Heartless (Pleasure And Prey #5)

Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

T he house is dark and quiet when I get out of my car and slam the door a little harder than necessary. I’m not upset, exactly. My mom being gone means no pressure on me, so I can do whatever I want whenever I want. Hell, she isn’t even around to critique my taste in pizza or my milkshake obsession.

And I can order as much delivery as I want without her reminding me we have food in the fridge and not to waste my money. Still, there’s something like loneliness creeping up my spine to invade the space between my ribs. Sometimes, no matter how hard I work to convince myself otherwise, I don’t want to be alone.

Tonight is easily one of those times.

On the porch I stop, staring down at my black and white sneakers with scuffs along the toes. They’re worn in and comfortable, and I shift my weight on the welcome mat Mom brought home from a trip into Akron last week.

It is, of course, not Halloween themed at all.

The hair at the back of my neck prickles, and before I can think of what I’m doing, I turn to look behind me, toward the street.

Somehow, I’m not surprised when my eyes find Cass. He’s leaning against a sleek back car, and even though he’s too far away for me to see the details of his face and the setting sun has cast him in shadow, I still know what he’s looking at.

Me.

I tell myself the only reason I’m doing this is because my week has been a bitch and I’m lonely as hell. I tell myself he won’t do anything, anyway.

I tell myself it’ll be fine when I leave the door open behind me and stride into my mom’s two-story, cookie-cutter suburban home. It isn’t quite like Lou’s—there’s maybe a two hundred square foot difference—but it’s similar enough that I’m pretty sure the same designer worked on both.

Though honestly, there’s not a lot that’s unique about either house. Not the white walls and light hardwood floors that line the first level, nor the staircase that marches straight up to a railed landing that’s open over the front door and foyer.

The only reason I feel comfortable leaving the door open is because I know Mom closes the cats into my bathroom when our housekeeper is coming over, and she always comes on Thursdays. Unless she’s done a full one-eighty, that’s where they are now with her not being here and the house shining like it only does on the day of a cleaning.

I wander into the kitchen, tugging off my hoodie as I go and drop it on one of the chairs tucked under the small table against the windows. Like Lou, we have a breakfast nook and a sliding glass door that leads to our yard, though instead of a concrete patio like my sister, we have an actual deck with a fire pit and comfortable lawn furniture.

Back from when Mom actually tried to hang around and spend time with me. When she was still faking it and trying to move past what happened instead of reliving it every time she looked my way.

The front door closes, pulling me out of my thoughts just as I pull a bottle of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. There’s no other noise, though, and when I look up to see Cassian leaning against the doorframe, I jump and nearly drop my drink.

“Jesus,” I breathe. “Make some fucking noise or something, Cassian. What are you, a ghost?” It’s hard not to ramble when I’m nervous, and my brain to mouth filter is clearly malfunctioning today.

“You shouldn’t leave your front door open.” His tone is just a little admonishing, and he doesn’t move from his spot in the doorframe. “What if your cats had gotten out?”

“They’re closed in my bathroom since the housekeeper was here,” I dismiss his concern. “I like my cats more than I could ever like a person. Did you really think I’d take a chance of them being able to run out the door into the big bad world? They’re too delicate to survive.” The statement isn’t quite true. They did pretty well on their own before I befriended them and brought them inside to live a life of luxury.

“No.” Cassian rolls his shoulders in a shrug and just…stands there.

“God, that’s so creepy.” I shudder theatrically. “Do you want a Dr. Pepper?” I’m already going to the fridge again as I say it, and I don’t need him to answer before I set another bottle down on the counter.

“I didn’t say yes.” Cass pushes off the wall and steps into the softly lit kitchen. His hand goes out and he lifts the bottle to break the seal. “Thanks.”

“I may have blocked out a lot of my childhood, but I still remember what soda you like,” I reply dryly, lifting my bottle into the air like I’m giving a toast.

“Blocked it out, huh?” He sits down quietly in one of the chairs at the table, though his eyes never leave mine. “Where’s your mom?”

