Cain opened his eyes. It was pitch black outside the window as well as inside the small room. It had started to rain steadily, the sound repetitive and soothing. As he came more fully out of the clutches of sleep he noticed another sound, a soft, barely there snoring. He immediately remembered that Malia Yate's curvy body was only inches away on the other side of Finn's bed.
He hadn't been overcome with attraction the first time he saw Malia Yates, nothing so dramatic. However, he found it more disturbing that his attraction to her had grown so rapidly and unexpectedly. At first he'd tried to tell himself that it was because she was unattainable. Usually women were throwing themselves at him consistently. Malia not only didn't throw herself at him, but she took every opportunity to defy him spitefully. She wasn't the only woman who refused to fawn over him, but she was the first courageous enough to stand up to him.
Of course he thought she was attractive, he'd planned on having her seduce and marry his brother. If he'd walked into the hospital to find someone plain or ugly he would have kept looking. But now he realized it wasn't simply the allure of the forbidden, it was something much more dangerous and unwanted than that. When Cain had fucked Milly he'd regretted it, as she had called incessantly as he'd expected. What he felt now was much more than regret, he felt a clawing in his stomach that was a lot like fear. He feared the loss of control he always felt with her. She genuinely interested him and baffled him. She caused him to have strong reactions, for better or for worse. She antagonized him like none of his men would ever dare. Cain wasn't used to people questioning and especially challenging him, and she made an annoying habit of both.
She'd started to get under his skin from the beginning, in hindsight he could see that. When he'd saved her from being raped by Vincent Dutari he'd been inexplicably irritated at her lack of appreciation. Logically he knew that she didn't have any reason to trust him and she was shaken, but he argued with her anyway. She was alway arguing with him, over everything. He'd been shaken as well in that small cell, because it was the first time he'd realized his attraction to Malia was a little more than appreciation of a pretty face. When Vincent had slowly pulled the zipper of her jumpsuit down to reveal her plump breasts he'd had a moment where he didn't want to stop the man. Then he'd had a moment where he wanted to kill Vincent and continue the violent scene himself. He didn't know whether to laugh or yell at the irony of that thought now.
Cain wasn't patient by nature, but it was something he practiced and honed. Malia brought out his nature as if he'd honed no skills, as if he wasn't a general capable of many talents. She brought out a feral side of him that he didn't know still existed. When he'd spanked women in the past they'd wanted it. When Malia wouldn't stand down from the line of questions he didn't want to answer he'd had an uncontrollable urge to turn her white ass red. The part of him that wasn't panicking at his loss of control at the time had loved whipping her repeatedly. Eventually the logical side of his brain had taken over and asked him what the fuck he was doing. He planned on sending her out of the room immediately to regroup, but she'd continued with the same damn questions as if he hadn't blistered her ass. That was when he'd started to gain a little bit of respect for Malia Yates. That was also when he'd started to panic. He'd lost control, and he wasn't simply sparing words with her this time. He'd taken action against this infuriating little girl that he hadn't planned on taking, action that went directly against his plans for Tristan. He'd told her the bare minimum and thankfully she'd left the room, leaving him to think. Cain prided himself on his forethought and tactical planning. Every single encounter with Malia Yates begged to differ. So he'd tried to stop tempting himself, he'd tried to stop being around her altogether. It had worked until he found out her true identity.
When he'd found out that Malia wasn't Olivia he'd been furious. He hadn't held any of that rage back when he'd gotten back to Malia. He'd used Tristan being sick to his advantage. He'd made sure she was Malia and that her documentation was correct when he'd seen her fumbling around even simple medical procedures. He was entertained at her discomfort around sickness and injury, it had slightly lessened his personal injury to his ego. After he'd punished Malia and cooled down a little he realized that was furious at himself. As a general a mistake as big as that shouldn't have gotten through the cracks. After he was over the initial rage his respect for Malia grew. She'd taken the place of her sister without a second thought or a moment of hesitation. It was her instinct to protect her younger sister and Cain could relate to that.
She'd accused him of not loving his brother, an accusation that he wouldn't have wasted his time on with anyone else, but with her the comment mattered. He had been going to fuck her roughly, to wipe that annoying snarky look off of her face and to teach her who was in charge. She'd had to give that resigned innocent expression and make him go soft. Figuratively speaking at least, he thought with a grimace. No, he hadn't stopped, though he should have.
What the fuck was he doing? This was the woman that he'd hand chosen to marry his little brother. He was supposed to be doing Tristan a favor and instead he'd just taken his future bride's virginity. It might get awkward on Sunday dinners, Cain smirked cynically. She'd been a virgin, he should have known. He had highly suspected it, he'd definitely known that she wasn't very experienced, but a virgin? Cain pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. It should have stopped him; but her begging only excited him more, her resistance only gave him more drive to conquer her. Then she'd begged him once more, not to stop violating her, but to not make it hurt. He'd almost stopped then. He had started in a fit of rage from her accusations but it hadn't lasted past that look and those words. However, he hadn't stopped. Her eyes had been so big and shiny with tears, her hair like a black waterfall over the pillow, and her body so pliant and smooth beneath him. So instead of stopping, he'd tried to make her want him. He'd started to kiss her for her benefit, but then she'd kissed him back and made sweet little whimpering moans that drove him wild. When he'd released her hands from his belt he'd expected her to put a halt to it, but she'd grabbed his hair and clung to him. The sex was too good for comfort. She was dangerous to him, that much was clear. He'd asked Finn to trade houses for a week so he could be closer to the unit, to be closer to Denizen, and off the grid. Was it really Blake Denizen he wanted to get closer to? Or was it Malia all along? Cain made a noise of disgust and sat up on the bed. As he stood on the hardwood floor lightning lit up the room and Malia rolled around on the bed restlessly.
Cain walked into the kitchen to avoid staring at her again. He did that too much. He was surprised she didn't think he was some kind of freak. She probably did, he wouldn't blame her. It was just that she was an enigma to him. As soon as he thought he understood her she did something to throw him for a loop. It was highly frustrating for a man who prided himself on the ability to read people and understand their motivations. Thunder shook the house as the storm moved in. He flipped on the light as he passed it. He opened the fridge and stared at the cold beer that was well-stocked in Finn's house. He sighed longingly and grabbed the icy cold milk carton instead and took a long swig from the carton. He was standing in front of the fridge completely naked when he heard her behind him, in the archway.
"Want some?" Cain held up the carton without turning around.
"No." She nearly whispered in response.
When he closed the fridge door and turned to face her he was amused by the clear avoidance she showed to look at his nakedness. So instead of make it easy for her he simply ogled her, though she was covered with the white cotton sheet. Her hair curled at the ends as it brushed the edges of the sheet that covered her breasts. Before he got the chance to give her breasts further thought, she spoke.
"Pretty bad storm, huh?" She looked out the kitchen window to avoid looking at him.
