Chapter 15 - Scarlett

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Despite my reassurances to him, the reality was far from fine. I struggled to admit to myself that I had lost control and consumed more alcohol than intended. The embarrassment of my behavior at the restaurant weighed heavily on me, but I comforted myself with the thought that no one seemed to have noticed. Then again, perhaps my memory was failing me as well.

I couldn't take my eyes off of Cain as he poured another drink. I envied his ability to handle alcohol so well. However, I knew I could probably do the same if I wasn't afraid of turning into my own mother.

I looked up at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts about the woman who had brought me into this world. Despite the distance between us, I still longed for a good relationship with her. It was hard not to feel envious when I saw mothers and daughters with strong bonds, wondering why that couldn't be possible for us.

Despite all the emotions it stirred up in me, I still held onto my unreciprocated affection for my Mother.

The longing for a mother's love remained, an empty void that couldn't be filled no matter how hard I tried. I often wondered if my past relationship could have been saved had I grown up with a healthy maternal figure in my life.

Cain resumed his seat next to me, and I couldn't help but take a deep breath, inhaling the distinct scent of his cologne. Strangely, his presence seemed to overshadow my troubles, much like my ex-fiancé once did. Involuntarily, I began to compare the two men, eventually realizing that I felt more drawn to Cain. Perhaps it was the alcohol influencing my thoughts, or maybe it was just a moment of honest self-reflection, but I couldn't deny this unexpected attraction. It could be that I have an inclination towards older men, something that had never crossed my mind before.

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to distract myself from the increasing heat building between my legs. The intense encounter I had just experienced with Cain had left me undeniably aroused, but I fought against these physical responses. It was a battle that led me to initially refuse going with him and kept me from revealing my home address. But now, here I was, sitting on his couch in his house, adding fuel to the fire of our situation.

I turned my head to face him and once again studied his features with a mix of curiosity and desire. Without thinking, I climbed onto his lap and straddled his thighs, emboldened by the moment. I leaned in for a bold kiss, anticipating rejection, but instead met with a surprising response as he kissed me back eagerly. His hands roamed over my back, igniting a passionate fire within me. The taste of his lips only fueled my desire, causing my hands to deftly unfasten the buttons of his shirt.

As our kiss intensified, my body moved in a provocative rhythm, pressing against his with a hunger that could not be sated. The desire for him was overwhelming, and every touch ignited a fire within me, even through the barrier of our clothes. My hands eagerly reached for his belt, but Cain stopped me before I could undo it. I gazed into his eyes, then traced the intricate tattoos decorating his exposed skin. My attention was drawn to the jagged scars on his chest, each one telling its own unique story. A part of me longed to run my fingers over them, yet I hesitated out of fear of causing him pain.

"You'll regret this in the morning," Cain said, breaking the silence.

I locked my eyes on him, trying to comprehend why I might end up feeling remorseful for giving in to a longing that had been brewing inside of me for quite some time.

"You're not really in a position to make such a decision now," he urged me, his words trying to reach me as my mind remained absorbed in my own intentions.

Ignoring his warning, I continued to grind against his erection, determined to push him to his limits. My desire only grew stronger with each passing moment. I boldly removed my shirt, feeling his intense gaze on me. A guttural moan escaped from Cain's lips, and the way he said my name gave me a sense of victory. It was a sign that I was making progress in breaking down his resistance. I reached for his belt once more, but he stopped me yet again.

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