COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
“C-Cain . . . unghh . . . w-where . . . nghh . . . outside . . .”
“Mmm . . . don’t worry. It’s only the two of us here . . .”
Oh Dear . . .
A rush of boldness overpowered the reasons of my brain at his mention of ‘only the two of us.’
I faced him and bit my lip as I pulled the strings of my swimsuit, exposing my full breasts for him to ogle.
I was on fire at the sight of his eyes full of indulgent desire.
We just stood there, not moving, just enjoying each other’s view.
It was . . .
. . . erotic . . .
The silence. Our rhythmic breathing. The occasional moans and the scalding stares at each other’s body.
Couldn’t suppress my desire for him, I stroked his wet hair. My fingers burned as it trailed to his lips, down to his neck, to his collarbone, and slowly tracing the line of his lean abdominal muscles.
He trembled as he groaned my name, which enticed me to lower my hand to the line of his mouth-watering hips, and rested just inches above his groin.
My eyes went to his, and I melted from the intensity of his gaze. It was his turn to touch me.
He caressed my face.
“I’m sorry . . . ,” he said, voice so soft.
Why is he apologizing?
I wanted to ask, but his fingers were stroking my lips. He kept whispering while his hand explored my body. Touching and savoring every contours and hallow.
“I said those promises, even knowing full well I can’t control myself when it comes to you . . .” His hand rested on the top slope of my breasts, fingers circling the soft flesh.
“I promised that I won’t touch you here not unless I make love to you. At that time, when we went camping, and I was about to leave for a month . . . When I saw your flushed face, your deep brown mesmerizing eyes, your red cherry lips . . . just all of you . . . wet and dripping with water . . . I lost it.” His voice was hoarse, strained like he was in pain.
I brushed my fingers on his face.
Now I know why he’s apologizing.
It turned out, he couldn’t keep his promise on the breasts part. I wanted to laugh, but the seriousness of the situation didn’t call for it.
“Cain . . . , there’s nothing to apologize. You’re only human.” I cupped his face. “If you like my breasts so much, you can do whatever you want with it.” Then I hugged him.
An erotic groan escaped from his lips when our burning bodies joined together.
“I belong to you now,” I closed my eyes and took in his scent. “You can do whatever you want with me . . .”
Oh dear! You really are a Ma––!
I shut my brain and snuggled myself into his warmth. Cain hugged me back. He sniffed my hair as he murmured, “Thank you . . .”
He withdrew slightly and looked me in the eyes. There was guilt in the softness of his expression and longing in his eyes.
“Leanna . . . I . . . I . . . ,” he stammered. I found it cute that he was struggling with his words.
My finger on his lips silenced him. “I know . . . you just wanted my breasts,” I teased, lightening the mood.
He chuckled and cupped my face. “I want you so bad. It’s just that . . .”
He tucked some of my hairs behind my ears as his loving gaze never strayed from mine. I was intoxicated in staring at his frosty eyes that contained nothing but adoration.
“What will your parents think of you . . . of me . . . of us . . . ?”
I felt his pain, his frustration with a gentle but firm kissed on my forehead.
“Mmm . . . I understand . . .”
I was just afraid that all his bottled frustrations would affect his health and sanity. It didn’t escape my notice that these past few days, Cain’s kisses became even more terrorizing and savaged. His touches and ‘accidental’ groping sometimes left marks . . . Not that I mind.
I embraced his neck and leaned closer to him as I stood on my toes, and bit his lips, murmuring, “Sooo . . . are you going to fondle them or what?”
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