Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise Stories Book 2) (32 page)

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. Instantly, I was behind her, peering over her shoulder to see that her erratic chopping resulted in a missed slice landing across her thumb. Blood flowed quickly out of the cut.

“Here.” Strong arms encircled her, and she jumped back against my chest. The moment she hit me, she flinched a second time, and pulled away from me. Ignoring the flinch, I guided her to the sink and forced her thumb under cold water. The shocking sting made her draw back instantly. A kiss to her neck stilled her. Then she tightened again.

“First you’re jumpy, now you’re rigid,” I mumbled. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She wasn’t answering and I pressed the full weight of my body against hers. I was instantly hard, and I wanted her to feel what she did to me. My attempt to distract whatever thoughts clouded her mind didn’t seem to be working.

“Before I take you against this counter, I want to know what’s making you fidget,” I demanded low in her ear, but she only shook her head in response. My free hand outlined the side of her and she closed her eyes. She was fighting me, but why? My heavy length pressed against her ass, letting her know I was fully intending to take her against the kitchen counter, in order to get her to open up to me. She shivered against me.

“Do I frighten you, Sofie?” It came out commanding, but concern filled me. I didn’t want her to ever be afraid of me. I was more frightened of her. She would kill me if she left again.

She shook her head, but no words left her mouth.

“My father scares you, doesn’t he?” I asked, in silent hopes this was her fear. I didn’t want her to be afraid that he would hurt her, but I’d prefer she was scared of him over me.

“He’s a powerful man,” she whispered.

“I’m going to protect you,” I assured her with a tender kiss under her ear, as relief flooded me. It was true. I would not let him anywhere near her.

“What if he really does go after my family? My innocent grandparents? My Papa?” she questioned, still watching blood mix with water.

“He’s going after his own instead,” I groaned, resting my forehead against her shoulder and removing her hand from where I held it under the cool spray. She instantly began to bleed again and I stared as the blood dripped from her into the sink. The water swirled with red. A river of blood streamed toward the drain.

“What do you mean?” She tried to twist her neck to look at me, but my large body and solid forehead held her firm. I couldn’t face her.

“He’s pitting Abel and me against each other again.” Her body grew tense against mine. “He wants a rematch.”

She twisted as best she could to face me, and I returned to holding her hostage with my pelvis.

“You wouldn’t?” she stressed, searching my face, willing my eyes to look at her, but I kept them carefully averted.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Sofie,” I emphasized, dragging her hand up to my mouth, and sucking on her thumb that resumed bleeding with the fresh air. Holding it in my mouth as a human bandage, I swallowed her blood. A blood bond. She was my blood and I was making a pact with her. The cobra struck and continued to suck the blood of the woman. The snake and the female would be joined together forever. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. My eyes closed for a moment, keeping the intensity of her stare away from me. I sucked harder then released her thumb.

“But I don’t think I can fight my brother again,” I said softly.

“Of course,” she said, the words tumbling out. “That is ludicrous,” she added, placing her free hand on my cheek, adding pressure, so I’d have to meet her eyes. I turned into her palm and placed a prolonged kiss there.

“Cain?” she questioned quietly. “You can’t do this again.”

“He’s determined that I get it right. That we fight as if we should. As if it’s destiny. And I must win. I must prove I am the stronger brother.” I spoke between kisses I placed in her palm then began to trace down her wrist.

“You can’t do this,” she pleaded softly.

“I don’t have a choice,” I whispered. “I’d do anything for you.”

She pulled back, but I didn’t let her retreat. My mouth was on hers, where it longed to be. I savored those lips like I sucked the blood from her finger. I was drawing her into me, sealing us together, forcing her attention on us. I needed inside her. I needed to seal our fates deeper.

A determined hand lifted her t-shirt, but she stopped me.

“What is this?” I snapped. Sofie’s hands were on my wrists, working as a counterforce to the attempts to disrobe her and have her against the counter. “Why are you stopping me? Don’t you want me?” I growled in panic.

“No,” she laughed without humor.

