Page 31 of Vendetta

He continued to look down, avoiding my eyes as he finally whispered “Are you okay?”

He seemed almost vulnerable. The question took me by surprise, the apartment met with silence before I finally whispered “They said you gave them the key.”

“They lied.” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I wasn’t sure if I believed him. He had come to my aid after all.

If he had given them the key, knowing what they would attempt, why would he then barge in here and stop them? Unless this was all some elaborate setup to fuck with my brain and get me to lower my guards around him. The idea was pretty far-fetched, and although I wouldn’t put anything past him, I also didn’t think that seemed very plausible.

I felt a lone tear gather at the corner of my eye, one not of fear, but of relief. I should have known that Cashton wouldn’t have intentionally let them go as far as they almost had. He was a colossal asshole, sure, but he wasn’t some monster either. I had seen the fear that had flashed behind his anger earlier as he had taken in the scene in front of him.

He reached out, my handle on the knife growing firmer in order to keep him back, but he didn’t seem to notice the threat to his life as he rubbed his thumb under my eye, wiping away my tear.

I wasn’t sure what it was about the movement that had a pleasant shiver racing through my body. My heart rate had finally calmed a bit, and though I wasn’t ready to let my guardfully down just yet, I felt monumentally better now that both of those men had been removed from the apartment. I wasn’t naive enough to believe that I was safe with Cashton, but something in my gut told me that he would never cross that line.

I hadn’t technically given him permission to touch me that day after the lake, but I also hadn’t stopped him. I had wanted him to touch me. I hadn’t realized just how badly I had needed his hands on me until that moment. I had touched myself countless times to the thought of him, but nothing had prepared me for how mind-blowing the real thing would be. At the end of the day, a sick part of me had loved the loss of control.

Why did the asshole have to be so attractive? It wasn’t just his god-like looks, either. There was a dominant air about him, something that demanded attention and commanded a room. Those hypnotizing green eyes always threatened to bring me to my knees. I hated myself for how deeply I felt the attraction pull at me.

“You fought off two grown men. Consider me impressed.” He spoke, his voice low and deep.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t left me with them.” I challenged, my glare hardening as all of the fear and desperation from earlier turned into anger towards him.

“I told you, I didn’t give them the key.”

“Even if that’s true, you still left me here with them. They could have done any number of things to me, even while I was inside that stupid crate.” I spat, fire lacing my tone.

Something flashed through his eyes, and he didn’t seem to know how to respond next. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting out of him, but it definitely hadn’t been the two words he spoke next.

“I’m sorry.”

I was taken aback for a brief moment, desperately searching his eyes for any hint of deception, but was only met with genuine regret. He looked away, seemingly uncomfortable with the sentiment. We stayed in that same position, my back pressed against the counter and knife still at his throat, not that he had even seemed to notice that last part.

Minutes seemed to pass before his gaze finally moved back up, slowly tracing up my body until they reached a stop at my still exposed breast. His hand followed, softly grazing my ribs and tenderly sweeping his thumb underneath it. Every nerve ending in my body lit up at the featherlight touch, arousal blooming between my legs. Something was seriously wrong with me. Why was I craving his touch after everything that had just happened? Maybe it was the way he had ruthlessly gone after them, or the concern in his eyes that made my chest ache.

“Did they touch you here?” He whispered, fingers exploring as he awaited my answer. He took my lack of reply as answer enough, jaw clenching before he bent down laid a soft kiss to the corner of my breast, slowly trailing a few more over the surface. The knife remained at his throat, though my grip began releasing some of the pressure as goosebumps came to life over my skin where he lay his gentle kisses. My head fell back, my eyes slamming closed as he laid one last kiss directly onto the already hardened peak before sucking it into his mouth, a blissful feeling overtaking me.

My toes curled as he teased, playing with the small metal bar and swirling it around with his tongue, nipping and biting as the suction continued. I could feel myself soaking myshorts, the adrenaline causing the sensation to drive me closer and closer to the edge.

Right as I thought I was about to explode, he released it with a pop, a whimper of disappointment escaping from my lips as he stopped.

He trailed his way back up to my neck, leaving little kisses along the way.

“And here?” He asked, brushing my hair aside to gain better access as he continued the gentle caresses. It dawned on me what he was doing. He was replacing their touches with his. Erasing the marks they had left on me in the only way he knew how, and my heart fluttered at the sentiment.

“Cashton…” I moaned almost too low to hear, but the rest of my words were cut off as his mouth slammed on to mine. His hand was hard and unyielding on the back of my head, fingers running up through the hair at my nape as he grabbed a handful and yanked my head back further, gaining better access to my mouth as he devoured me.

The knife dropped from my hand, clattering as it hit the ground. I let him take control of my body, his kiss fierce and demanding.

Cedarwood and mint enveloped my senses. I felt myself melting into him, our bodies flush as he pressed me further back against the counter. My hands moved of their own accord, running up his chest before grabbing a handful of the dark material. I gave in fully, pulling him in closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against me. I had absolutely no explanation as to why a sense of safety flooded me as I melted into his hold.

He must have understood what I was asking for, his kiss growing even more intense and commanding as he ran a hand down to the tank top hanging halfway off of my body and ripping what remained of the material, letting it fall to the floor at our feet.

I ran one of my hands up to his neck, grabbing the back of it to pull him further into me, feeling the warmth of the blood where I must have accidentally cut him. I needed more. His kiss was like a drug, driving me crazier and crazier as I slipped my other hand underneath his hoodie and up his stomach, feeling the hard lines of his muscles under my touch.

That night at the lake, I hadn’t touched him. I had been so taken aback by his advance that by the time I had processed what was happening, he had already been gone. But now, all I could think about was how badly I needed my hands on him, needed to explore every inch of his body.

His hands moved further down, nothing gentle in the way he grabbed my cotton shorts and ripped them clean off of my body, the material easily tearing. Had he reached a hand between my legs, he would have felt just how wet I already was. I needed him, and I needed him now.

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