Page 24 of If Cain Were Able

I can’t see him, but I hear the wet pop of his fingers as they leave his mouth right before he presses one inside me.

Instinctively, I try to pull myself down onto his hand.

“More. Cain, fuck. I need you.”

I wish like hell it wasn’t true. I wish I had more self-respect. I wish I could push him off me, throw him out of my house—and my life—once and for all.

But I can’t. I’m under his spell once again, and I’m starting to believe I’ll never be free of it.

“Because you know no one else can give you what you need, don’t you?” he asks, withdrawing his finger.

“Yes,” I readily agree. I’ll agree to anything if it makes him put his fingers back.

“Then flip the fuck over,” he growls.

I don’t argue this time as I roll to my stomach and push up onto my hands and knees.

Cain’s hand comes down hard, the crack ringing out in the air as he slaps my ass. As a grown man, the act feels more degrading than it once did, but I’m already too far gone to care.

“Chest on the bed. Spread yourself for me.”

Again, I follow his order without objection.

He reaches between my legs, tugging on my hard length, causing me to buck back against him as he pumps lube from the bottle next to us on the nightstand. A second later, the cold gel is being pushed inside me with two fingers this time. Cain continues stroking my cock while fucking me with his fingers. Unable to hold still, I rock back and forth, trying to drag my cock through his fist more aggressively.

“Still such a slut for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles darkly as he crooks his fingers inside me.

“Ah! Yes. Fuck!” I shout, my sanity shattering in real-time.

Suddenly, Cain’s fingers are gone, and his hand has left my dick, leaving me feeling emptier and needier than I’ve ever been.

But I don’t have to wait long.

Without any additional prep, his lubed cock slams into me, forcing me up the bed with my face in the mattress. I struggle to hold myself open for him when he’s pounding into me this hard. Always sensing what I need, even if he’s an asshole about it, Cain smacks my hands away and replaces them with his own punishing grip on my hips.

The forward angle has him hitting my prostate every time, making me pant as sweat breaks out on my neck and between my shoulder blades.

My whimpers grow shorter the closer I get.

Right as I crest the peak, making my orgasm imminent, Cain pulls out.

I’m too far gone to hold it back, and I cry out in angry frustration.

“YOU BASTARD!” I yell. Because he pulled out, my orgasm is weak, and my hole clenches around nothing, leaving me feeling empty and unsatisfied despite the release.

Cain’s sinister chuckle behind me has me seeing red, and I throw my left foot back to strike him.

He may have aged, but his reflexes are as quick as ever. He grabs my ankle and twists hard, flipping me onto my back before planting his hands by my head, leaning down so our lips are brushing.

“Convince me you want it, Patrick. Make me believe you’ll die if I don’t come inside you.”

The problem is that I’m pretty sure I will die if I don’t feel his cock pulse inside me, filling me with his cum.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I roll us so he’s beneath me. My legs are tucked under me, and I reach behind me to get his cock ready for me to sink down onto it. Bracing myself with one hand on his chest, I impale myself on his cock, crying out in ecstasy.

He grabs my hips, bouncing me on his shaft in the rhythm he wants as I dig my fingers into the muscles of his pecs.

The sound of my ass meeting his thighs fills my ears, his cock fills my ass, and the look of bliss on his face fills my heart.