Page 54 of Cain

My belly twisted.

My heart galloped.

Then his hands shifted from my hips to sink into my ass, pulling me up his legs until I was straddling his lap.

A soft gasp escaped me as the juncture of my thighs rested against the hard press of his desire.

When my gaze met his, I found his eyes so heavy they almost looked closed. When his gaze triangulated from my eyes to my lips and back again, my heart went all gooey in my chest.

I wasn’t conscious of telling my body to move, but my hands slid up his shoulders, his neck, then framed his face.

His hands did an involuntary flex on my butt, and the little movement gave me all the encouragement I needed to close the distance and gently press my lips to his.

A sound—more growl than groan—worked its way out of him.

Then he was taking control of the kiss—pressing harder, deeper, like he had something to prove and was determined to get his point across.

As for me, I just turned into a puddle.

I was pulse and ache and soft whimpers as his tongue slid between my lips to toy with mine.

My hips did a little shift, and the friction of his hard length against me had me breaking the kiss to lean my head back and moan.

Cain took the opportunity to lean forward, his lips going to my neck, making little sparks explode across each inch he explored.

That only had my hips moving again, some innate movement that I couldn’t have controlled if I wanted to.

And I didn’t.

Want to.

All I wanted was more. More of this. More of whatever he had to offer me.

Just… more.

Cain’s hands shifted me up slightly, making him press against me at exactly the right angle, making a deep, aching sound escape me—a sound I didn’t even recognize as one I could make.

I didn’t recognize the sensations moving through me right then. I felt on fire, trembling, tight, and floaty all at once.

Cain’s hands kept rocking me against him, but it wasn’t long before I found the rhythm I liked. Then my own hips took over, keeping the pace and pressure that brought a tight, airless sensation taking over my chest as my face went unbearably feverish, and all my muscles tensed so hard they shook.

That rumble moved through Cain again as I leaned forward, my face in his neck, moaning against his skin.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t try to take over.

He just let me continue to do what felt best for me.

“That’s it,” he murmured as my movements got faster, as my moans became quick, frantic whimpers.

And it was.

It.

The pleasure moved through me like a shot—too fast to track, violent in its intensity.

All I could do was gasp and shake and let it work its way through my system.