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All the while, Cain watched me with eyes so heated I was surprised they didn’t burn my clothes right off my body.

He stayed stock-still, though, until I was done exploring his stomach and chest and was touching his arms again.

Then he leaned back down, grabbing me behind the knees, and tossing me back on the bed.

Everything about him was desperate then, borderline rough, as he tugged my pants down and off. Then he did the same with my panties, pulling so hard I heard the seams rip.

That sound had even more need rolling through me.

Finished, Cain grabbed me by the shins and pushed my legs in toward my chest, his hungry gaze on my face until he spread my legs wide. Then his gaze slipped down. Like he couldn’t help himself. Like there was nothing else he’d rather look at right then.

A deep breath escaped him as he released one of my legs to reach between my thighs and tease my clit with his thumb as two fingers slid deep inside me.

A choked moan escaped me at that, making his gaze shoot back to my face, watching me as he started to thrust his fingers.

I was shameless then, my back arching, my hips wiggling, my moans getting louder with each passing moment.

“That’s it,” he murmured as my walls tightened around his fingers. “Come for me.”

And I did, crying out as my body crashed over and over.

Before I could fully come back down, though, Cain was down on his knees, and his mouth was on me. All the while, his fingers continued to thrust, giving me more of the delicious friction I was craving.

As the moments ticked on, though, I knew it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until I felt his weight pressing down on me, until he was slotting between my thighs, until he was surging inside me, until our bodies were moving together.

Determined to have exactly that, my hand that was resting on the back of his neck slipped into his hair and pulled.

“Cain,” I called, my voice airy.

He lifted up, a question in his eyes.

I kept pulling at his hair as my other hand went to his arm, tugging, until he moved over me, until he lowered down.

A soft cry escaped me at the feel of him pressing me into the mattress, the crush of him against my breasts, the wicked pleasure of feeling his body resting between my spread thighs.

His lips claimed mine as he shifted his hips, making his hard length rub against me. My cry was muffled by his mouth as I rocked shamelessly against him for a moment.

But that wasn’t what I wanted either.

I tugged at his pants, but I couldn’t make them budge.

“Baby,” he murmured in my ear, his tone something close to a rejection.

“Please,” I begged, the ache inside so intense I almost wanted to cry.

“You’re hurt.”

“You’ll make me feel better.”

That got the rumble out of him again, and I knew I had him even before he sat back then shifted backward until he was standing again.

His gaze was focused on me as his hand went into his back pocket, tossing his wallet to the bed. It was immediately forgotten as his hands went to his button and zipper, working them free, then pushing his jeans off his hips.

A needy sound worked its way out from between my lips at the sight of his hardness straining the material of his boxer briefs.

But when he slid those down and his full length sprang free, I needed to press my thighs together to ease the ache, to calm the need to feel him filling me.

Cain hesitated, watching me.