It’s not the question I’m expecting, and I lean my hips back into the counter behind me. “Well, don’t you know just how to ruin the mood.” It’s not a question, and I tap my fingers along the cold plastic of the bottle. “Can we not do this in the kitchen? The cats need to be let out and when Mom isn’t here, I usually hang out mostly in my room.” Up there, with the cats close, I tend to feel less lonely .

“We can go wherever you want, Winnie.” The way he says it has me glancing at him as I walk by on my way to the stairs, but I don’t stop. No matter how much I want to challenge him on what he means by that.

I nearly trip up the stairs in an attempt to look nonchalant, and judging by the snort I hear from behind me, Cassian definitely noticed. But I just keep walking, pretending like I haven’t done anything embarrassing. Reaching the bathroom door, I push it open slowly, watching the two still-scruffy cats creep their way out of the bathroom, Doom immediately trotting over to twine around Cassian’s legs. Predictably, Gloom streaks away down the hall, disappearing into my room to, most likely, hide in the abyss of my closet.

“Your room, right?” Cass asks, effortlessly scooping Doom up onto his shoulder. I think about warning him that Doom is fickle and likes to bite ears…but then realize that would ruin the potential joy of seeing Cassian with my cat hanging off his earlobe.

So I don’t.

Instead, I lead the way to my room that takes up a good section of the second floor, pushing the door all the way open and glancing around for anything embarrassing on my floor. But thanks to the housekeeper to whom I owe my firstborn, it actually looks pretty clean and well-kept.

“Oh, sorry,” I say, tossing my keys on top of my dresser and toeing off my shoes. “I forgot you’ve been in here before and could’ve found it all on your own.” Absently, I yank open one of the heavy wooden drawers of my dresser, finding a pair of running shorts and a tee to change into from my waitress uniform. Not that my black pants and plain, long-sleeved shirt are uncomfortable, exactly. I just don’t like wearing pants or long sleeves when I can help it.

“Not that hard to find, really,” Cassian replies sweetly. He sits down on the bed, letting Doom clamber down to purr and nudge his arm. “All I had to do was follow the aggressive snoring.”

That stops me on the way back to the bathroom to change, and I turn to look at him, expression flat and lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t snore.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” He grins at me. “You can believe that if you want. I’ll let you.” His eyes fall to the clothes in my arms, then flick back up to my face. “Where are you going?” he asks, like somehow it didn’t sink in from seeing what I’m holding.

To help him out I hold up the comfortable clothes and shake them at him. “To change. Did you want something to change into as well? I have a great selection of yoga pants, leggings, and running shorts for your perusal. Not to mention all kinds of shirts with questionable designs or shitty quotes on them.” I don’t smile as I say it, maintaining my solemn look of seriousness.

Cassian rolls his eyes and settles back on his hands. “You always make me regret asking.” He sighs heavily, though his lips twitch into a small grin as he says it.

“I can make you regret breathing if I try hard enough.” He snorts at my words, shaking his head as I shift the clothes from one hand to the other. “May I go now, O curious one?”

“Of course, my subject.” He bows from where he’s sitting, dramatic in his movements. “Don’t let me keep you from your evening tasks.”

“Then by your leave.” It’s a bad habit of mine to always want the last word, but before he can reply, I’m out the door and heading for the guest bath. It’s not as nice as mom’s ensuite, obviously. But it’s bigger than a lot of other guest bathrooms I’ve been in. There’s a large tub against the wall and the lights over the mirror are nicer than they have a right to be. Even in the suburbs.

Quickly, I strip out of my work clothes, changing into my shorts and tee, before I bundle up my uniform in my hands and start to leave.

Until I catch sight of myself in the mirror and stop. Unthinkingly, I’d also taken off my bra. As I do every night. It’s noticeable in my reflection, and I worry Cassian will think I mean something by it.

Do I mean something by it?

