Even with my eyes closed, I could sense the room spinning. My body was begging me to get up and use the restroom, but I fought back and tried to fall back asleep. The throbbing veins in my temples were starting to become unbearable, adding to my discomfort. I couldn't decide which was worse - the urgent need to relieve myself or the pounding in my head.

I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to sit up and make my way to the bathroom. My body felt like it weighed a ton, but I pushed myself to sit upright. As I did, a wave of nausea washed over me, causing me to curl into a ball with my head resting on my knees. What had I done last night? I remembered being with Blaze and him asking about my scars. Then I started drinking, and everything after that was a blur. Did I reveal the truth about Caleb to him? If so, why wasn't I burned alive?

With each new thought, my head throbbed even more. I eventually forced myself to leave the comfort of my bed, noticing an uncommonly chilly feeling underneath my feet. Something didn't feel right. Usually, there was a soft mat next to my bed. Where had it gone?

I glanced down at my feet and panicked when I realized I wasn't in my own home. It dawned on me that I was wearing someone else's clothes. As I looked around, I noticed that I was in Cain's bedroom. My heart raced as I wondered if I had been kidnapped.

I wasn't quite sure why I was in this place, but it became easier to figure out once my bladder was empty. I cautiously made my way to the bathroom, making sure not to trip over anything.

I lingered in the bathroom longer than I planned, admiring all of his possessions. It would have been a quicker process if I wasn't nursing a hangover. Once I finally left the bathroom, I moved on to explore his dressing room.

I settled onto the armchair, surrounded by neatly hung outfits. I couldn't recall ever seeing him in a jacket, but I guess it wouldn't be practical while making coffee, let alone carrying out an assassination.

My gaze shifted to the display case, where his extensive collection of shoes was neatly arranged. Each pair looked as pristine as the day he bought them. It was no shock that he also had a vast assortment of shirts. After all, those were the items of clothing he wore most frequently.

I stood up and began rummaging through the drawers in the dressing room. I discovered a collection of expensive watches, shirt cufflinks, ties, and a few belts.

As my fingers grazed the belts, I discovered that one of the drawers had a hidden compartment. With a gentle pull, it opened to reveal my old phone, a gun, and two knives. Just as I was about to check if my phone still had any battery left, I felt his warm breath on my neck.

'Is that your journalist's instinct kicking in?, he asked with a hit of mockery as he continued to kiss my neck.

His words caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but flinch. I had never shared that information with him. Only the Myers brothers knew the full extent of my past. Did Blaze reveal it to him? I highly doubted it. My immediate reaction was to reach for one of the knives in his drawer, but I felt the sharp edge of another blade pressing against my side.

As his breath tickled my ear, a shiver went down my spine. I couldn't tell if it was from excitement or fear, but as soon as I caught his intense gaze in the mirror, I felt a twitch in my other regions. 'If I were you, I wouldn't do that,' he warned me.

My hand inched towards one of the knives as I stared at his reflection in the mirror. I could feel him pressing the tip deeper into my skin, but I didn't back down. His dilated pupils make his grey irises barely visible.

'I'm warning you,' he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. 'Remove your hand from there,' he growled with a menacing tone.

His patience was beginning to wear thin.

'What happens if I don't?', I asked, but before I could say anything else, he gripped me even harder and pressed the blade closer to my neck.

Damn it... I may have pushed things too far this time. Is he really going to hurt me? Or maybe... I refuse to show him any fear, even though I'm not great at hiding my feelings.

His breaths were quickening, and he was losing control. This wasn't the same Cain that I knew from the coffee shop, always composed and keeping his feelings in check. This was an enraged Cain, completely unhinged and captivating...wait, no, that's not what I meant. He was more unpredictable and potentially harmful, that's all.

'I don't think you'd kill me, at least not here. I'd stain all your clothes...', I told him, as the blade went into my skin.

The situation was escalating quickly. He remained silent, not even flinching when I spoke. But the blade pressed against my skin, and I could feel the tiny punctures it made. My heart rate picked up, and the thumping in my ears grew louder. I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, and his expression hadn't changed. It was clear that if I didn't comply with his demands, I wouldn't survive.

I cleared my throat before speaking. 'I apologize,' I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. 'I shouldn't have acted that way.'

A raspy chuckle slipped out of his mouth as he tried to slide his hand into the waistband of my boxers.

'I'll make a deal with you,' he said, as his fingers began to stimulate my clit. 'But there's one rule: you can't move. If you do, well...you'll slit your own throat.'

