Title: Paradise
Found: Cain
Series: Paradise
#2
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Contemporary
New Adult Romance/MMA
Release Date: June
6, 2016
Blurb
“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.
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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.
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Author Bio
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.
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