The question floats around in my head as I stare at my reflection, until I let out a breath and shake my head. “Stop overthinking it, Winnie,” I whisper, and force myself to leave the bathroom, following the same path back to my room as always.

Cassian is no longer on the bed when I return. He’s standing in front of the bay window, peering out through a small gap in my blackout curtains. He doesn’t turn to look at me when I come in, nor when I drop my clothes in my overflowing laundry hamper by the door. I’ll get to them. Eventually. When I run out of clean underwear.

For a moment, I stand in the middle of the room, watching him survey the outdoors. Doom has decided to vacate my bed, and I look over at the cat tree to see him lounging on the top platform like it’s his throne. Though I guess for him, it’s as close as he’s going to get to his dreams of royalty.

“So…” I sit down on my bed, back against my pillows, and curl my legs up under me. “You still want to know why mom isn’t here?”

My words bring his attention back to me. Cassian pulls away from the window and sits down on the bed as well, before lying down on his side with his elbow propping him up. His sky blue eyes find and hold mine, interest mixing with the infinite patience he somehow possesses no matter the situation. “Of course I do. I want to know anything that you want to tell me.”

“Don’t say crap like that, or I’ll hit you with my pillow,” I scoff, not letting the words sink in. “Mom is on a trip. A work trip, a vacation, a road trip, a shopping trip…?” I shrug my shoulders lightly. “Who knows? She’ll probably text me in the next few hours to let me know where she is. Or she won’t, and she’ll call me tomorrow apologizing about how she forgot she hadn’t hit send on the message.” I can’t help the stab of hurt that aches dully in my chest. While it used to be a lot sharper; a lot more painful…the pain from how much she chooses to be away from me never really goes away.

“Why?” That’s all he asks. He doesn’t comment on anything I’ve said, and Cassian’s eyes never leave mine.

“She…” God, this is a lot harder than I’d expected it to be. Lou is the only one who knows the truth, and it’s caused quite a few fights between her and my mom. By now they have an uneasy truce over it, since Lou has realized nothing she says will guilt mom into being around more.

So I take a breath and settle back against the headboard, picking at my thumbnail. “She doesn’t like to be around me anymore. She blames me for Dad, for what happened and what he did. My mom thinks I overreacted, that I could’ve done something different, or that I misunderstood. ” I can’t help but sneer the words, and I’m too nervous to look up at Cassian.

Maybe some part of me is afraid of what I’ll see in his face.

“So she takes trips a lot. She volunteers for any travel at her company, and is constantly going across the country for one thing or another.” I breeze over the details, not adding that she’s made sure to be far away from here on Halloween. Just like always.

When Cass doesn’t reply, my trepidation of his response grows. I know he has no stake in what happened to my dad. He shouldn’t care one way or the other, but I can’t help my anxiety over his response. Over the possibility of?—

A rustle of sheets and movement from the corner of my eye is the only warning I get before Cassian presses me back against the headboard, on his knees and caging me in against the wall. His elbows rest on the drywall on either side of my face, and he stays there until I look up at him, eyes wide and a question on my tongue.

“I wish I’d known,” he murmurs. “What about your sister? She doesn’t seem like she’d let your mom do that. She was always scary protective of you.” A smile ghosts over his lips, and I snort.

“Are you remembering the time she threw you in the lake for making me cry?” I ask dryly, unable to focus on his eyes when he’s so close that I can feel the heat from his body and smell the musky spice of his cologne.

Fuck, he has no right to smell this good. Or look this good. Or be anything that he is.

“Something like that.” The way he gazes at me always seems so intense. But then, there’s rarely anything casual about Cassian.

“Yeah, she umm…” I swallow and remind myself he’s a murderer while trying not to focus on how close his knees are to mine. “She’s had quite a few fights with mom over…stuff.” That’s the best I can do with him this close.

A knowing smirk crosses his lips, and my heart sinks. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing to me and my ability to form coherent thoughts. “Stuff?” he repeats, leaning closer. “Winnie, don’t tell me I’m making you flustered by being this close.”

