He doesn't answer for a long moment, so I continue talking, though filling the silence with inane chatter has never been my go-to. Daddy says silence is often the best tactic to get information out of someone. Give them level eye-contact and remain silent, and a person will spill their deepest secrets, just to escape the discomfort.
My voice comes out a choked whisper. It's all I can manage through the thick knot of emotion lodged in my throat. I feel wretched. Once again, I've stumbled into his life and managed to fuck up just about everything in it. If Kase hadn't loved me, his father would still be alive. If he'd just let me get captured or simply left me alone, he'd still have contact with his family.
"I'm so sorry. You know I'd never mean to..." Put him in danger? Well, that's a fat fucking lie. I knew that I was dragging him into harm's way by contacting him. "I wasn't trying to get between you and your family."
Kase lets out a watery snort. "Cruz has been looking for a reason to cut me off for years. Trust me, he'd have done it a long time ago if it weren't for Uncle Rocco. You're just the most convenient excuse he can come up with."
"But..." I struggle to find the words to express just how unfair this is.
Kase heaves a sigh and lays back so that his head rests in my lap. He stares up at me, and I know I don't deserve the love I see in his eyes. I never dared expect it, hoping only for some kindness from my ex-boyfriend in my hour of need. The tenderness that etches his face brings tears to my eyes. Kase brings up a hand and catches the salty droplets before they can drip from my chin to his face.
"Don't cry, babe. It's fine, really."
"No it's not," I say thickly. "It's not right. He's a bastard."
Kase snorts and a grin flashes across his face. "Yes, he is. But that's nothing to cry over, Brook."
"I'm not worth it. I'm stealing everything from you."
Kase sits up and carefully guides me so that I'm sitting in his lap, not the other way around. I haven't been curled up next to him like this in years, but it still feels natural, like we're two puzzle pieces clicking together, meant to find each other and create a whole. His rough hands rub soothing circles into my back, his skin searingly warm against mine. His stubble tickles my cheek. He's developed some serious five o'clock shadow since we left South Hollens. He probably hasn't had an opportunity to shave since meeting me in the chop shop.
I can’t stop the traitorous tears that fall soundlessly onto his bare chest. I've finally said it out loud, the fear that I've been living with for years. That I came along and wrecked his life just by nature of existing.
"Don't you fucking think that, Brook. It's not true."
"Your father died because of me. If we hadn't..." I hiccup. "Daddy wouldn't have..."
"Maybe not then, but eventually. The feud was going strong when we were still in grade school. Your father hated mine. If not then it would have happened sometime."
He's probably right. For some reason no one has ever learned, our fathers despised each other. Daddy will never tell me the story, even when I beg. It's like even saying the man's name is still enough to infuriate my father. No one mentions it around him unless they want to bear the brunt of his wrath. But even if there's a ring of truth to his words, the guilt is inescapable.
"Yes."
"Yes?" I echo stupidly.
"Yes, you're worth it," he murmurs against my hair. "If I could go back and do it again, even knowing what I'd lose, I'd still go through with it. Never, ever think that I regret loving you."
A fresh wave of tears blinds me, but I manage to pull away from him just enough to tilt my head towards his. I'm not sure which of us initiates the kiss, but as soon as our lips touch, it doesn't matter. His hands find my hair, weaving his fingers inescapably in at the roots, tugging almost to the point of pain. My teeth find his lower lip, pulling until he releases a growl.
In only a few seconds he's got me pressed up against the rough wooden wall of the cabin, trapping me there while he eagerly devours my lips. It's always been this way. Even when we try to be gentle with each other, it always ends up in a tangle of limbs, pulling and biting and clawing at each other, as though we could saitate the feud that's separated us by marking up each other's bodies.
His free hand latches onto my hip, pulling my legs around his waist so that I can feel the hardness pressed between us. The material of the nightgown is thin and my panties are still MIA so the grind of his cock sends pleasure rippling through me. I shouldn't be getting off on it as much as I am, but all thoughts of should-haves and maybe-nots, flee when he's touching me like this.
When he pulls away from me to press his teeth into my collarbone, I'm gasping for air, fingernails, already tracing into his back, tearing off layers of skin. He hisses but doesn't release me. Won't release me until he's brought me to orgasm at least once. In the mood he's in now? It'll probably be more than one. Makeup sex had always been phenomenal. Even though I'm not the one he's angry with, I bet I'm going to reap the rewards of it.
Kase disentangles my legs from around his waist just long enough to roll me beneath him. He doesn't stay on top of me for long. I let out a whine of protest as he stands. I'm not through with him yet. He doesn't appear to be done with me, either because he tugs me to the bottom of the narrow bed, kneeling so that he's between my parted legs. His grin is wicked when he presses nips and hard kisses against my bare thigh, hiking my nightdress up to my waist. I'm already squirming with want by the time that he finally reaches his goal.
His tongue swipes through my folds in a long, languid stroke, tasting me. I squeal when he finally reaches my clit, swollen and throbbing for him. He buries himself between my thighs, so that his stubble tickles other parts of me too, bringing me clean off the bed. I'm panting, overcome with lust. I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone else. He's already brought me to orgasm more than once in the last twenty-four hours and he's going to do it again and again and again. I won't be surprised if he takes me every chance he gets, because while we're here, the outside world doesn't matter. His brother, my father, the men after us, all of it recedes into the distance when he's touching me.
My hands are in his hair, holding him to me while he thrusts two fingers into my pussy mercilessly. His fingers curl around that sweet spot inside of me and I buck into him hard, my release coming hard and fast. But he's not through with me yet. He coaxes me on, tongue and fingers beckoning me forward, inviting me to cum again. And only when he's brought me to a third sobbing, screaming, begging orgasm does he rise from his position.
He climbs onto the bed, hovering over me, his body all leonine grace.
"You done, baby?" he teases, taking in my sprawled position and slightly glazed expression.
"No fucking way," I pant. "Get on your back, lover."
Kase grabs a hold of my waist and effortlessly reverses our positions, coming to rest with me on top, legs splayed around his waist. He's almost too broad for this position. His cock jabs my thigh and just the feel of it against me has my excitement rising again. I wrap my fingers around his cock and guide it to my entrance, easing myself down onto him with a groan. He makes an appreciative sound in the back of his throat and rolls his hips to ease the last few inches of himself inside me. I don't take my eyes off of him as I roll my hips in one languid movement. Having him inside me again feels like fucking Nirvana. I hadn't realized what a hell my life has been without him in it.
