Hold
Page 13
She frowned, caressing the side of his flat belly. “You were not an animal. I saw who you really were. I knew you were strong but I could also see your…your humanness. That’s why I chose you.”
“Maybe you saw a glimmer of it but there wasn’t much left at that point. When I first saw you, I wanted you so much. You were so beautiful and brave and untouched by the grim reality of the Hold. You were the only light I’d seen in that whole dark year. I wanted it so I just took it.”
He’d never shared so much about how he’d felt the first time he’d saw her or what his motivation in coming to fight for her had been. Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Riana was moved by his admission. And she felt a little thrill of girly delight that she’d provoked such a reaction in this strong, incredible man.
“You didn’t take it,” she objected. “I offered it to you. Would you have come out of your cell at all if I hadn’t let you know I wanted you to?”
“No,” he admitted slowly.
“See. Stop beating yourself up. You weren’t perfect—you were terse and kind of pushy at first. But I wasn’t perfect either. And if I had been in that prison by myself for a year, I would have been a lot less human than you were with me.”
He didn’t respond but one of his hands had slid down to cup her bottom.
“I love you, Cain,” she murmured, leaning up so she could look down at his face. Her hair spilled down around both of them. “I fell in love with you in that prison. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone who had just selfishly taken what he wanted from me. You gave as much as you took.”
For just a moment, his eyes looked almost anguished and desperate. “I hope so.”
Realizing that she wasn’t going to be able to talk him into believing her, she leaned down to kiss him—deeply, softly, lovingly. He responded immediately, his hands clutching at her and his mouth opening hungrily to hers.
When she broke off the kiss, she murmured against his mouth, “Are you happy, Cain?”
“You know I’m happy. That’s where all the guilt comes from.”
She kissed him again, brushing her fingers along the tight skin of his scalp, feeling the light texture of the dark hair he still shaved close. “How happy are you?”
He didn’t want to release her lips but when he finally broke off to breathe he said thickly, “I feel like every dream I’ve ever had—even the ones I never knew I wanted—has come true.”
She wanted to melt from pure joy and tenderness. She rubbed her body against his hard one, realizing he had grown more erect. “Me too,” she breathed, kissing little lines around his face. “That’s how happy I am too. I was lonely and aimless all my life. And you’re the one who has helped me change that. If I’m this happy to be with you, why should you ever feel guilty about it?”
Cain had grabbed her hips and was holding her pelvis against his, and she gave a pleased mew at the feel of his erection against her groin. “Good question,” he muttered, giving a little buck up into her.
Deciding the time for discussion had passed, Riana pulled her little nightgown off over her head so she was naked to the open air and night sky. Cain reached up to cup and fondle her breasts as she pushed down his pants to free his cock.
She was fully aroused by the time she lined up over him and slid down to sheathe his erection with her pussy. She rode him slowly for a minute, rocking over his supine form and taking sensual enjoyment in the feel of his cock sliding inside her.
He lay still and watched her move, his eyes never leaving her face and bare body.
After a few minutes though, his body grew tighter and his hands closed down hard around her hips. “Riana,” he said thickly, “can you come, baby?”
She didn’t really care if she came or not. Her heart was too full of everything else to feel particularly urgent about an orgasm. So she leaned over and whispered, “If you want to take over, you can.”
Evidently, Cain wanted to take over. He flipped them over, holding her body in place so his cock didn’t slip out of her slick channel. Then he began to thrust from between her legs. When she bent her knees, he grabbed them and pushed them closer to her chest.
Riana gasped at feeling him inside her from this new angle and from the way he was forcefully shaking her body against the soft ground.
Cain’s face had broken out in a sheen of perspiration, and he was gazing down at her with hunger and love. “So good,” he gritted out. “So beautiful. So good.”
She whimpered at his words and at the intensifying sensations at her center. She knew how much he loved her, needed her, adored her—and she’d never known what it was for someone to feel that way for her before. The way their love had begun might have made things more complicated it didn’t change the reality of it now.
And she was going to come. Knowing that he loved her. And knowing that she loved him.
Her body tightened in preparation as his thrusting became fast and hard.
Then she cried out wordlessly as the tension shattered inside her, her body shaking and clenching and pulling him into climax as well.
He claimed her lips as he came, groaning into her mouth and stroking her lips clumsily with his tongue. She kissed him back, still whimpering out the pleasure of her orgasm.
They lay together in a sated tangle of naked limbs until barking interrupted the quiet night.
Riana giggled as she turned her head to see a large brown dog approaching at a dead run.
“You’ve got to teach him,” she said, squeezing Cain with her arms and her legs, “That I’m not in trouble every time I scream.”
Cain chuckled too, the delicious vibrations from his amusement shaking his whole body. “He gets worried. Max is a very devoted dog.”
Riana had been astonished and delighted when she’d learned that the dog Cain had loved so deeply was still alive. She’d assumed from the way he’d spoken about him that the dog had died.
But Max was still alive. And Cain’s business partner—the man who had generously kept the ranch going during Cain’s long absence—had also made sure Max was well taken care of.
She’d almost cried that first day, when Cain had been reunited with the dog who clearly adored him. She’d had to make a quick exit, so Cain wouldn’t see her overcome with such silly emotion.
But Max did have an unfortunate habit of coming to the rescue any time she cried out in some way. If she was genuinely in trouble, it would be very convenient. But most of the times she was crying out with an entirely different emotion.
Max snuffled around Riana’s face to assure himself that she was all right. She patted him on the head and Cain gave him instructions to lie down a short distance from their blanket.
Cain’s cock had softened inside her and his semen was leaking out of her pussy, but she didn’t want to move and she didn’t want to let go of him. She loved the feel of his weight. Loved the sight of the clear sky—endless and vibrant above her. And she loved the tender security of knowing she was in Cain’s arms. She was home.
Out of the blue, she asked, “When you fought Thorn for me and brought me back into your cell, if I had said no, I didn’t want to fuck you, would you have forced me anyway? Or would you have thrown me out of the cell if I refused?”
It took Cain a long time to answer. He nuzzled at her neck and breathed deeply as he considered his response. Then he said, “No. I was pretty far gone then, almost an animal, but I would never have forced you or thrown you out.”
It was an admission she’d needed Cain to make. For him, not for herself.
She’d already known.
Riana had picked the right man in those first minutes in the Hold. If she’d picked anyone else to protect her, to give her body to, her life would have been utterly different. She wouldn’t have had this future.
She wouldn’t have Cain.
So she held on to him, as tightly as he was holding on to her. And she knew neither one would let go.
But she spoke in a teasing, victorious
voice that made Cain growl. And all she said was, “That’s what I thought.”
About the Author
Zannie Adams writes, reads, and caters to her chocolate-brown cocker spaniel, and watches cooking shows on television. She has lived in eight different states, had far too much graduate-level education, and generally done her best not to settle down. She has been writing novels all her life, but only recently did she begin to write erotic romances—a genre that has allowed her to explore her love of both passion and commitment.
Zannie prefers to spend most of her time writing, but she has to stop occasionally to teach writing and literature at a liberal arts college and to walk her dog. She lives in the Midwest.
Zannie welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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