost in his arms.
Now I know I wasn’t built for some soft, ordinary kind of love. I was made for him. For a love that devours me, sets my veins on fire, leaves me trembling and craving more. For a man who loves me without limits, even if that love is twisted, possessive, and drenched in darkness.
“Mine,” he whispers, almost guttural, his thumb softly tracing my jawline.
“Muj,” I reply.Mine.Because he is mine.
He leans in, bringing his lips closer, and brushes them slowly against mine.
“All mine,” he mutters.
“Celý muj,” I repeat.
He remains still for a few seconds as if he’s hesitant about something, letting his eyes roam over my face. Then, his fingers tangle in my hair and grip it firmly, while his lips claim mine fiercely.
“You were mine since the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he mutters, brushing his thumb across my lower lip.
I feel my cheeks flush, and I can’t hold back the smile on my lips. “So, it was love at first sight?”
He raises a brow. “Cliché, right?”
“But so flattering!”
He chuckles, revealing his gorgeous smile. “Ah, keep calling me flattering, and I might start thinking I’m charming.”
“You are a little.” I brush his hair back. “Besides, I wouldn’t fall for a creepy dude unless he was charming as hell.”
He leans in closer, grinning wider. “So you admit you’ve fallen for me.”
“No!” My eyes widen.
He remains silent. Silent but smiley. “Hm … charming and creepy? Sounds like the full package.” He winks playfully.
