The Wildcard

Chapter Twenty Nine

Warm bubbles simmered around us as we relaxed into the hot tub, my muscles languid and loose under the water from more than just the luxurious jets pulsing the air around my spine, my skin heated with more than the silky bubbles, but memories of Cayden's huge body mercilessly pummelling into mine as he bent me over the porcelain rim mere moments earlier. Flushes ran over my body that had little to do with the scorching heat, or the wine, or the hot tub.

The jets around us as he'd rocked his huge cock into me from behind – the obscene edge of danger that we could be seen, at any time, by the other tourists on the beach – and he'd whispered filthy words in my ear, fucking me and filling me frantically, so that I had to bite on the back of his hand to keep from screaming his name over and over into the darkness that was descending ...

"That filthy smile you're rocking right now is making me hard again, and to be honest I'm already itching for a nap," he prowled through the bubbles towards me like a caged panther – all tightly leashed graceful animal – his lips nipping my earlobe with a twinge of pain, "You're going to wear me out, you little minx ..."

His voice rolled through me, his words making me feel more powerful as a woman than anything ever had in my life. He does that to me, even now, as though I bring him to his knees and there's nothing he can do about it. I guess he probably always will.

We aren't talking about now, though, this was all then – at the beginning.

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"It's kind of nice that there's no TV here, like we've locked out the world and it's just the two of us, maybe we should just go into town later, pick ourselves up a wardrobe and a few more munchies, and just live here forever?"

I smiled over to him at the opposite side of the small love seat we were nestled into, my feet bare in his lap as he softly massaged into the arch, his head rolled on the cushion to look across at me lazily from the corner of his eye.

"Empire be damned?"

"For you? Anytime!"

I shifted into the cushions behind me, my bum numb from the soft foam I'd been sucked up into, "Yeah yeah ..." I murmured with a smirk.

"I'm serious, you know, I'd do anything for you ..."

His eyes were staring off through the French windows at his words, rather than at me, but I knew he meant every word of it from the clenched angle of his square jaw, and the intensity in his gaze. What I didn't know, was why that expression on his face, and his strong hands gripping my foot just that little harder than moments ago were filling me with such an odd, uneasy sense of foreboding. But they were ... I cleared my throat, trying to shift the apprehension I was feeling. The switch in his mood, this dark brooding behind his words, was such a startling contrast to his easy banter of just a few seconds ago.

"Cayden ..."

"We'll get a few things tomorrow," he still looked agitated, "Forever might be stretching it, but I'm not ready to get back to you running ..."

"I'm not ..." What the fuck? Where did that come from?

He looked back at me then, reaching for my hand to pull me across him.

"I hope you're right," he curled his palm around my cheek, staring into my eyes from another world entirely, "I hope you keep staying, I don't want my other instincts to kick in with you – I don't want to resent your need to pull away from me – and turn this into another game. That's not what I want with you."