I wanted this.
But I also didn’t want this.
His door was cracked, and I could see the light from the fire glow against the walls and form shadows in the corners. I pressed my palm against the mahogany wood and gave it a gentle push. It swung inward without making a sound, the house solidly built with Italian craftsmanship and quality.
The blankets had been yanked to the bottom so only the sheets and pillows remained behind. He had a large hearth that faced his bed, and it was nearly as big as the one in his living room. With white paneling and original moldings, it looked like a fireplace for a king. A painting hung above it, a naked woman lying in a field of sunflowers. Instead of finding the image gratuitous, I actually liked it. With a lazy expression, she looked up into the light filtering through the oak tree just above her, butterflies flitting around her. It represented peace, a stage of existence I couldn’t recall anymore. I was jealous of this woman, of her peaceful acceptance of life and death.
Cane walked out of the bathroom in his black boxers. His cock pressed against the front, a noticeable bulge that was impossible not to command attention. He was definitely bigger than Tristan, bigger than all the others.
I doubted I could even take it.
A nearly empty glass of scotch was in his hand. I hardly ever saw him in the evenings without the amber liquid somewhere nearby. He never seemed affected by the amount of alcohol in his system. Maybe he was drunk all the time, and I’d never met the sober version of Cane.
He downed the contents that remained and left it on the dresser as he walked toward the bed. His eyes roamed over my body like he’d never seen me before. They focused on my tits, the attribute he seemed most interested in. His mouth was usually sealed around my nipple, and he gave it a playful bite. His eyes slowly moved down my figure, traveling down my stomach and to the other part of my body he was most obsessed with. “I’m not gonna wait anymore. You understand me?” He dropped his boxers, revealing his rock-hard cock and the vein that throbbed along his shaft. His hand circled the base of his cock, and he rubbed himself slightly as he looked at me.
I would much rather spend the night with Cane than return to the psychopath that got off to hitting me just as much as fucking me. “Yes.” I walked to the bed on my own, feeling my tits shake as I walked. His eyes were on me the entire time, practically burning me with just his stare. I felt the sheets with my fingertips and remembered how soft they were when I slept with him the night before. “How do you want me?” When he didn’t answer me right away, I looked up to meet his gaze.
He stared me down with a harder expression than before, a searing gaze that was hot enough to char meat. His hand released his thick cock and moved to his side, but his length stuck out like a sword about to stab someone.
My heart was pounding so hard it shook my chest. My lips suddenly felt dry, like I needed his kiss to make them soft once more. I was scared but oddly aroused at the same time. None of it made sense.
Cane never answered me and chose to walk around the bed until his chest was pressed to my back. He pressed his cock between my ass cheeks, his lubricated head leaking against my lower back. His hands moved to my shoulders, and he gave them a gentle squeeze before he pressed a kiss to my neck.
Tristan preferred to take me from behind when he didn’t care about watching me cry. He spanked my ass with his palm or a whip, leaving marks that still hadn’t gone away. They were taking forever to fade. Maybe they would never go away.
Cane placed kisses along my neck and down my spine. He pressed his large palm against my back and slowly guided me forward on the bed, allowing his mouth to move lower and lower until he kneeled at the bed. His mouth moved all the way down my cheeks, over my ass, and to my pussy.
He kissed me there with gentle caresses, stroking my clit with his tongue as well as his lips.
I closed my eyes and squeezed my lips together, forgetting all the fears I had for this moment. Now all I could do was feel, appreciate that experienced mouth against my throbbing clit.
His large hands moved up and down my thighs and gripped my ass cheeks. He’d been waiting a week to have me, and now that he could, he was still taking his time. He wanted to make me feel good, make me wet.