Page 58 of Cain
I exhale sharply through my nose, my pulse hammering against his palm.
In a swift motion, he pushes himself up and off me, standing up from the bed like it meant nothing.
I sit up so fast my head spins. “Are you kidding me?”
Nothing. He doesn’t even look at me.
“You play these games,” I spit, my voice shaking with anger. “You push me, you … ugh! And then you what? Lose interest?”
He exhales slowly, like he’s bored.
“I told you,” he murmurs. “I don’t do this.”
“Bullshit!”
His head turns then, just slightly, his eyes flicking to me. “You wanted it.” He smirks, amused.
“And so did you,” I snap. “Don’t you dare act like you didn’t.”
His smirk grows wider. He doesn’t deny it.
I shake my head, disgusted. “You think you’re in control? That this little game of yours gives you power over me?”
“You need to rest, little rose. We have plenty of time to play games together.” He bends down, his lips hovering just over mine again as if he’s taunting me again. “Don’t forget you’re mine now. And I will bend you. Iwill break you.” His thumb brushes over my lower lip. “But not tonight. It’ll happen when I decide.”
Then, just like that, he turns his back to me and walks away.
I feel it, then. Rage is burning through me like fire. He’s playing with me. Toying with me, knowing I want it, knowing I hate that I do.
He’s so damn sure of himself, so damn sure that I’ll be waiting for him when he decides it’s time.
“You asshole!” I spit.
He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t turn around. He walks away and closes the door behind him.
I should be relieved that he’s gone.
But all I feel is the anticipation and the invincible need to make it real.
He will bend me. He will break me.
And worst of all is that he knows I’ll let him.
Fuck …
My whole body is trembling, and my breathing is uneven.
I should have taken her. I should have fucked her. Stripped her of every possibility of refusing me.
She thought she was in control tonight, that she could tempt me, make me falter. Pathetic. She has no idea how close she came to completely unraveling me. I will break her, claim every last part of her. But it has to be her choice—she has to give herself to me willingly. She has to surrender herself to me completely and without hesitation.
Letting the darkness consume her must be her decision, because only then will she never want to leave. Only then will she understand that there was never another path. That she was always meant to be mine.
I march away, heading to my office on the other side of the house. I press my finger against the biometric lock, and the door instantly unlocks.
I bolt to the whiskey stash, open my strongest scotch, pour it into the glass, and down it in one gulp.
How innocent she is. Fragile. Naïve.
