Page 14 of If Cain Were Able

“He was twenty-one in that picture,” I swallow hard, looking down at my lap. Taylor feels like a lifetime ago, though it’s only been two years.

“Fuckboys really are your type, huh?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Cain. You don’t know anything about my type, and you certainly don’t know anything about Taylor.”

“Where is Taylor now, hmm?” This fucker is relentless. “It’s cute that you thought some boy could give you what you need, Kitten.”

I don’t even have a good comeback. Not without lying, and Cain can smell my lies while they’re still forming.

At the time, I thought I loved Taylor. I guess in my own fucked-up way, I did. But I also used him. I was dying inside, and his light was the only thing that reached my darkest parts. I fed off him, and he would’ve let me take his last breath. But I turned against him when it mattered the most, and I will never forgive myself for that.

“Just go,” I finally tell Cain, too weary to play this game with him anymore.

I swear his cock grows harder at the pain in my voice.

“Who was he?” Cain asks coldly, flipping through the rest of my memories.

“Someone who didn’t deserve what I did to him,” I answer truthfully.

“And what exactly did you do to him?” When I don’t answer, Cain unceremoniously tosses the pictures back in the open drawer and then drags his leaking cock back across my stomach. “I’m waiting.”

I decide to switch gears. Cain won’t leave until he gets off, I know that much, and I’ll be damned if I confess my sins to the devil himself. So, I paint Cain a picture and aim my venomous arrow straight at his heart.

“I did everything to him. I left no inch of his body unexplored. I devoured his perfect ass before bending him over the back of the couch and sinking into him. He was exactly what I needed. His heart was soft, but his body was hard. The sounds he made… I’ve never heard anything like them. He was absolute perfection. The best I’ve ever had.”

Cain pulls no punches when he asks, “Did you ever let him top you?”

Godfuckingdammit.

“No,” I whisper.

“Do you know why that is?” he asks with a knowing smile as he pumps lube onto his fingers and slides backwards.

Yes, but I won’t say it.

“Knees up, Kitten,” Cain says when I stay quiet…and my body obeys without question.

Chapter 9

Cain

Ihadn’t planned to fuck him. Not yet. I had simply planned to get us both off, get him addicted again, and ensure he’d show up for his final follow-up, discharge him, and then fuck him.

But he just had to run his mouth. He had to act like some twenty-one-year-old twink could offer more than I can. Patrick may have convinced himself he enjoyed being a top, but he’s a bottom through and through. Even now, his hole is practically beckoning me inside, and I’ve only had him plant his feet on the bed.

He and I both know why he never let Taylor inside him.

Because Patrick has always belonged to me and me alone.

“What about my surgery?” he asks.

“I’m not going to fuck your chest,” I reply. My voice is strained with desire as I take my first swipe over his greedy asshole. Hearing the sharp inhale of pleasure never gets old, and to my absolute delight, it’s accompanied by a whimper. “Besides, you’ve already come once and survived.”

Patrick drives his heels into the mattress, trying to pull his body down onto my fingers as I breach his hole with my heavily lubed index and middle fingers.

“Relax,” I growl. “This isn’t a free-for-all. You still need to try to keep your heart rate under control.”

“Then maybe you should get your fingers out of my ass,” he fires back, making me smile.