My mind raced as I rhetorically asked myself what kind of twisted game this was. A wave of nausea threatened to make my knees buckle.

'Please, I didn't intend to invade your privacy. If you let me leave now, I'll never return,' I begged him, hoping he would show mercy and not subject me to this ordeal. However, it was clear that he had no intention of releasing me.

He grasped my clit with two fingers, applying pressure and making me moan as I leaned back against his shoulder. His touch was relentless, causing me to shake and lose control of my legs.

Each time I felt like I was about to reach climax, he would abruptly stop and deny me that pleasure, only to start the process all over again. His actions filled me with growing frustration as he continued to withhold my release. It seemed like he took pleasure in playing this game with me. Why didn't he bring it up when we first slept together?

The pleasure was overwhelming, and I thought I might shatter into a million pieces. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt something moist on my neck. Ignoring it, I focused on the sensations from his fingers and the rhythm of his movements.

He leaned in close, whispering to me as he continued his actions without pause. It was unusual for him to not interrupt me, especially when he found it so amusing to do so. But this time, his words were serious: "Look in the mirror before you cum."

His voice was the final push I needed to reach my climax, and even though I didn't want to follow his commands, I couldn't resist glancing in the mirror. My eyes widened as I saw a thin line of blood running from my neck to his shirt collar, and then I noticed the smug expression on his face.

Despite the disgusting scene before me, I couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal. It was too late to stop my body from responding, and I couldn't control the sudden tension. Cain kept stroking me, even as I became increasingly sensitive. Eventually, I began to tremble, and he pulled me close, putting aside the knife.

'I'm not done with you yet', he said, then walked back into the bedroom.

My legs were trembling uncontrollably, and I collapsed onto the couch at the center of the dressing room. I curled up into a ball, shutting my eyes tightly, as I heard him rummage through the room and lay something on the bed. Then, he returned to the dressing room. I could hear him closing drawers before he knelt down beside me and gently brushed my hair away from my face.

'Are you alright?' he asked me in a sweet tone, but I could sense the insincerity behind it. I gave a small nod, and he gently caressed my cheek with his hand.

'That woman you were with, the one Blaze assisted you with, are you positive she was the insane one and not you?' I asked him, attempting to force a grin and lift my head.

Why couldn't I control myself around him? Why couldn't I stop saying more than I should? Why did I crave to explore this side of him?

He got to his feet and caressed my cheek once more, just like he had done before. I remained still, simply observing him. His thumb traced over my lips, almost as if he wanted me to part them.

Without any words being spoken, I followed his unspoken request and he inserted his thumb into my mouth. He pulled on my cheek to stretch it out, and our intense eye contact remained unbroken even as I began to suck on his thumb. The urge to be intimate with him once again only grew stronger as I caught the spark in his gaze.

He grabbed my hand and drew me in for a tight, quick kiss. In one swift motion, he peeled off my shirt and boxers and began unbuttoning his shirt. He tossed our clothes onto the nearby couch, then pulled me in for another passionate kiss as we made our way towards the bedroom.

As he leaned over me, I could feel the cool touch of the white leather seat against my body. He started kissing my neck, and his saliva caused the cut to sting even more. My hands were itching to reach out and undo his pants, but he suddenly stopped and got off of me. He rummaged through the box on the bed, quickly pulling something out before turning back to face me.

'Stick out your tongue', he ordered, as I got up on my butt.

I followed his request and stuck my tongue out as far as I could, then he took a clamp and grabbed onto it.

'If you budge or struggle, the pain will only intensify', he told me, while I was already in tears. I tried to stay composed and hide my pain, but it was futile with this thing firmly attached to my tongue.

He gave a slight tug, and his smile grew with each groan of pain that escaped me.

He spoke calmly, with a stern tone. 'You need to understand that your actions have consequences,' he said as he reached for more string in the box. 'And what's about to happen is your punishment for disobeying me.'

He set the items down beside me and picked one up, slowly tracing it around my breasts multiple times. His mouth would occasionally nibble at my skin, causing me to shiver. I followed suit by placing my hands behind my back, allowing him to tie them similarly.

I could feel the tightness of the rope digging into my skin whenever I tried to move. As he kissed my neck and then my breasts, he continued tying me up with another rope, securing my calves to my thighs. His movements were a mix of rough pulls and gentle strokes, causing both intense pressure and barely noticeable sensations.

As he ran the rough fabric over my heated skin, I felt a growing tingle in my vagina. He held my legs tightly and spread them wider, fully exposing my most intimate area.

