“That’s a good girl.”
Mentally cursing him, she sank down on his cock again and again, so damn wet it was almost embarrassing. Every slice of his dick through her body built the tension inside her. Every whispered and often filthy praise was like a flick to her clit. Every look of carnal promise speared her womb, reminding her what was coming. It became harder and harder to stave off the release edging her way, and she was soon squeezing her eyes shut against the struggle.
“You did good, little witch. Now you can come.”
She sucked in a breath as an avalanche of pleasure tumbled along her soul, electrifying her from the inside out. Her eyes snapped open, and her pace faltered. God, the level of sensation … There might as well have been thousands of tongues, mouths, teeth, fingers, and hands all over her. And her orgasm stole over her in a blind rush.
“My turn.” Cain clamped his hands around her hips and began slamming her on his cock. He then pretty much flayed her soul with euphoria. He kept switching it up—a wave of pure bliss, a stroke of pleasure/pain, dark lashes of sensation.
Her lungs burned for air. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. Her nerve-endings were on fire, sensitive to even the air itself.
Her mind became all fuzzy and foggy … until she felt disconnected from her body yet felt every single physical touch so much more acutely.
She wouldn’t last. She couldn’t. Wynter didn’t even get the chance to warn Cain—her orgasm swallowed her whole. She burst, broke, imploded, screamed.
She was distantly aware of his fingertips biting into her hips as he slammed her harder onto his dick while punching up his hips to meet each downward thrust. A soft curse escaped him as the first hot rope of his come splashed her inner walls. His shaft throbbed and swelled as he fucked his orgasm into her body.
She slumped forward, panting like a damn racehorse. “I swear, giving up partial rights to my soul was worth it just for the soul-gasms.”
Feeling his lips twitch, Cain swept a hand up her sleek back. “And to think I almost had Dantalion cover for me that day you came to the mansion looking for residency.”
She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “You did?”
Cain nodded. “My mood was … not good. I was tempted to retreat my garden for a few hours. If I had, it would have been him you made a deal with.” Cain twisted his mouth. “It would not have been easy to convince him to give me his rights to your soul, but I’d have somehow managed it.”
Her brows snapped together. “Wait,givethem to you?”
Cain felt this brow arch. “You think I’d have allowed anyone else to own any rights to any part of you?”
Sitting up straighter, she gave her head a little shake. “I mean, how could he have given them to you?”
“Ancients can trade souls, or even the partial rights we hold to them. Dantalion doesn’t have an undead soul in his collection, so he wouldn’t have parted with half of yours easily no matter what person in my service I offered him in exchange.”
“Wouldn’t I have had some say in the matter?”
“No, because once you give up that half of your soul, you no longer have a say in what happens to it.”
“You never mentioned that before.”
“I figured it was obvious.” Cain used his thumb to smooth away the line that furrowed her brow. “Don’t worry, sweet witch, I’d never give away my rights to your soul. They will never belong to anyone but me.”
She swallowed. “Even if this thing we have ends?”
“Even then. But it won’t end. I won’t let it. I thought I made that clear.”
“You did,” said Wynter, putting a placatory hand on his chest, not liking how his expression had hardened. “It’s not that I doubt your honesty. It’s just that, well, things don’t always work out the way we want them to.” It was a lesson she’d learned early.
“But sometimes they do. And this will.”
He said it so simply, so resolutely, it made her chest ache. Though she believed he meant every word, she couldn’t quite conjure up enough faith to also believe that her secrets would change nothing between them. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am. So often that it’s irritating, according to Seth.” His eyes flitted over her face, warm and intent. “Too beautiful for words.”
“That was a nice thing to say. You’re quite the looker, too. For an old guy.”
Humor lit his eyes. “An old guy?”
“Well, youdopredate the Bible.”