“You aren’t,” I’m quick to lie. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but your cologne is choking me. It’s hard to focus when I’m trying to breathe normally.” It’s nowhere near the truth. If anything, I want to bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply.

No. Bad Winnie , I berate silently.

“Did you know…” His eyes drop, and with a jolt, I realize he’s staring at my mouth. “That you are, perhaps, the worst liar I’ve ever met? Are you that bad with everyone, I wonder? Or just me?” Fuck, he’s definitely leaning closer.

“I think you’re?—”

“Shut up, sweetheart.” He cuts me off easily a brief moment before his lips crash into mine, shockingly possessive and intense, given the softness of his words. While I’ll never admit to it, I practically melt against him, letting him push me back until I’m leaning fully against the wall and he can pin me there with his body while he coaxes my lips open with teeth and tongue.

It’s his hand on my jaw that makes me open my mouth in a gasp, and Cass is quick to take advantage. He sighs with pleasure against my lips as his tongue explores every bit of space he can. All the while, my hands inch up, until I find my fingers inexplicably curling in his shirt.

I should push him away.

Not pull him closer.

But I can’t convince myself to do the smart thing. My hands seem to have an agenda of their own as I tug him close until there’s no more space between us and any breath I get to take is from the air we’re sharing.

“Winnie…” I don’t expect the low rumble of his voice when he pulls away enough to rest his forehead against mine. The sound of panting breaths fills my ears, and with a shock, I realize it’s coming from me. I’m the one out of breath, like I’ve just run a mile.

“Yeah?” I ask, trying for something other than a nervous, breathy sound and failing. Butterflies I never knew existed flutter around my stomach, making me feel…strange. But it’s not a bad kind of strange.

“This isn’t…Fuck.” The butterflies suddenly lose their ability to fly at the roughness of his words, and I draw back, just for his hand to tighten, gripping my jaw. “Wait, no.” He opens his eyes, meeting mine with cold blue eyes that feel somehow scorching. “No, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. You look like I kicked your puppy. I just meant.” He takes in a breath, eyes closing for a few seconds before he reopens them. “I didn’t come here to go so far. But then, I didn’t last time, either?—”

“Why not?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and when Cassian’s grip on my jaw falters, I find myself moving forward, pushing him back as he moves to let me do it, until Cass is on his back and I’m straddling his hips, holding myself up above him with one hand pressed to his chest.

Frustration bubbles to life in my chest as I look down at him. “If you’re about to leave like the other night after kissing me and telling me ‘you didn’t mean to do this,’ then you might as well not come back.” The words are shaky and unsure, and for a moment, I’m afraid they’ll upset him.

I don’t expect the quick, mischievous grin that spreads across his full lips. “The cops were on their way the other night,” he points out. “I think that one was beyond my control.”

“Really? You could’ve hidden in the closet or something,” I reply, unsure why I’m arguing except for the sake of doing it.

Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone too fast for me to identify it. “We’d just had a bit of an argument, if I remember correctly. One where you tried to run from me.”

“Oh, yeah, because that totally carried through to you kissing me. Couldn’t you tell?” I can’t help rolling my eyes at him, and with a quick movement I nearly miss, his hand is suddenly gripping the base of my throat.

“You like to ask for it, don’t you?” Cassian croons. “Tell me, sweetheart. Has no one ever put you in your place before? Has no one taught you what happens when you end up getting the last word?” I don’t answer him, but not because of his grip.

It’s because of his damn words. They play on repeat in my brain as I stare down at him, resurrecting the butterflies and sending them into frenzied flight. “I don’t always need the last word,” I deny, feeling the lie on my tongue as I say it.

Cassian certainly isn’t fooled. His look turns incredulous, one brow raising and making me scoff. “Not all the time!” I press, tapping my fingers against his stomach. Glancing down, I realize his shirt had ridden up when I pushed him, and the pads of my fingers are resting on the bare skin above his jeans.

Fuck , this is such a dangerous position to be in with him.