“No, you don’t want me?” I bit, gently pulling back from her. She flinched at my sudden movement.

“Why are you so jumpy? I’d never hurt you, Sofie. Never.”

“I…I don’t know,” she stammered, her eyes dropping from mine. “I’m not sure what to think,” she stated sheepishly, looking away from me.

“Think about what?” I started. “Abel? I’m going to talk to him. We’ll figure something out.”

“Not Abel,” she spoke quietly. My hand came to her chin, demanding she look at me. My heart raced with fear. My eyes commanded her to speak.

“Us,” she said.

“Us?” I choked “What about us?”

“Just that…what are we doing?” she blurted.

“We’re…we’re not
doing
anything,” I responded, surprise in my tone. What I wanted to be doing was her against this counter, then upstairs in our bed.

She sighed deeply, raising her hands to gently push me back from her. I wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” I bit softly, gently tightening my hold on her. She was breathing heavier, her heart beginning to hammer. I wasn’t allowing her flight response, so Sofie was gearing up to fight. The back and forth between us was draining, but invigorating. She was sexy as holy fuck when her eyes gleamed in growing anger at me.

“What are you thinking?” My eyes narrowed at her. My own heart threatened to choke me.

“I just thought … after what I said … you might want to … you might reconsider …”

I stiffened, drawing back from her. My hand went to the nape of her neck, and I noticed her head flinch at the pressure. What did she say? She told me she loved me last night. Did she not mean it? Were those words in the moment?

“Reconsider divorcing?” I questioned, the words staggering out of my throat on a deep growl.

“Well, after last night … I thought … maybe …”

My eyes opened wide in disbelief.

“You thought,” I paused, uncertain of her mind’s process. “You thought I had a one-night stand? With my
wife
?” My voice rose enough that she cringed visibly. Practically grunting in her face, her eyes blinked from my breath slapping her.
This was ludicrous
, I thought with a bitter laugh.

My hand released its hold on her hair and slipped to her wrist. I tugged her forward, prepared to drag her to the dining room, if I had to. Yanking open the top drawer of the sideboard, I pulled out the infamous blue envelope. My heart raced with agitation. Slapping it down on the table, I struggled to move two dining chairs out of my way. I was ending this discussion once and for all.

“Get on the table,” I commanded, forcing her back with a tender hand pressed on her stomach. I was calm, but my voice was firm. She needed to do as I said.

“Cain,” she attempted, but the pressure of my fingers below her breasts warned her not to argue. I had her wedged against the table, before I lifted her to sit on the papers.

“What the fuck?” she blurted, surprising me. I was hiking up her skirt, which forced her to lose her balance and brace back on her hands. She squirmed a little, forcing her knees to close, but I was too quick. My expression must have shown her I wasn’t playing around. I dared her to swear at me again; it would only further turn me on. This was the snake, ready to strike, and she needed to stay very still.

Her knees were opened by the width of my hips. Her ankles were forced upward, and she fell back from the pressure. Her arms collapsed and she braced on her elbows against the table. I dragged her by her hips to the edge and bunched her skirt at her waist. Her panties were removed in an instant.

“Cain,” she snapped, in a weak attempt to deter me, or gain my attention, or warn me. It didn’t matter. I was no longer listening. I didn’t want to hear any more words. I wanted to prove to her, once and for all, how I felt about her and the fucking idea of divorce.

“You once promised to never let me take advantage of you,” I paused. The sound of my buckle clicking open, and my zipper being unzipped, mixed with the eerie sound of heavy breathing filled with anticipation and something else.

“And I promised in return never to do that to you,” I clarified. Grabbing her thighs, I did a double move of spreading her further and dragging her forward. I was already fully hard, my desire to take her only increasing the excitement. I raised up her hip with one hand, while wrapping the other firmly around my thick shaft. Her eyes opened wide.

“I’m keeping that promise, and all the rest of those vows,” I breathed. I meant what I said; I didn’t plan to hurt her. I’d never take her against her will, but I had to prove to her what I thought of a fucking divorce.

