Page 99 of Cain

He touched her before? And she didn’t tell me?

I drop the axe and run my fingers through my hair.

Now, it’s her turn.

He’s going to kill him for sure.

Maybe he even deserves it.

Does that make me as twisted as Cain? Maybe I am.

I pace my room up and down, unable to calm down.

Then, there’s silence. A haunting silence that makes my spine crawl.

The door slams open with brutal force, making my eyes blink fast. I thought I’d locked it.

He storms in like a savage animal, blood dripping from his fingertips and splattered across his chest and face. His gaze lands on me, and I already know. He’s past reason.

Bruce’s severed headis in his grasp, dangling by the hair. I choke on my breath.

He tosses it across the room. It meets the floor with a horrendous smack and rolls until it sits on its side, staring with dead, bulging eyes.

I stagger back. My spine hits a wall. I can’t breathe.

His rage-filled eyes fix on me.

“You let him fucking touch you.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t want him to?—”

He grabs my face and slams my head against the wall. His grip on my jaw is like iron.

“You didn’t tell me!” he yells close to my face. “You let that piece of shit put his hands on you, and you said nothing.”

“I was scared you’d kill him.”

“You think you get to protect people from me?” he hisses, his breath hot and harsh. “You think your silence is mercy?”

His other hand is already tearing my dress, not caring about the seams, not caring about my shock.

“I killforyou,” he growls. “I killbecauseof you. And you hide shit from me?”

He spins me around and shoves me against the wall—hard. My cheek scrapes the paint. My pulse pounds in my ears. But why am I so aroused? I don’t care about the blood on his hands as they roam my body, nor about the fact that there’s a fucking head right next to us. Maybe I’m too far gone to care what he destroys to keep me.

He unfastened his belt, and his pants hit the floor. I feel him behind me, hard and harrowing, dragging wet fingers through my pussy.

“Ifucking knew it,” he spits. “Scared little whore is soaked for me.”

“Yes,” I breathe without thinking. “I am.”

“Let me hear how filthy you can get.”

He doesn’t wait. His cock slams into me with such ferocity that it makes me cry out. My hands claw for something to grab, but there is nothing. There’s just him.

He’s savage. Ruthless. Like I’m just a hole to take his rage. But I want it.

I push back into him, moaning louder with every thrust. My body knows him.