A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (48 page)

Late Wednesday morning, Cain calls me from the office with good news.  Miss Pierce at Entrance confirmed to the police that I tried on Elizabeth's dress, and she said she was almost certain Cain and I were having sex in the dressing room.  Unfortunately, though Pierce was spying on Cain and I, neither she nor anyone else at the shop seems to know who bought the size 6.  It was paid for with cash, and the girl who sold it says she didn't recognize the buyer, though it definitely wasn't Elizabeth.  It makes me wonder if the person who bought it was also the killer. 
What if Cain's fear that it has something to do with me is justified?  What if killing Elizabeth in that dress was a message to me? 
I don't dare mention those thoughts to Cain.  He has enough on his mind, and I'm probably just being paranoid anyway.

I put it out of my mind, distracting myself by spending much of my day online planning out my dungeon, and by the time Cain comes home, I am completely ravenous for him.  It's almost 5:00 when he walks through the door, but not knowing exactly when to expect him, I have been freshly showered and dressed in a baby doll nightie since before 4:00.

"You!  Bedroom!  Now!" I shout from down the hall as I hear Cain's briefcase hit the floor in the kitchen.  Fuck being Samantha Stevens!

"What are those for?" I ask when Cain appears in the doorway with a bouquet of white roses.

"Maybe I just wanted to bring you flowers," he says as he pulls me in for a kiss.  "You look delicious."

"Should I put them in water first?" I ask.

"I believe your exact words were 'You.  Bedroom.  Now!'"

"I think I can make an exception since you brought me flowers."

"Don't worry about the flowers, but I would like to request a change of venue."

"Anywhere you want me," I say, and Cain leads me out the front door and into the hallway.  Since he owns this entire floor, I don't mind being out here half dressed, but when he presses the button for the elevator, I protest.

"You know the video cameras in these elevators feed the security station," I remind him sternly.  He just gives me a knowing smile as he flashes a keycard in lieu of jingling a key.  We get in.  He scans the card, and when the button for the 36th floor lights up, it dawns on me that he's taking me to christen the new acquisition.  It seems to take forever for us to ride just one floor up, and the thought of the guards downstairs seeing us together like this, him in a suit and me in barely there lingerie, is as unnerving as it is arousing.

"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask, feeling intrusive once we've arrived in the apartment to find it still fully furnished.  "It looks like the people still live here."

"They do."

"Then we can't!" I gasp, but I know I'm wasting my breath.  Cain will have his way if he has to tie me up, and he knows I won't use the safeword.  I just need to be absolved of personal responsibility.

"They're out of town, there is no video surveillance, and they're sending movers to pack it all up this week.  So it's as good as ours."

"It just doesn't seem right."

"That's what I'm counting on," Cain says as he slips the keycard into his wallet and takes a condom out.

Ugh!
  I think as he lays it down beside the roses on the breakfast bar and takes off his jacket.  "Still want me in the bedroom?"

"I meant
our
bedroom."

"You weren't specific."  Then before I can argue, he shuts me up with a kiss, backing me up against the kitchen counter.  His tongue explores my mouth as he twists his fingers around the thin elastic of my g-string before yanking it down and dropping to his knees on the floor before me.  With my legs together, he has no access at all, and after trying unsuccessfully to coax them apart, he stands up and lifts me onto the breakfast bar with my feet on the counter top.  Now backlit by the sun coming in through the balcony window as it sets over the Pacific, I let him gently push my legs apart, and he begins to tease me with his tongue.

"I love how you taste, Evan," he whispers.  "And I love your pussy...how it's concealed until I turn you on, and it opens up...like a beautiful flower that only blooms for me." Cain's words tear through me as he attacks me with his mouth, and in a rare moment during this act, I hear myself moaning loudly.  Craving more, Cain pulls me forward into his face until my ass barely touches the edge of the bar.  He's hungry and impatient, and just as he had predicted, being in someone else's apartment feels so wrong it plays right into my gradually waning hang-ups.

As he pushes me hard, my mouth betrays me again, breathing my pleasure into the air for his ears alone, and his lips vibrate against my clit as he replicates the sound, driving me unexpectedly to a spectacular end.  My elbows on the bar, I arch my back, forcing myself against his mouth as the blazing sun coming through windows makes me see red behind my closed eyelids, and my praise for Cain bounces off the ceiling, echoing resplendently throughout the great room.  He gives me as much as I can take, pressing on until I become too sensitive to tolerate the slightest contact, and now, all I want in the world is his cock.

I turn and slide off the bar on living room side, standing against the back of the couch as Cain's steely cock leads him to me like a divining rod.  He turns me around roughly, bending me over the couch, but instead of fucking me, I feel him spanking me with something.  It's gentle and mute against my ass, but I don't realize what he's using until I begin to see white petals flying around us.  Each time he strikes me, the petals scatter into the air, falling over us like snow, and when they've been entirely deflowered, I feel the sting of the stems like switches before he casts them aside.

My head filled with the fragrance of the broken petals all around us and my body insatiable for his cock, it's a disappointment when he opens the condom and hands it to me.

