Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
“Humans are complicated and full of spiraling emotions. You can’t judge yourself for the past. All you can do is try to do the right thing in the moment.”
“Regardless, I don’t want this.” I pointed to him and then me.
“This?”
“My childhood was shortened. My teenage years were poverty and desperation. I want my adult years to be. . .different. Good. No more struggle. No more. . .crying and sadness. I want normal. Lots and lots of normal.”
“And what is normal?”
“Not falling in love with the person that kidnapped and cut me.” I raised my finger in the air. “That’s normal.”
“Normal means to conform to a standard. But there was no standard given to your life. Or mine.”
“Bullshit, Cain.”
“We have to make our standards from the shredded pieces of our life. Make an abstract art piece of who we want to be. How we want to live. And nothing about that sculpture would be normal.”
“But, I could be normal.”
He grinned. “If you think that, then you’re lying to yourself.”
“I can.”
“You’ve seen more horror than most.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Plus, normal would bore you. It would make you uncomfortable. It would set you on edge.”
“You’re talking about yourself. Not me. I’m not someone to gaslight”
He let out a long breath. “I believe it. I really do. There’s no gaslighting.”
“Quin and I saw this t-shirt and I bought it immediately. You know what it said?” I frowned. “It said, ‘Life is not a fairy tale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.’”
He chuckled. “What?”
“I’m already broken, Cain. I don’t have the hope like you to believe in fairytales.”
“We came together in blood. I’m not that crazy to think this is a fairytale.”
“I think you are that crazy.”
“Regardless.” Still gripping my thighs, he leaned my way and closed the space between us. His face was a few inches from mine. “Don’t cut yourself again. You’re too valuable to me.”
“Then, why do you get to cut me?”
“Because we both love it.”
I pursed my lips tight, not ready to argue with him. Cain had a way of making me see the other side of things and I hated it. Especially when seeing that other side, revealed unknown parts of me.
He whispered, “Phoenix, talk to me.”
“I. . .”
He leaned in closer and brushed his lips against my mouth. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to like it.”
“But you do.”
“I don’t want to cum from you cutting me.”
“But you will. . .over and over and over.” He kissed me, and all I could do was surrender.
His arms wrapped around my body, trapping me to him.
Speechless, I melted in his hold.
Then, he slipped his tongue into my mouth and did loving wet twists. Stroking and caressing.
My mind fogged with lust. I grew helpless and needy. The soft tip of his tongue did wet slow circles that made me weak and I gave up on all of my earlier thinking. I closed my eyes and swam in the sensations of Cain.
His lips were the softest and warmest part of him. And each kiss made me feel like I was part of a secret club of a small few that had ever experienced them.
His hands caressed my skin, my thighs, my ass, with a skill beyond compare.
Unable to control myself, my body shivered in anticipation. He moved his hands over my breasts. My nipples puckered and came to life under his twisting and toying fingers.
My pussy throbbed, hungry for his dick. Ready for him to stretch me.
“Fuck.” He groaned and stepped away.
I blinked. “Don’t stop.”
A wicked smirk spread across his face.
I panted.
He walked away and left the bathroom.
“Cain?” I slid off the sink and followed him, desperate for more of his mouth, those hands, his long, hard dick.
“Why did you stop?” I reached the doorway, spotted him, and froze.
Cain rummaged through his duffle bag.
“What are you doing?”
He pulled out his leather bag—the one holding his knives.
“No.”
He unfolded the leather.
I backed further into the bathroom. “I don’t want to do that.”
He took a large knife out and studied the blade. “Are you sure about that?”
My heart hammered in my chest. Heat flooded my pussy.
I don’t want to like this.
Frantically, I scanned the space to escape.
Right as he turned around and wielded the large knife in his hands, I shut the door fast, locked it, and backed away.
I stared at the door. My hands shook.
Cain’s voice sounded on the other side. “Phoenix, open the door.”
“Put the knife away.”
“I don’t want to.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“Open it, Phoenix.”
“No.” I hugged myself.
What the hell was I thinking? How could I forget who I was dealing with?
Chapter 18
Fight or Flight
CAIN
T
he knife I chose was a new one. I’d bought it the day before I began hunting Phoenix. It was ten inches long. The sharpened blade sloped at the tip. A pattern of hearts had been etched into the silver handle.