“So that’s a no?” His fingers shift slightly on my throat, and when I swallow, I feel the press of his hand more acutely on my skin. “You’ve never had someone call you out for your attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude.” But my words are hollow, and I look away from him, unsure what to say.

“No.” His fingers tighten. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your eyes while I talk to you.”

It’s so difficult to drag my gaze back to his, and when he reaches out his other hand to grip my thigh, the butterflies in my stomach put on jet packs to bang against my insides with urgency. “So if I leave right now, I should just never come back?” he muses, gaze holding mine in an iron grip.

“Yeah,” I breathe uncertainly. “Never to darken my doorstep again.”

“And what, exactly, will it take to earn myself a humble visit to your bed, hmm?” He drags my hips down until I can’t hold myself up anymore. My hand is splayed on his stomach, and when my body meets his, he arches up into me, grinding against my core.

I can’t help the small yelp that leaves my throat in surprise and, maybe, approval. My hand tenses on his stomach, fingers curling until I’m scraping my nails against his skin. “What do I need to do for you sweetheart?” I swear to god Cassian is purring at me. “Should I kiss you until you can’t remember why you want the last word?” The hand on my throat drags me down until I’m pressed against him, on my elbows now in an imitation of how he’d been when I’d been against the wall. But now it’s me with my forearms braced on either side of his face.

Except, I don’t feel like the one in control. He doesn’t relent, instead wrapping his arm over my shoulders to urge me the rest of the way down until his lips reach mine once more. He’s gentler this time. Sweeter. At least at first. He licks and teases at the seam of my lips, taking his time before he slides his tongue against mine. The hand on my thigh slides around to my lower back, and he holds me against him as his hips arch so he can grind against me once more.

“Should I make you come? Stay here all night with you on your back and my face between your legs to taste your pretty pussy? I’ll let you grip my hair and beg me for all the things your boyfriends would never do to you.” He licks at my lower lip and a shiver goes down my spine.

“You don’t know what my boyfriends have or haven’t done for me,” I mutter, just to have a say in this.

“Maybe another time I’ll tell you all the things I know about the two guys you’ve dated.” Cass chuckles, biting my lower lip before I can express my surprise. “Would that earn me the right to come back, Winnie? Or…” My breath falters when he pauses, and I’m ashamed to realize I’m hanging on every single word that comes out of his mouth.

“Or should I fuck you until you can’t remember your own name, and the only thing you can say is mine?” My stomach twists at his words, and I can barely remember why I told him he had to leave and not come back. Clearly, my brain cells have melted from the heat in his words.

Cassian watches me, humor written all over his face. “Oh, you’re too easy, sweetheart,” he chuckles at last. His hands move, going to my hips, and before I can question why, he’s rolling us over until my back is against my comforter and he’s on his hands and knees above me. “So what’ll it be?” he teases, searching my face. “But if you’re too overwhelmed by the options, I can just make the decision for you.”

“Where was the option to make tin foil hats, discussing our conspiracy theories, and drinking sparkling water?” I ask in a voice that’s way too breathy and much too unsure. “I wasn’t replying because I thought that one was still coming.”

His snort nearly cuts me off. “You hate sparkling water, Winnie,” Cass points out dryly. “But that’s okay. I get it. That’s your way of telling me to pick. Don’t worry.” His sudden grin is predatory, wolfish in its appearance. “I’ll get in your good graces. I’m sure of it.”

“How do you think you—” His lips crash into mine again, but this time his movements are urgent and rushed. His fingers grip my tee, yanking it up and over my head without ceremony and leaving me in just my running shorts that feel incredibly too short right now.

Cassian kisses down my throat, reaching up to grip my hair and force my head back so he can have unobstructed access to my neck. His kisses turn sharp, and I whine when I feel his teeth sink into my skin while he sucks a mark that’s sure to bruise. But he doesn’t stop with one. Or two.

Or five.

