Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire 1)
Page 72Oh no, the guy had better not be telling her that he’d just dropped from the floor above her. But that wicked smile on his lips said . . .
Eve grabbed his arm and yanked him fully inside her room. “You’re crazy!”
His eyes flickered. “Yes.”
Not exactly the response she’d expected. Eve backed away from him.
“I should probably be staying the hell away from you,” he said, his voice low and growling, “but I can’t.” His gaze raked her. “Sometimes, I feel like I need you more than I need f**king air.”
The words were dark. No, he was dark. A big, dangerous shadow who stalked her across the room.
Eve was too conscious of the rumpled bed that waited behind her—and of her own need. Whenever Cain was around, she needed.
“I can’t leave you again.” The words held a ragged edge. “I think you might be the only thing keeping me sane.”
That scared the hell out of her. But when he advanced on her, Eve didn’t retreat. Not that time. She put her hand on his chest. “What happens to you?”
His head tilted to the side. His body was warm. So big.
Fire.
“When you burn, Cain, what happens?” She’d wanted to ask before, but now nothing held her back. She wanted to know everything about him. Good. Bad.
Just as he knew everything about her.
His gaze slid over her and she felt it like a touch of his hands. “There are some things that you’re better off not knowing.”
Not this. “Where do you go?” The twist in her gut already told her.
“Hell.”
The shake of her head was an instinctive denial. Not him. No.
“What is—” It like?
“More pain that you can ever imagine. Screams that don’t stop. Agony that rips me apart.”
He did this every time he burned? His heart pounded in a strong, steady beat beneath her fingertips. “Is that why, when you come back, you don’t seem to know me?” She hated when he looked at her with only fury and fire in his eyes.
Just as she hated that Trace’s eyes now showed only the beast.
As Cain stared at her, there was a tenderness in his gaze. A sadness. “Sometimes, I don’t know my own damn self. I only know hate. Fury. The fire.”
He was . . . darker each time. She’d felt that darkness growing.
“I have to fight to find myself again.” He exhaled slowly. “But the last time, the last two times, I knew you when I came back. Not your name, just . . . you.”
Eve wasn’t sure what that meant.
“You kept me in control.”
Uh-oh. That had been control? If that had been a controlled Cain, Eve didn’t want to see him without his restraint.
“Because you’re mine.”
Her heart lurched at that. “Cain . . .”
He stood before her. The back of her knees hit the bed.
“I climbed out of hell for you. To come back to you. When I rose, I wanted to kill everyone around me—anyone who stood between us.” His words were so fierce. “I’m not . . . safe, Eve. I’ve known that my whole life. Each time I die, I always know I could be a rising away from insanity. From not ever remembering who I am and letting the beast loose to kill and burn.”
“You haven’t hurt me.” He hadn’t. Not even when he’d been in that cage at Genesis. Subject Thirteen. The man with the wild eyes and the leashed power.
“I can’t.” The words seemed dragged from him. “I need you too much. If anything happened to you . . .”
“If you die, you can’t rise. You can’t come back to me.”
She caught his hand and pressed it over her heart. “I won’t leave you.” Didn’t he understand? She’d been trying to protect him for so long. The story, the press, the days with the cops—all of it had been to protect him.
But he’d come back. Even though he could have just vanished, he’d found her. He’d put himself at risk for her.
“You deserve better.” His words were gritted out.
And Cain deserved more than hell and madness.
“I want you.” As she stared into his eyes, she saw the wildness flare. Saw the struggle for him to hold on to his control.
Screw control. For them both. Maybe they should rely a little less on control and more on need. Lust.
Trust.
Love?
She pushed him back.
Cain’s eyes widened and he began to shake his head. “Eve . . .”
Did he think she was telling him no? She’d never tell him no. Not Cain. Not her dark lover.
Not the man who’d walked through hell for her. Literally.
She dropped to her knees before him. She didn’t fear his beast. Didn’t fear the man.
He’d given her pleasure before, held himself back to make sure the wild rush was hers. Now, it was her turn.
Her hands reached for the snap of his jeans. The zipper eased down between her fingers.
His c**k pushed toward her, fully erect, the head already gleaming with a drop of moisture. The width of his c**k was easily bigger than her wrist. Wide, long.
She licked her lips—then she licked him.
His breath hissed out even as his hands lowered to wrap around her shoulders. “You don’t have to—”
Another slow lick. Then she eased back, just enough to look up into his eyes. “I want to.” Still meeting his eyes, she kissed his flesh again. Opened her lips. Her tongue tasted the moisture on the tip of his arousal.
Tangy. Masculine.
She’d be having more, please.
Her mouth widened even as her left hand circled the base of his erection. She took his c**k between her lips, sucked lightly, and pumped with her hand.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders. His hips pushed toward her. So eager.
She liked him this way. Cain didn’t need to worry about control. Right then, she had it.
It took Eve a moment to realize that her own hips were rocking up with each stroke of her tongue over his flesh.
Tasting him turned her on so much.
She took him deeper into her mouth. Learned where he liked for her to lick. To suck.
“Eve . . .” There was a warning note in his voice.