“What the …” Her breath caught when the tip of me was dragged through wet folds, parting them with the command of my solid head. I was holding myself, stroking forward, but not entering her. I was spreading her for me, prepping her for my entrance, but I wasn’t going in. No, this was about something more. This was much more than fucking
my wife
on our dining room table.

My stroking grew in attention, dragging vigorously from base to head. A vein bulged in my neck as I strained to pleasure myself. I was tormenting myself with the closeness of her, but not fulfilling where I longed to be: wrapped in her warmth, her surrounding me with those soft moans and tender scratches. The thought made me pulse. My concentration was intense and my eyes found her startled blues.

“What the fuck?” Irritation dripped from my voice, as I mockingly repeated her question. I squeezed myself harder, working vigorously at the length of me. My free hand was braced on her thigh, leaning toward her as I rubbed myself, dragging my dick through the heat of her. The thought of entering her pushed me to the edge. I hardly had her shoved away before I released over the blue envelope now between her legs.

“Fuck the divorce, that’s what the fuck,” I spewed from my lips, as the milky white liquid spurted forth and washed over the blue envelope. Zig-zagging sporadically, like a naughty boy learning to aim his spray, I panted heavily while I covered the blue paper. I looked up from my artwork to see a mixed expression on Sofie’s face: horrified but pleased? I couldn’t hope to dare believe.

“I don’t want the divorce,” she said with a hoarse voice. “But I wouldn’t let you fuck me, either,” she stated angrily, pushing me back from her.

“Fuck you? I don’t want to fuck you, I …” The words almost choked me. It didn’t feel appropriate to say them like this. “Jesus, Sofie. What the fuck do you want from me?” I snapped, continuing to hold myself, which was slowly getting softer.

Staring at her, there was no way to interpret what she felt. There was only a sense that I wasn’t giving her what she wanted. Our eyes were having a conversation as dark orbs tried to absorb what she needed from me, but I couldn’t read her. My eyebrows pinched and I slipped the remainder of the blue envelope out from under her, flinging it carelessly to the floor. I pulled up my pants, shifting myself back inside, despite the returning length. I stared at her open legs, still sprawled and glistening with desire. My first thought was to fall to my knees and worship her with my tongue, the way she deserved. Her sweet temptation on display, and begging to be savored, hardened me further and I gripped the edge of the table to steady my thoughts. But there was still something in her expression that told me, I hadn’t proven anything.

Why couldn’t he say it? Just say you love me, I screamed internally.

While he awkwardly straightened my skirt, I couldn’t move for fear I’d break into pieces. My elbows dug into the hard surface of the gorgeous antique table, and my arms shook with the weight of supporting me. My body vibrated with unsatisfied release, but it trembled with a touch of fear. Cain was a powerful man. While I wasn’t outright scared of him, his anger at the mention, again, of divorcing frightened me. His aggressive behavior and Neanderthal move to show his opinion of the question of separation proved he was on the verge of losing control. He was aggressive by nature, and he found passion in that. However, I didn’t believe he lacked compassion for me. My mind knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I was still shaken all the same.

Instantly, I was swept up in his arms, cradled against his chest, and my arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. His body must have registered my trembling because he shushed me with a tender kiss to the side of my head.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, as he exited the dining room and headed for the staircase. “I’ve got us,” he added. He carried me up the stairs, as if I weighed nothing, and took me directly to his room. My expectation was that he was going to complete what he started downstairs, which I half anticipated and half dreaded. I couldn’t have sex with Cain Callahan one more time without the reciprocation of his love. I’d foolishly said the words the night before. So wrapped up in his tenderness and desire for them, they simply escaped me. At first, I thought he was angry, wrestling with my clothing and slamming into me. I thought he wanted to fuck the words out of me, force me to take them back, but when his attention slowed, and he begged me tenderly to repeat them over and over, I realized saying “I love you” might have increased the experience for him. It might have intensified the emotion between us. The day after, I felt differently, especially when he hadn’t said them in return.
Did he not feel the same?