After he finished, he focused his attention on the box resting on the bed. I attempted to shift my weight, but the ropes around me tightened, causing a sharp pain that paradoxically brought a sense of pleasure.

He turned towards me, leaving a few clamps on the seat, before focusing on my nipples. He started to suck and lick each one, making me gasp with pleasure. He then trailed kisses down my body, taking his time to nibble on tender spots. Finally, he reached the spot between my legs, where he continued his intimate ministrations.

With my eyes closed, I tilted my head back and savored the sensation of his lips and warm breath on my inner thighs. His wet tongue slowly made its way toward my labia until it stopped just shy of touching me.

His movements were becoming exasperating - I just wanted him to touch me with more urgency. His tongue moved skillfully across my pussy before he resumed kissing my legs.

If my tongue wasn't in its current state, I would have pleaded for him to increase his pace, but all I could manage were unintelligible noises.

I glanced at him and saw the pleasure he took in belittling me, pushing me to a point where I couldn't even string together a simple sentence.

He quickened his pace, using a combination of his tongue and fingers to pleasure me. I was on the brink of climax when he suddenly stopped and reached for a clamp, attaching it to my labia before resuming his slow and teasing movements.

I attempted to say his name, but it only came out as a guttural noise, which caused him to grin as he kissed my vagina.

He taunted me, saying, "I can't read your mind!" Then he sunk his teeth into my thigh, causing me to wince and the rope to dig deeper into my skin.

In a fit of frustration, tears streamed down my face. I tried to hold onto my anger, but it quickly dissipated as he lowered his head between my legs once again and traced slow, deliberate licks along my skin. Despite my efforts not to get carried away by the pleasure, I couldn't help but succumb to it once more.

He leaned down, freeing my tongue from his grasp and replacing it with a passionate kiss. His fingers never stopped their tantalizing movements inside of me. With a smirk on his face, he intensified his thrusts as our eyes locked, his amusement at my fear that he might stop was evident in our gaze.

He shifted his focus to my nipples, teasing and nibbling them until I couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud moan, I finally reached the climax that I had been yearning for. The rope added an extra dimension of pleasure as he continued to explore deeper inside me with his fingers. As I gasped his name in ecstasy, he pushed me over the edge.

I leaned my head back and let out a gasp as I closed my eyes. It was both exhilarating and maddening at the same time. I thought that he would release me from my restraints, but to my dismay, he didn't. Instead, he clamped another clamp onto my other labia, then one on my clit. My body was already hypersensitive, so his sudden movements caught me off guard and caused me to flinch.

'Cain...,' I said in a muffled voice.

As the lingering effects of my orgasm faded, I became aware of how uncomfortable my position was and how thirsty I was.

He gazed at me with tenderness as he stroked my hair, then exited the room. I could hear his steps on the stairs and the clink of the refrigerator door opening. When he returned, he had a bottle of water in one hand and a glass in the other. He poured the water into the glass before turning to me with a sinister look on his face. I braced myself for him to make me beg for a sip, but surprisingly, he didn't. Instead, he assisted me in drinking from the glass before placing it carefully on the nearby table.

'Are you still calling me crazy'?', he asked, looking at me curiously.

I should have been upfront with him and said no, but what was happening now was more exhilarating than any physical encounter I had experienced before.

'I guess crazy isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe you', I replied, seeing his smile fade. 'More like a psycho', I continued, his gaze darkening again.

It seems like I messed up once more, but this time it was intentional. I met his gaze confidently as he approached to clamp my tongue down again. Instead of complying with his request to stick out my tongue, I stood my ground. He appeared increasingly agitated, yet he maintained a calm tone while speaking to me. I stubbornly refused him again and even smiled, disregarding the fact that there were other ways for him to silence me.

He used the ropes to bind my ankles, fastening them to rifles that were hidden in the ceiling. I don't remember ever noticing them before. The two times I ended up in this situation, I was completely drunk and barely able to walk. He checked each knot carefully before lifting me and suspending me from the ceiling. The discomfort caused me to groan loudly, with the clamps between my legs adding to it.

My eyes widened in shock as he suddenly gagged me. His gaze traveled over my body, lingering on my exposed vagina. In the reflection of the room's mirror, I could see myself, and it only added to my arousal. My legs were still spread wide, completely at his mercy. This position excited me, knowing that he could have me whenever he pleased. He then reached for a candle from the box, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of desire.

It was my first time attempting such actions, and it almost felt like my first time engaging in sexual intercourse.

The searing pain in my ribs snapped me out of my daze. I turned to see Cain standing there, holding a burning candle and dripping hot wax onto my skin. But it wasn't just on my ribs; the molten droplets were landing all over my body. Then he started kissing me, as if trying to apologize for his actions.

