A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (20 page)

"Baby, no," Cain pleads softly, his eyes anguished as he tries to touch my cheek, but I turn my back on him.  "Evan, please."

"Go to hell, Cain," I hiss.

"I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry." He stands behind me whispering it into my hair over and over, and when I think about what his breath on my neck would have done to me just five minutes ago, it only hurts more.  I feel lost, used, cheated.

"Baby, please look at me."  He steadies me with his hands so he can slip between me and the wall, forcing me to face him, but I just stare at the ground.

"How much did you hear?" he asks.  "Damn it, Evan!  Talk to me!" 

"Everything!" I spit.  "Is that what you want to hear me say?  I heard everything!"

"I'm so sor..."

"Shut up, Cain!  How hard would it have been to just push her away before I came out of the bathroom?  How hard would it have been to introduce me rather than letting that asshole treat me like the catch of the day?  Why is he here?" 

"Steph has a pass through the distillery.  He's my cousin, and before he opened his goddamned mouth, I was trying to handle Elizabeth delicately. I would never intentionally hurt you, Evan.  You have to know that."

"I thought I did, then your fiancé showed up and called me a whore while you did nothing!" I attack when inside all I want is to get back to the way we felt before Elizabeth ruined everything.  Cain's behavior probably wasn't as bad in reality as it is in my mind, but my issues won't let me back down.  I've been unforgivably wronged, and the gods of wounded pride must be appeased.

"I didn't do nothing!  I threw her out!" he shouts

"Eventually," I hiss, and defeated, Cain drops to his knees

"You're right," he says, looking up into my eyes, his face a mask of sorrow.  In one hand, he still holds the key, and in the other, he holds his phone.  "I fucked up...again.  I don't deserve you, Evan."

"Now you're just being a dick," I complain.

"I'm being honest," he says.  "I didn't forget about you for a second." He lets the key drop and dangle on the chain, holding his right hand up to show me the deep impression left by clutching it tightly the entire time.

"Please, Evan.  Tell me how to fix this," he says, taking my hand in his.  "I'll do anything.  I'll bring you Steph's head...Liz' head." I know it's an idle threat, but the combination of feeling the key's impression on his palm and the intent behind his brutal offer has a strange power over me.

"I don't want her head," I say, fighting a smile.

"Then I'll bring you her heart.  Anything to never see this look in your eyes again.  Please forgive me." 

"Move your thumb," I say as I notice that there is a call in progress on his phone.  He obeys, and I hear the sound of a woman's cries come shrieking out.  It's clearly Elizabeth, and while he blocked the speaker so I didn't hear her, she heard everything he just said to me.

I look down at him, so vulnerable, begging on his knees before me, and all the pain, wrath, and humiliation drain away.  I pull him up by a fistful of the front of his shirt into my arms, and as he holds me so tight it forces the air from my lungs, I know that none of this has the power to change anything between us.

"I mean it, Evan, every word," he says, dabbing away the last evidence of my tears with his fingers.  "I don't give a fuck about Liz or anyone else.  You're all that matters to me."

"Let's get out of here," I breathe the words, looking up into pale blue eyes as I snatch his phone and press the red button to end the call.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers, my face in his hands.  He kisses me sweetly, then leads me by the hand back out into the suite where Steph stands alone, watching the game through the window.

"Man, I didn't mean..." he says as he approaches us, but he's cut off by Cain's fist knocking him across the room.

"I deserved that," Steph admits, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Give me your car keys, asshole," Cain demands, and Steph hands them over unquestioningly.

"I really am sorry," he calls out as we head to the door.

"Fuck off, Steph," Cain shouts back.

We hurry through the hallways toward the exit, past Lucy at the limo, and in a reserved space, we find Steph's shiny, red tiny-penis-maker-upper. Though flashy for my taste, at least it's fast as it flies down Friars Road toward the interstate.  We're seven miles from my house, but right now miles seem like light years.

Going past the turn that would take us to the 8, Cain brings the Lamborghini to a dead stop in the middle of the road in front of a hotel.  He asks me with his eyes if he should pull in, and with a flash of mine, I say yes.  He drives under the awning of the main entrance and gets out of the car, rushing to my side faster than the valet.  They talk, and the kid hurries off as Cain opens my car door.

"No bags," he says tossing the car keys to the other valet, not even waiting for a ticket.

"Very good, Mr. Ballantyne." 

Okay.  They know him here.  I can torment myself thinking of all the reasons for it, or I can try to keep a level head.  The hotel is close to the stadium...where he has a suite...
I'm trying, but when Cain is immediately handed a keycard as we walk through the lobby without having to stop, I'm having a little more trouble ignoring the possible reasons.

Please don't let it be that he has brought so many women here, he has a standing procedure!
 

