Caim

36 | let me in.

MILIANI'S POV

Throughout the drive, Caim remain silent, everybody knew he was in a bad mood so they all kept their mouth shut, even Lucas was silent. I could feel the tension lingering in the car, it was thick enough to feel it in the breath. I was familiar with this atmosphere in a car with Caim and by the looks of it, so was Lucas but Karl and Ailee were not so they would shift in their seats every now and then to hide their nerves.

"Caim, what is it?" I whispered, it was really making me nervous, his hands were clenched on the steering wheel so tight, they almost turned white, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed, all in all, Caim was giving off seriously pissed off vibes. His eyes snapped to me for a flash before they turned towards the road, his hand which was resting on the steering wheel, he removed it and placed it on mine.

Once we reached the humble abode of Lucas then only I was freed from the tight grip of his hands, his shoulders were still tensed, almost like a knot has been tied in his muscles. The rigidness went well with his dark eyes and a shadow already forming between his brows. Caim Salvatore looked sin personified. His hair is tossed by the wind, going in every direction like they have a mind of their own. Hair which I was stroking only a hour ago, those hypnotic eyes were hidden under the curtain of thick lashes, long and dense. A sharp jawline, clenched like he was grinding his teeth, a perfect sharpened nose and lips which I want to taste again.

The memories of that night came crashing back from the barrier they were hidden in, it was a tsunami of different emotions, swirling and crashing in the ocean of thoughts that seemed too dirty to stay resident in my brain, the night when he pressed those lips against mine with feral force, hunger, longing. I was struck by the surprising heart clenching thoughts. I didn't realised I was starting at him, it only occurred to me that we were alone when I felt his eyes slowly lifting to meet mine.

His held that same excitement, one which I was sure he could see in mine. He sometimes reflected on my feelings, what I was feeling, most of the time he would be feeling the same damn thing and we'll end up surrendering to our emotions. A carnal need of his lips pressed against mine has me panting hard and fast. Those grey orbs weren't helping either. He slowly, at a torturous speed lifted his hand to stroke my cheek. Slow teasing strokes as if he knew what he was doing to me.

"Stop" he whispered, pulling me a little closer, his breath fanning across my face with warm excitement. I could taste the air we were confined in, hot and humid with that musky scent of his.

"Stop what?" I asked, feeling his hand slipping from my cheek to the base of neck before he pulled my face closer to his, the cooling steel of his rings, pressing against my throat helped with the burning thoughts I was having, my face was already in a furnace and now my heart felt like it's going to melt. He sighed and pushed me even closer before resting his forehead against mine, those lips just a breath away from me, one tilt and i'd taste them.

"Stop starting at me like that" he whispered against my nose, his minty breath fanned me. And the palpitations doubled their numbers to match my breathing. "It's making me lose control. You're making me lose control" he said and I could only hum, his breaths were messing with me, I felt like a wild animal to pull him close and chase away the distance he's putting between us. The violent thoughts scared me, this isn't me, I've never been someone to want someone this much. This deep desire to have him touch me, tease me, feel me is making my head point with a roar of hot blood bursting in my veins. I closed my eyes, afraid he'd see what he does to me, what his mere touch does to me.

Caim is a dangerous thing, one which looks thrilling but life harming at the same time but you still find yourself wanting it, craving it and most of the time needing it. Strong words were nothing in comparison to Caim, his presence, his aura and the way he carries himself was enough to make him an object of human needs. He was slowly but gradually becoming that need to me.