Paradise
Found: Cain
Paradise #2
By
L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary New Adult
Romance/MMA
Release Date: June 6, 2016
Synopsis
“I hate that I love
you,” she said. “You left me.”
“I lost you,
there’s a difference. Now that I found you, I intend to keep you.”
Lost.
I’d tasted the
sweetest fruit of temptation, and I wanted another bite. I had promised myself
before, but once wasn’t enough. The savory flavor of her lingered long after
I’d lost her. Contending with the pressure to return to the fight, in order to
prove myself to my father and the world, I had to let her go.
Found.
It has been a year.
Sofie Vincentia and I had played a dangerous game. For one night, we pretended,
only to discover our farce was real. I’d lost her, but I hadn’t stopped
searching, hoping for her return. I was used to getting what I wanted, so when
she didn’t come to me, I had to go after her. This would be the greatest fight
of my life.
Purchase
Today
Excerpt
Post – Fight
Cain
The sound of her heels, retreating from me,
echoed down the hallway in the opposite direction of the gathered crowd. I was
still dressed for the fight. I’d rubbed a towel down my body, as I didn’t care
to change or shower yet. I needed to get to her before she escaped me again.
Following behind the click of her heels, I called her name a second time,
commanding her to stop. She didn’t listen. For the slightest second, it sounded
like the tapping on the tile increased. I sped up my pace, determined to catch her.
“Sofie,” I called out. The tension built. She
was going to run. My hand reached out for her, as I drew closer. My stride
lengthened. Her tight skirt curved over her hips, holding her snug ass, and
trapping her steps. High heels prevented her from moving any faster, despite
her determined hustle. This wasn’t how I remembered her dressing. She wore
loose skirts and fitted t-shirts, except on the second night. An image of a
black dress being removed from delicate shoulders flitted through my memory. My
eyes fell to her ass again, recalling what was under that shapely skirt. I’d
seen it, felt it, tasted it, and I wanted it again.
“Sofie,” I demanded. Her name was more than a
plea; it was a command to stop. We were headed in a circle. The sound of the gathered
crowd was echoing back toward us. She was trapped. If she kept going, she’d
lead us directly into the paparazzi pit. Cameras would capture her and I didn’t
want that. I didn’t want to explain who she was to the public. Not yet. I
needed a private reunion first.
Her pace slowed. My outstretched fingers
captured her upper arm and tugged her to a halt. Her body was gently slammed
against the cement block wall behind her, and my arms caged her in.
“Sofie.” My breath caught as I scanned her face.
Bright blue eyes under a pinched brow looked briefly at me, then avoided my
gaze. Her face was flushed. I remembered that pink skin. Another vision flashed
in my memory of her questioning me over a wooden wine bar. She was interested
in my anatomy at that moment. I wanted her to be interested in my anatomy
again. A certain part of me definitely had her attention, if she wished for it.
I wasn’t only hard; I was towering straight out for her. My dick knew what it
wanted. It was drawn to the lyrical whispers of what I assumed would be wet
folds beneath black panties.
Another vision flashed through my mind. This
included stripping her of black lingerie: simple, satin, and molded to the
shape of her. I’d never seen anything so tempting, until she was removed of it.
White skin, pink nipples, and a dark mound pointing to a treasure were the most
beautiful colors I’d ever seen, next to her eyes, which were glaring at me as I
assessed her face.
“Cain,” she said sharply. Her head lifted,
holding it high; she was pissed. There was no other way to describe her
expression. She hated me. I couldn’t exactly blame her, but it wasn’t the
reunion I anticipated. It wasn’t the reunion I expected. It wasn’t the reunion
I was going to accept.
“My sweet temptation,” I hissed to her. My
tongue licked my lips, eager to taste hers. She swallowed, and my eyes widened
at the smooth roll of her skin against her throat. My hand slipped up to her
shoulder and my pelvis fell forward, instinct drawing my dick to her. I
flinched uncontrollably as it hit her lower abdomen. It craved some place lower
on her body.
She didn’t push me away. In fact, her hands were
splayed against the cool cement behind her. Her eyes shone bright beyond those
tempting red glasses, and bright red lips matched, sucking in air at the
invasion of my body against hers. I wanted those lips to suck somewhere else.
She’d done it before. I knew how sweet she could be, but her eyes were harder
now. Those lips wanted nothing to do with any part of my body.
My hand continued to travel up the tender skin
of her throat, and she swallowed hard again, trembling beneath my touch. She
wasn’t repulsed by me, but she was frightened. I didn’t want her to be afraid
of me, but she needed to be concerned. If my father found her, there would be
trouble like she’d never known before. Her sweetness did not understand the
depths of evil associated with me.
“Don’t touch me,” she growled.
On second thought, perhaps she did.
My hand slipped into her chestnut locks and
tugged gently, but enough to remind her that I was a strong man. I wouldn’t
hurt her. In fact, I was certain I hadn’t hurt her in the past. I was the one
that suffered.
“One night, you longed for my touch,” I
whispered harshly, drawing my mouth closer to hers. “In fact, I remember
someone sweetly asking for it.”
My hands slithered in opposite directions. One
surveyed the hilly swells of side breast while the other travelled the valley
of her abdomen until it rose over curvy hips. I gripped a fist full of material
and tugged it upward, jostling her body with the rough hitch of her skirt.
