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“Is the woman that he’s watching cry. . .about to die from love?”

“No, but he thinks that he might die from her love.”

“And that’s why he’s sad?”

“That’s why he’s happy.”

Every time I thought I could get a clearer picture of what the song meant, I found that I was further away from understanding it.

With his free hand, Cain ran his fingers through his hair and stepped back. “Finish up.”

I obliged, turning back to the shower and rinsing all of the soap away.

He barked at me, “And make sure your feet are clean.”

With my back to him, I rolled my eyes.

The song repeated.

Movement sounded on the side.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Cain picked my clothes off the floor, grabbed a huge robe, and then walked over to me.

I made sure the soap was gone and my feet were clean.

Next, I shut the shower off.

When I stepped outside of the shower, he tossed me the thick, heavy robe. “Put this on.”

I caught the robe and raised it in front of me to get a better view. It was so big, it probably could have covered a small bed.

This has to be his robe.

I put it on and the huge cotton garment almost swallowed me whole. I wrapped the belt tight around me, trying to form it around my waist.

When I was finished, I stood straight and looked back at him. The sleeves fell down past my hands. The bottom of the robe spread out around my feet as if I had on a massive cape. The front leaned forward.

I look ridiculous.

For the first time, a tickled expression covered his face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

He walked off.

Where is this going?

I followed Cain, dragging a trail of the robe with me.

This time, when we passed Noah’s doggy room, Cain slung my clothes in there along with the rope into it.

Noah yipped with excitement, rushed to it, and began sniffing it.

Wait a minute. Is he making sure the dog has my scent?

Noah wagged his tail as he bit at the bodysuit’s crotch.

What the hell?

Chapter 6

Wicked Temptation

Cain

I

need to get rid of her soon.

The longer I kept Phoenix here, the worse I would become.

Having Phoenix in here incited madness.

I yearned to cut her open with a sharp knife and draw blood. The whole time she walked around my place, I kept envisioning putting a tiny slit in her throat. Very small. Just a tiny slit to let a few beads of blood appear.

I could take the surgical instruments out tonight. It’s been so long.

My dick swelled in my pants. It had gone stiff since the hotel room and had only softened a little. Merely enough to walk around without it pushing high up against my pants.

I could imagine myself smearing her blood all over my chest, my cock. Jacking off with it. Mixing the blood with my semen. Staining her and me.

I wanted to bathe in her blood.

Stop it.

My growing fascination with blood scared me. I’d already ventured too far into the darkness, but there had to be limits to the blackness of this world—the godforsaken cruelty.

No. I can’t cut her. It would feel too good. I might not stop myself from going further.

And it could become a thing.

Like my other activities had become a thing.

In the bathroom, it was hard for me to control myself, difficult to not slice her up in the shower.

I relished in the view of her wet nudeness. Every inch of her body was smooth, soft, and silky. Even her pussy was shaved.

I loved the way her big breasts protruded from her rib cage.

That fueled my imagination more.

The appeal of cutting her was so strong. Like her blood called to me. It taunted the deep-rooted primal instincts of me—the wild animal side.

The color of blood—so passionately red—it did things to me. It was a rosy glow of liquid from a beating heart.

And blood was life and death. It was pain and healing.

I hadn’t confirmed this yet, but I was sure that the sight of blood on a beautiful woman could make me unbearable horny.

In that mode, it would be hard to control myself.

That was why I kept our jobs in the strip club as non-violent as possible. I still didn’t know what this fascination with blood and death was about or if I was ready to keep walking down this path.

I need to cut her. It would be. . .for the friend’s information. . .nothing more.

Yet, I couldn’t deny that it thrilled me to know that I would be playing with the very essence of her life—the blood pumping through her heart.

Fuck.

My brain buzzed with ideas of how to make my fantasies a reality. My black soul delighted at the carnal darkness. So far away from Glory, I could do whatever I wanted to her and no one would know. Not one person would sound an alarm to find her.


Tags: Kenya Wright Romance