Each drop elicited a louder moan from me, my desire for him growing with every passing second. I attempted to speak, but the gag in my mouth made it impossible. Yet, somehow, he still noticed my yearning for him.

'Is there something wrong, love?', he said, making my vagina tingle again, feeling the sweet ache of the clit again.

There was a palpable tension between us, and it was clear he was upset with me. I couldn't understand why he was speaking to me in such a manner. It was as if the argument we had never even occurred. He treated me like I was an integral part of his life and his world.

Turning my focus to him, I noticed he was still waiting for a response. I shook my head, implying that there were no issues, in hopes of ending the prolonged delay. Little did I know, I was about to be proven wrong.

'That's what I thought', he replied, running his hand over my breasts and pinching my nipples before dripping them with wax.

His hands roamed down to my intimate area, peppering me with kisses along the way. He gently removed the clamp from my sensitive area, causing me to let out a loud moan of pleasure and feel a sense of relief wash over me.

'You're getting wetter and wetter', he remarked, then ran his tongue over my folds and licked as much as he needed to keep me from having my third orgasm. 'Hold back and you'll get a prize later', he continued, penetrating me with two fingers and starting to thrust quickly.

It was getting harder and harder to stop myself from cumming. It was surprising how turned on I was, even though it wasn't my first orgasm of the day. Fuck, it wasn't the first orgasm in the last hour.

I was getting used to the feel of his fingers as he suddenly pulled them out of me, and then shoved them into his mouth, all under my watchful eyes.

He released the clamps from my labia and then fastened rubber bands around the soles of my feet.

My heart raced as he reached for one, leaving me no time to respond before he pulled it off. The excruciating pain hit me like a truck, causing me to let out a guttural scream and gag uncontrollably.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I squeezed them shut. I realized my mistake too late as he reached for the other elastic and yanked it, causing me to scream once again.

He continued the same routine, while I was unable to sense any sensation in my feet. I glared at him with tears in my eyes, but immediately regretted it when he started slapping me on my sensitive area. The mixture of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, making my head spin.

I couldn't comprehend why I found pleasure in what he was doing to me, especially since it was something I had never experienced before. He switched between quick, repetitive movements and stronger, more forceful ones, with brief pauses in between.

I was feeling incredibly uncomfortable due to the two previous orgasms and the water he had given me. Urgently needing to use the restroom, I hesitated to ask him, fearing embarrassment. But not asking would have been even more shameful.

I attempted to yell at him once more, struggling against my restraints. He paused his actions and removed the gag from my mouth.

'Any objections?', he asked, as if he didn't know I'd disliked the rubber band thing.

I could tell from the expression on his face that he was thoroughly satisfied. Despite the clear bulge in his pants, he managed to maintain composure, and I couldn't help but wonder how he was still keeping it together.

'I...', I started to say, stammering and trying to avoid his gaze. 'I have to go to the toilet'.

His face contorted into a sly grin, clearly amused by my predicament. I could feel my cheeks turning red as I realized he had no intention of offering assistance. I was left to handle this embarrassing situation on my own.

'I'll wet myself if you don't let me,' I protested, but he tugged on a rubber band, causing me to scream and curse at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips, the first genuine one I had heard from him since we met.

'You'd have to be crazy not to love this mouth', he said, coming up and kissing me.

I gave in to my desires and eagerly kissed him, taking the lead by gently nibbling on his lip. He let out a soft moan, grinning, before locking lips with me once again.

Despite the months that had passed since our last conversation, there was an ease and familiarity between us, as if we did this every day.

'Cain', I said again, this time much nicer, 'I really need to go to the bathroom...'

He gave me a sly smile, but instead of releasing me, he continued pouring the hot wax all over my body. Uncontrollable moans escaped my lips as each drop tested my ability to hold my bladder.

'Please let me down. I don't want to piss myself', I told him, 'it's shameful...'

He let out a snort, then placed the candle on the table.

'And getting drunk like that isn't disgraceful?!' he snapped at me. 'Anyone could have taken advantage of you'.

'But it didn't happen', I told him, realizing that was the stupidest answer.

'You just got lucky', he retorted. I braced myself for a familiar guilt trip like my mother used to do whenever she wanted me to feel inadequate. But to my surprise, he didn't continue. I remained silent, knowing deep down that he was right.

With a nervous glance in my direction, he demanded that I stick out my tongue once more. Reluctantly, I obeyed. He deftly fastened the clamps to my tongue and vagina again, then added some for my nipples before quickly exiting the room.

