Paradise Fought: AbelBy: L.B. Dunbar
“I want you to remember,” I growled. “Remember where I’ve been. Who I am.” My fingers took on a life of their own and they worked hard, digging deeper into a tender cavern of warmth, wet and ripe for me. My thumb flicked over the sensitive pear outside of her. She inhaled. Nails gripped into hard skin. She didn’t have claws, not my girl, but she was latching onto me. That’s exactly what I wanted.
“Tell me you didn’t forget,” I whispered, my voice dropping as my pace continued. She didn’t answer me and I stopped. The blue rivers turned to ice as she glared at me. I was the devil and I would break this reunion if she didn’t play my game.
She shook her head, refusing to speak. I pulled out of her quickly, feeling the release of her juices as they dripped down her leg. Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Then she said my name. It was hardly more than a squeak, a plea, a question. Her nails began to release me. Fingers peeled upward from my skin. I was going to lose her.
Fingers slammed back into her and her head gently fell back. She sucked in a harsh breath as I demanded she remember. Without words, I wanted her to feel what I had done to her. Only me.
I worked fast and her fingers lay back against my warm skin. Nails returned to make tender impressions on my shoulder. She could mark me. I wouldn’t care. She’d already scarred my heart.
“Cain?” she questioned, but I knew the answer. She was ready to burst. Her tender fruit had been plucked and she wanted what came next. That first bite. The sound of my name almost undid me, but it would take more than that for me to be satisfied. For her, the flick of my thumb unleashed her. Nails burrowed deep, her eyes shuddered closed, and her head tipped back. She clenched hard, squeezing my hand between her thighs. My dick practically danced to be in between them, but I had been the king of denial. I would not have her yet. This was only a reminder.
As my attention slowed, and I spread fingers through folds so wet they dripped, my forehead came to hers.
“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. I wanted her to remember. My heart fell to my stomach as I held my breath.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”
I pulled back in surprise, my eyes opened wide. My expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.
“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting my eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my hand retreating from under it. She pushed the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.
“I’ll never forget…that you’re an asshole.” Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me and what I’d done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an asshole.