Page 72 of Like Grim Death: Part One
My lungs squeeze together as cool air hits my bare chest and I lick my lips, trying to jerk my arms away but he only clamps down harder on my neck, right at the base of my skull. He dips his chin, his mouth by my ear.
“Calm down,”he whispers, a lazy command.
“Let me fuckinggo!”My mind spins, and I don’t stop trying to twist in his grip, but the hold puts pressure on my neck, nearly pulling my arms out of socket the more I struggle.
I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I shoot up my gaze, catching sight of Atlas trailing down the steps, one hand gliding along the banister.
My face heats, the warmth trailing lower, to my exposed chest. My stomach and hips,lower still.He can see all of me, even if it is dark.
“Tell him to let me go,” I hiss, adrenaline coursing through my veins and its anger that’s the result. “Let me go, now. Why are you here?” I demand as Atlas continues his descent. “Why ishe—”
“You thinkI’min charge of Cain?” Atlas interrupts me with amusement, coming to the landing, feet from me, the entrance to mine and Maverick’s home at our side.
Atlas’s dark blue-brown eyes drop to my toes, then trail slowly up, taking in every inch of me as I try to jerk out of Cain’s grip again.
“I’m not Atlas’s bitch,” Cain says quietly. “Besides, I like when they fight.” He speaks those words like he’s talking to Atlas alone, like I’m not even here.
I clench my teeth and go perfectly still as Atlas’s eyes linger on my breasts before moving casually up to my face. He has one hand on the banister beside him, and he cocks his head, a slow smile curving his lips.
“I prefer to watch, but I like a fight too,” he says, like a purr. “Maverick doesn’t though, does he? Not when it’syou,anyway.”
There’s a pain in my chest, humiliation in physical form. “Let me go,” I say again, a broken whisper. I close my eyes, so I don’t have to see Atlas staring at me, my body caught between two dangerous men.“Please.”
Cain laughs darkly at my back. “That’s all you had to say, baby.” He unthreads his arms through mine as I blink my eyes open.
Immediately, I start to spin, tucking my arms to my body, intending to dart past him, but he bands one arm around my breasts, covering me, and brings a rough and calloused hand to my hip. “Well,” he says with calm, “you fucked that up.”
I dig my nails into his forearm as my tight nipples chafe against his hold, but it’s when his fingertips press into the bruises along the back of my thigh, just under the curve of my ass, that I stop struggling.
I stiffen, an ache lighting up around my muscles.
Atlas stares at me a moment, backwards hat on, blue T-shirt, gray sweats, white high-tops. He’s so tall, even with feet between us, he’s looking down at me.
Without warning, before I can understand the look in his eyes, Cain spins me around, grabbing my upper arm and pulling me to him, a gasp leaving my lips. Then hepicks me up,and I try to kick my feet to get free, but he says, his voice a growl, “I’m not going to hurt you. Let me hold you.”
Warmth spreads through me with his words, my chest still heaving from running and trying to fight.
“Come on, Ella. Humor me,” he presses, his hands on the side of my hips, gripping me to him.“Wrap your legs around me.”
Illicit feelings of lust threaten to choke me, and I don’t understand why he wants this.
I don’t wanthim,I don’t want anyone but Mavy, and yet I have a feeling he won’t let me go if I don’t obey. It’s how Maverick works too.
Slowly, I let him haul me up against him, my hands splaying on his chest, the expensive fabric of his button down soft and silky beneath my fingers. I try not to feelhimbetween my thighs, wrapped around him, not nearly enough space between us.
His hands grip my thighs, and his coal-black eyes look down at mine when he asks, so carefully, “Just how hard does he fuck you?” He flexes his fingers, the tips of them digging into my flesh. It’s like he’s trying to test my wounds, but I don’t know why he cares or what it matters.
A hiss comes unwillingly from my mouth, and I dig my nails into his shirt, pressing my head to his chest, arching my ass, an instinctive reaction to try and get my body away from the hold he has on my wounds. My core is flush with his abs, our bodies so close.
The pressure on my bruises lessens, but he’s still holding me up. I close my eyes tight, my heart tripping in my chest. I’m very aware of Atlas at my back. The fact I’m naked and vulnerable for two Unsaints, neither of them Maverick.
But as I inhale Cain’s dark scent, feel the strength of him holding me to his chest, for some reason… I am not as afraid as I should be.
“Or is it him at all?” Cain whispers the words against the tip of my ear.
“I’m sore. From…from w-working out.” I don’t know why I stammer over the words except maybe it’s because… I was never one toexercise.It feels weird, being that person now. Like I’m ashamed somehow, as if my insecurities about my body are exposed for Cain to see. And it’s not even the whole truth, of why I’m hurting. But I certainly can’t tell himthat.For all I know, that’s why he’s here. He’s testing me, flexing my loyalty.
“Is that right?” There’s a knowing in his question. A humor.
