Page 93 of Cain

She giggles softly, her head tilting up, her lips hovering over mine. “You are impossible.”

“And irresistible.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Then the song ends, and we stop dancing, but the fire between us keeps burning.

I trace the curve of her jaw with my fingers. “What I know is, when you really want someone, you don’t just wait around. You find out everything about them. You figure out how to fit in, no matter what it takes.”

Once again, I mean every word I say. Maybe in my twisted way, but it’s true.

Her eyes linger on mine for a bit longer as if trying to process what I just said. She rises on her toes, grabs the nape of my neck, and pulls me to kiss her. I do. I kiss her without any shred of hesitation or resistance, but I let her think she has the upper hand.

Her lips are soft against mine at first, but as the kiss deepens, they’re hungry and greedy, begging for more.

I can barely hold myself from slamming her against the wall and fucking her until she forgets her own name, but I need to hold back. I want to see her side. I want to see that hungry, desperate look in her eyes. My hands, trembling with restraint, settle on her waist. She presses right up against my cock, already hard, already twitching for her.

She has no idea how close I am to losing it. Fuck, I want to tear her open, to bury myself in her so deep she won’t remember what it is like not to be full of me.

She takes her sweet fucking time with the buttons, one by one, dragging her fingers along my chest like she thinks she’s in control. Our mouths part, but her eyes stay locked on mine. She pushes me back onto the bed, and I go willingly, propped on my elbows, savoring the show.

She crawls toward me, sensually and predatory, like she owns every inch of space between us. And fuck, it works.

I bite back a curse as her hips sway. When she reaches me, her mouth hovers over mine, close enough for her breath to warm my lips, but she still doesn’t kiss me.

My cock strains against my jeans, and her eyes flick down. She sees what she’s done. A smug little smile touches her lips.

She drags her nails down my chest. “You’re not like any other man out there,” she mutters seductively, her eyes still fixed on mine.

“No, little rose. I am the monster willing to slit the throat of anyone who has ever made you miserable, even for a second. I am the one willing to burn my entire life to ash to keep you chained to me, no matter how much of you it breaks.”

“Are you that selfish?”

“Yes.”

She pauses for a second or two. “Maybe I’m already too broken to be afraid.”

I brush my knuckles against her jawline as a sinister smirk spreads across my lips.

“Not yet, moje krásná.”

My beautifullittle rose.

Beautiful in every way that burns me. She’s pure enough to worship, filthy enough to sin for, and unholy enough to make damnation feel like a gift.

“But be sure that you will break for me, Katerina.”

My phone rings. Damn it.

My eyes drift involuntarily to it. Bruce.

God, I hate this guy. I’m looking forward to the day that I’ll tear his useless head off his stupid body, and I will enjoy it more than usual—for no apparent reason. I just don’t like him.

As much as I’m dying to stay here and fuck her until she can’t walk, Bruce never calls me. He doesn’t have the balls to, and now my curiosity has reached its peak. Maybe they found something.

She scrunches her face and lowers her eyes so I won’t see it.

“Go. They’re waiting for you.”