Cain's POV The second the door clicked shut behind her, Ciara’s palm cracked across my face like a whip.The slap echoed through my bedroom, sharp and satisfying. My head snapped to the side, the sting blooming across my cheek. For a heartbeat, everything went dead silent except for our ragged breathing. Then I laughed—low, rough, and dark—because fuck, it was the hottest thing she’d ever done.Ciara stood there in nothing but that thin silk robe, chest heaving, eyes blazing with pure, unfiltered fury and unshed tears. “You bastard,” she hissed, voice trembling with rage. “You fucked her right next to my room. I heard every word, every thrust, every moan. I hate you, Cain. I fucking hate you.”I touched my split lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood where her ring had caught me. My cock throbbed harder than it had all night with Natalia. “Do it again,” I said, stepping closer, crowding her space. “Hit me like you mean it, wife of my brother.”She did. The second slap was hard
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