I shut my eyes and focused on the rhythm of his footsteps, trying to distract myself from the self-destructive thoughts swirling in my mind. The faint clinking of glasses drifted up from downstairs as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Was that his go-to drink? It seemed like he always ordered it without fail.

The sharp chime of the doorbell jolted me awake, only to realize that he hadn't shut the bedroom door upon leaving. He seemed hesitant to acknowledge the visitor at the door, but eventually, I heard it creak open and a familiar voice echo through the hallway.

'Is she awake?', Liz asked Cain, and I figured it out she was talking about me. He simply said no. Hurried footsteps approached the stairs, making my heart pound.

If she walked in and saw me in this state, what would she think? How would her perception of me change? Was she even aware of this side of him?

'I had already slept with him', I remembered Liz's words when we were on the cruise.

It was evident that she was aware. I tried to clear my mind of thoughts of them together and concentrate on the current situation happening downstairs.

Liz persisted, saying she wanted to speak with me, but Cain cut her off and suggested she call back when I was awake. His tone conveyed a sense of displeasure towards Liz's presence, and it seemed like he wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible.

'I'm not doing anything to her, I just want an explanation. I want to know if her former job will affect us in any way, she continued.

My old job...? The fact that Inferno Knight had fired me was unknown to them both. And I hadn't told them about my previous workplace. Did she play a role in my job loss? Could she possibly have friends secretly planted among the heroes? It wouldn't be shocking, especially with someone like Eric involved.

'Kristopher and Eric have been watching her for a while. She hasn't said anything to anyone the whole time. She won't from now on either', Cain told her.

'Are you sure?', she asked doubtfully.

'Yes', he answered promptly.

It was a clear threat, a signal that if I spoke out of line, I would mysteriously vanish from existence. But I was accustomed to holding onto secrets like that, so there was no issue for me.

'Is she sucking you off that good? Why do you trust her so much?' she continued, as Cain tried to shut her up.

'Why? Just because I trust you, does that mean you do it better?, he replied, and I almost laughed.

Ah, that's what she meant by chicanery, I mentally noted. I couldn't help but admit that his joke was clever—even she laughed.

'Who knows... Maybe we'll do an analysis some-'.

'Don't even think about it', he chuckled. 'Not going to happen'.

Did Liz just suggest a threesome involving me? My body was flooded with arousal, but I forced myself to stifle any outward reaction. It was difficult to contain my desires.

"Fine," she said, "just be careful not to end up like before." With that, she stormed out and slammed the door behind her

The other one? Who is the other one?

I strained my mind, trying to remember any details I had picked up about him over the years. Unfortunately, there was no solid information on his interactions with women. My nerves were getting the best of me and I couldn't control my bladder

I didn't even hear him come up the stairs, flinching at the feel of his hands on my ass, then gently moving between my legs.

'I think you've been standing there long enough', he said, removing the clamps from my vagina. He lowered himself to my level, licking me again as he grabbed his cock through his pants.

As his warm tongue explored every inch of my body, I couldn't help but lose control and surrender to the intense pleasure. It was like being a wild animal, consumed by primal desires and the need to mate.

He had an innate knowledge of my body, knowing exactly where and how much to touch me. This was something my past lovers never quite mastered, even after years of being together. As he began to suck on my clit, I felt the familiar tightness in my stomach, my muscles clenching with pleasure. The sounds escaping his mouth were more euphoric than any song I had ever heard.

'You have no idea how delicious you are', he said with his head still between my legs, sucking faster and faster.

I was on the brink of climax, but the sound of his pants zipping up signaled that he wasn't going to let me finish. Despite this only being my second time sleeping with him, my body responded eagerly as if we were old lovers.

He prodded at me with more force and depth than before. I could sense that Liz had somehow caused him to become agitated, though it was unclear whether it was her mere presence or something she said. His not-at-all-silent moans now make my thoughts of Liz drift away.

My body trembled with pleasure as he thrust deep inside me, hitting my cervix every time. I caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, watching his abs tense and glisten with sweat. He had been so eager that he didn't even take off his pants; I wished I could see all of his muscles flexing with each powerful movement.

'Fuck', I heard him say, dropping his head back, eyes closed, as his fingers dug deep into my flesh.

The sensations were almost overwhelming, building and building with each thrust and every delicate touch around my clit.

My body convulsed with pleasure and a spurt of liquid shot out, drenching both his cock and pants. I immediately looked at him, and his reaction was impossible to read.