"You come here often?" I ask, trying to make it sound like a joke as he leads me past the standard elevators and into a vestibule guarded by a man in a black suit who stops a pair in front of us to see their keycard as he waves Cain and I through to the elevators exclusively for the upper level rooms.

"I come here all the time," he finally answers my question when the elevator doors shut behind us, but as soon as he sees the reaction on my face, he stops teasing.  "I own the hotel, Ev, and before you even think it, I have never brought a woman here."

"I find that hard to believe," I say as he presses the button for the top floor.

"My apartment is ten minutes away.  Only you could make me this impatient," Cain says, pulling me to him.

The suite is amazing, but Cain gives me no time to explore, picking me up like a bride and carrying me to a palatial marble bathroom.  He takes off his shirt, and though I didn't see him put it on, the chain with the chastity belt key now hangs from his neck.

"Just to clarify," he says, holding up the key.  "This means you are willing to submit to me, right?"

"Yes, but tonight..."

"Tonight, I'm going to take care of you, Evan.  It isn't all about domination and punishment.  Come here."  He sits on the edge of the tub and undresses me slowly, kissing me in the wake of my clothes, chasing my bra past my nipples, pulling me toward his face as my panties drop.  When I'm naked, he leads me to the shower and washes me methodically, knowing where a woman should not use the sweet-scented body wash in the small, courtesy bottle from the ledge.

When he's finished, he detaches the showerhead, rinsing me head to toe, leaving him on his knees before me, the streams of water from the side jets hitting him while I block the main.  Relaxed, I lean back against the shower wall as he lifts my right foot, and I suddenly feel a foreign sensation that causes my eyes to fly open wide.  I look down and see his tongue on my toes.  It's only at the tips at first, but he soon begins taking them entirely into his mouth, making the same circles with his tongue that feel so good elsewhere.  I don't know if it's physical or driven by the thought of this powerful man literally worshipping at my feet, but it's as if there's a direct line to my clit.

Slowly, he works his way up to my knees, his every touch like electricity shooting up the nerves, flooding me with excitement.  When he reaches the top of my thigh, I'm ravenous for what I think is coming next, but instead he turns me around to face the wall.  He stands up behind me, twisting my wet hair around his hand, holding it out of his way as he starts kissing my ear, my neck, down my spine, letting my hair fall along with him as he goes.  It's unimaginable torture, and I'm so lost in the sensation that I startle when I feel him biting my ass cheek just below where my hair now hangs free.  Then he pulls me away from the wall by the hips, pushing my legs apart, my feet sliding outward on the slick, marble floor until they reach the sides of the stall.

He turns off the water and hits the steam, and as the stall fills with warm mist, I feel him on his knees behind me, his tongue entering me.  It seems like such a dirty, forbidden act to me that I'm overwhelmed, moaning softly, urging Cain on.  He pulls me backward into his mouth, his tongue somehow finding my clit as his hands grasp my hips, his fingernails dug into my skin as he forces me to let go of any lingering fear that I won't be able to come like this.

The heavy steam is blinding and the air hot and thick in my lungs as Cain's magnificent tongue relentlessly assaults me, circling and bearing down on my clit until I'm screaming his name, grasping for something to hold onto as my hands slip down the wet, marble walls.  Disoriented by the steam, Cain steadies me with his hands as he keeps pushing me, pleasure and extreme sensitivity coming in alternating waves until one wins out over the other.

Giving me no reprieve, he shoves me into the wall as he rises up my body, his cock, hard as the marble all around us, sliding against my leg until he thrusts it inside me, fucking me as the heat in the stall becomes unbearable.  He turns off the steam, and as it dissipates, I realize how much I'm sweating.  It's pouring down my face from my forehead as water drips down my back, but when I look up to find that it isn't the showerhead, I realize with a white hot flash that what I've been feeling isn't water at all.  It's Cain, raining down upon me as he fucks me, and
oh, my God!
  My eyes roll back in my head and my entire body shudders at the very thought of being bathed in his sweat, bringing me to a sudden, frenzied end.

"Oh, my God, Cain!  Oh, my God...oh, my God..."  I cry out, high and wild as the orgasm overpowers me.  Cain slows his pace, his thrusts becoming deep and deliberate, but I have no patience.  I want to make him feel what I feel, like a helpless victim of his decadent will.  I push back with my ass, and grabbing his hand from my hip, I guide his index and middle fingers between my legs, gliding over my clit.  As I feel his cock tighten inside me, I shove the fingers toward his mouth, and in a low, sultry purr, I order him to suck them.  With my taste on his tongue, he thrusts hard one final time, pinning me to the wall as he chants my name like an invocation of an ancient, pagan goddess of sex and love whose sole raison d'être is making him come.

"God, I love fucking you," he breathes, his face lost in my wet hair as he holds me against the wall, and I echo it, wishing the words were just slightly rearranged.