“If I remember correctly, you wanted me,” I
purred against her moist skin. Her fear produced a sheen of sweat that covered
her face. My nose dragged along her jaw, then dipped down her neck. Holding
herself still, her hands remained flat against the wall to her sides. My hips
pinned her in place as the skirt rose.
My fingers graced the soft skin of her thigh.
She flinched and I pressed firmly forward. There was no doubt of my excitement.
Dressed only in my fighting shorts, my bare chest brushed close to her generous
breasts, which had been covered with my hands and mouth in the past. I wanted
to reenact those memories, but my fingers had other intentions. In a jagged
drag of skin against skin, I gripped her thigh, climbing upward, heading for
the fruit of my desire.
“Do you still want me?” I whispered into her
neck. “Do you remember?” I groaned as a thick digit delved through the warm
moisture of folded skin, ripe for what I intended. I wanted inside her. Damp
with desire, I slipped aggressively into her. I demanded she remember as I
added a second finger. Her breath hitched as she moaned and heavy lids closed.
“Look at me,” I commanded. My forehead almost
rested on hers, but I held back enough to stare into her eyes. I wanted her to
see me, remember me, remember what I’d done to her. How she felt under me,
wrapped within her. I grunted as my dick flinched, my skin too tight. This
temptress had to recall what she had done to me, as well. I was going to come
undone being this close to her, and yet she was so far away.
Blue eyes pierced mine, but they still contained
a softness within them. I didn’t want to believe my sweet temptation could rot.
She was spoiled by me, but she wasn’t ruined. She was stronger than that.
“Do you remember?” My fingers increased their
exploration. It was a renewed excavation. They rediscovered what they missed.
Sliding in and out, she joined my pace. Her hips moved slowly, then increased,
matching the beat inside her.
“That’s it, my sweet.” I pulled back to watch
her lids droop, then fight to open wide. “Good girl,” I rasped, as I brushed
back a stray hair but didn’t falter in my rhythm between her legs. Her hands
released from the wall. Palms flattened against my shoulders then wrapped
around them as best they could. She had delicate hands. Tender and gentle. They
had teased as she had tugged me and stroked me the first time. I jolted and my
hips pressed toward her, but my hand was the focus. Her fingers dug into bare
skin covered in tattoos of the snake I was. Sharp, blunt nails soon pinched
into me as her hips rolled and her luscious center rocked.
“I want you to remember,” I commanded. “Remember
where I’ve been. Who I am.” My fingers took on a life of their own, and they
worked hard, digging deeper into the tender cavern of warmth, wet and ready for
me. My thumb flicked over the sensitive pearl outside of her. Her breath
hitched. Nails gripped into hard skin. She didn’t have claws, not my girl, but
she was latching onto me. That’s exactly what I wanted.
“Tell me you didn’t forget,” I whispered, my
voice dropping as my pace continued. She didn’t answer me and I stopped. The
blue rivers turned to ice as she glared at me. I was the devil. And I would
break this reunion, if she didn’t play my game.
She shook her head, refusing to speak. I pulled
out of her quickly, feeling the release of her juices as they slid down her
leg. Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Then she said my name. It was hardly more
than a squeak, a meek plea, an unanswered question. Her nails slowly released
me. Fingers peeled upward from my skin. I was going to lose her.
Fingers slammed into her and her head gently
fell back. She sucked in a harsh breath, as I demanded her recollection without
words. I wanted her to relive the memory of what I had done to her. Only me.
I worked fast and her fingers lay back against
my warm skin. Nails made tender impressions on my shoulder. She could mark me.
I wouldn’t care. She’d already scarred my heart.
“Cain?” she questioned, but I knew the answer.
She was ready to burst. Her tender fruit had been plucked and she craved what
came next. That first bite. The sound of my name almost undid me, but it would
take more than that for me to be satisfied. For her, the flick of my thumb
unleashed her. Nails burrowed deep, her eyes shuddered closed, and her head
tipped back. She clenched hard, squeezing my hand between her thighs. My dick
practically danced, but I had been the king of denial. I would not have her
yet. This was only a reminder.
As my attention slowed, and I spread fingers
through folds so wet they wept, my forehead came to hers.
“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. My heart fell
to my stomach as I held my breath.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”
I pulled back in surprise, my eyes widened. My
expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.
“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting her
eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my retreating hand. She pushed
the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.
“I’ll never forget…that you’re an asshole.”
Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at
her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved
she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me. What I’d
done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an asshole.
Also
Available
L.B. Dunbar loves
the original legend of King Arthur. Inspired by this classic tale, she pulled
over to the side of the road to take notes when it hit her that if King Arthur
lived today, he'd be a rock star. A lover of fairy tales, myths, legends, and anything
with happily ever after, she loves to read and write contemporary romance. Her
Legendary Rock Stars series is complete with the final tale: The Trials of
Guinevere DeGrance, but the story began with The Legend of Arturo King. She
also wrote The Sensations Collection, which includes five stand alones based on
the five senses in a small town setting near Lake Michigan. Raised on one side
of that lake, she grew up in Michigan, but now lives on the other side, in
Chicago. Mother to four, wife to the one and only, and teacher to hundreds of
former students, she looks forward to sharing more stories in the future.
Author
Links
No comments:
Post a Comment