"If you want this fucking thing on me, you're going to do it yourself," he says.

"Fine," I sneer, and though I have no idea how to put it on him properly, I guess it doesn't really matter.  I just want to see what it feels like then never have to bother with one of these
fucking
things
again.  With a little help from Cain, I get it on, eagerly turning back around to lean over the couch.

And
oh, how we could ruin this white leather if we wanted to
, I think as Cain grabs my hips and slides his cock into me. I instantly notice a significant difference.  The smooth latex slides too effortlessly, almost torturing me as it eliminates the natural friction, and though it still hits me in all the right spots, I should have come by now.  It can take his cock less than a minute to get me off after he goes down on me.

Sharing my frustration, Cain always knows what I need.  With an intense grip on the flesh of my hips, he thrusts into me hard and purposefully as begins whispering to me, dirty thoughts about the couple who owns this apartment coming home to find him fucking me against their couch, slipping quietly inside so we don't even know they're there.  As he weaves the fantasy, I can almost feel their eyes upon me, watching us from the shadows, touching themselves and each other.

"She wants you, Evan.  She wants to get on her knees before you and taste you while I fuck you, and her husband watches.  He'd give anything to touch you, to feel your tits, your ass, your tight, wet pussy, but you're mine.  Your tits are mine.  Your pussy is mine..."  Cain's words are too much.  Finally, the fear that this condom might make me unable to come is released in a rush of inarticulate, airy praise as I exhale long-held breath, grinding against him while he bores deep inside me, guiding me through the orgasm to the bliss on the other side, and when I feel myself throbbing and tightening around him, I'm ready to have this fucking thing gone forever.  I stand up, forcing him out.

"What's the matter?" Cain asks, his tone cocky.

"I have my answer," I say.

"What was the question?"

"I wanted to know," I begin, speaking leisurely as I roll the condom off of him with my fingertips and toss it into the kitchen.  "If the failings of my past were the condom or the cock."

"And?"  He laughs at me.

"You tell me," I purr, my eyes flashing, and Cain gives me a low growl, turning me back around and thrusting into me violently, his right arm holding me upward so I feel his words against my earlobe as he speaks while fucking me in perfect rhythm.

"Your answer, my love," he lays it out for me.  "Is that my cock was forged inside you...created for you alone...to perfectly fit and fuck your pussy."

"Oh, God!" I moan, brought to madness by his words and his cock...that perfect cock that was forged inside me, and as I shudder against him, I feel him swell until he fills me, his steely sword thrust deep into its custom-made sheath.

The sun hasn't even set outside yet as Cain and I lean against the back of our upstairs neighbor's couch catching our breath.  Having come unprepared, it's his turn to sacrifice his underwear to the god of fuck.

"Well, that was definitely the best time I ever had wrapped in latex," Cain says.

"Baby, I could wrap your cock in duct tape and still make you see God," I boast.

"Because you're the mold, Evan," he says, and though it doesn't sound quite right, the sentiment is beautiful.

"Guess it's better than being called the shit," I say, and Cain laughs.

When we go back downstairs, we leave the rose petals all over the floor to confound the movers, and Cain puts his suit jacket around my shoulders for the ride of shame as I try not to think about the cameras in the elevator.

"We still have the entire evening ahead of us," Cain says.  "What do you want to do tonight?" 

"We just took care of my plans for the evening."

"Mine, too," he says.

Deciding to go out to dinner, he brings his clothes into my closet and we talk while we get dressed, though he does most of the dressing for both of us.

"Do you always dress women?" I ask.

"Not usually outside the dungeon."

"So when you put that leather dress on me the other night..."

"That was not the sort of thing a submissive wears, Evan.  I've never bought anything like it before," he says as he zips my dress up.  I let my hair fall from where my hands held it up for him, and he runs his fingers through it.

"Do you want to do my hair?" I ask.

"You don't want me to do your hair."

"You did such a good job the other night."

"You," he says, looking me in the eye through the mirror as he stands behind me, "did not see the back."  I laugh, and as I do my hair and make-up, he watches me intently, lounging on the fainting couch.  If he doesn't take those heated eyes off of me, we'll end up missing the reservation Lucy made for us to christen my closet instead, but I know just how to dampen the mood.

"So has Trent learned anything new regarding the murder investigation?"

"Right now they're just running down all of the alibis."

"Other than ours?"

"All the guests who were unaccounted for between the time Liz left and the time she was discovered..."

"So how many suspects are there?"

"Me."

"Are they really not considering anyone else?  What about Sunny and the X-bitches
?
"

"X-bitches," Cain repeats with a laugh.

"Well?" I ask impatiently.

"Liz was raped, so they're looking for a man or a man and a woman, and the police think I had the best motive.  They think Liz got pregnant, and I killed her for it."

"You seem awfully calm about it," I say as I sit down beside him.

"Because I have nothing to hide, there is no fucking way that baby was mine, and I have a damn good lawyer." 

I hope you're right, Playboy.