By the time he’s left at least six marks on my neck and shoulders, I’m a fucking mess under him. I can barely focus on my ceiling, or anything other than the pleasant sting of the bites and the way he’s admiring his handiwork with his fingers and tongue.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You’ve always been so gorgeous, Winnie. And finally, all mine. Just like you should be.”

“All yours?” I parrot, trying to remember why that makes the hair at the back of my neck prickle.

“All mine,” he repeats confidently, kissing the hollow of my throat. “And I intend to prove it to you as many times as it takes.” I shiver under him as he kisses a path down my chest, lifting his head to flick his tongue over my nipple as his hand comes up to cup my other breast. The dueling sensations are enough to have me shuddering, and my back arches off the bed as I bite back a needy whine. His words and my protests to them slide out of my mind like oil when I feel the tease of his teeth on my sensitive skin, but before I can do more than suck in a breath he’s sitting up, fingers hooked in the hem of my running shorts.

Then he stops. Just… stops. I open my eyes, surprised to find them closed, and gaze up at him in utter confusion as I wonder if I’ve given him a sign that I don’t want this. With my eyes on his face, I see the small twitch of a smile on his lips, and he shifts to press his fingers to my hips. “I just wanted you clearheaded for a moment,” Cassian murmurs. “I want to make sure you want this, Winnie.”

“I thought I was being pretty obvious with the embarrassing noises I’ve been making. None of which I’ll never admit to, by the way,” I ramble. “Even under torture.” I shift slightly, nervous at his scrutiny, only to stop when his fingers press down on my waist.

“I need you to tell me you want this,” Cassian states. His eyes never leave mine, and the weight of his gaze is unnerving enough to make my stomach twist. “I need you to tell me that, because once you say yes, you don’t get another choice, Winnie.”

My mouth twists in a nervous grin. “No takesy-backsies?” I joke weakly. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“It is with me.”

“What if I say no?” I’m curious, more than anything. Will he really just…leave? “Will you leave?”

He smiles fully, looking both predatory and mischievous. “If you say no, I’ll help you put your shirt back on and go back to just kissing you. If you say no, I’ll pull you into my lap and watch reruns of Bridezillas with you.”

It’s a little unnerving that he knows my favorite show, but I push that thought away. After all, we’ve already established that this isn’t quite normal.

“But I won’t leave . No, that’s not on the table anymore.” He drops back down to his elbows over me, brushing his lips sweetly to mine. “You opened the door for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You let the monster in, so closing it now won’t make me go away.”

This time, a shudder trails down my spine, but I can’t decide how much of it is from fear and how much of it is from something way less appropriate for the situation.

“You make it sound like a threat.”

“Oh, it is one,” Cass assures me, burying his face against my throat to kiss and nip at my skin. “It’s always been a threat.”

“You make it sound like…” I trail off when he bites down, causing me to shiver. “Like you’re the bad guy or the villain here.”

He chuckles softly, but doesn’t reply for a few moments. His tongue licks a line up my shoulder, curving around my neck, until finally he licks up my jaw. “I am the villain here, Winnie,” he murmurs in my ear. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I suppose it would be rude of me to tell you I’m tired or would rather watch Bridezillas ,” I hum thoughtfully, as if it’s a decision. “But if I say yes, do I get to see you with your shirt off? Seems only fair.”

Without hesitating, Cassian sits up and tugs his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the floor near the bed. My eyes immediately fall to his chest and abs, lingering on the sharp cuts of his hips my fingers ache to touch.

At least, until I see the scars that slice across his skin. I reach up without thinking, only to stop with my hand hovering just centimeters from him. My eyes flick up to his, and in response, Cass reaches out and grips my hand, pressing it to his warm abs over one of the worst slashing scars.

“They don’t hurt, and I’m not shy,” he murmurs. “You can touch them all you want. If this is you saying?—”

“Yes, yes . This is me saying yes,” I tell him arrogantly, rolling my eyes in exasperation. “Yes, oui, si, ja—” He tackles me to the bed with a laugh rumbling in his throat, fingers gripping my hair to yank my face back up to his.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” he growls, nipping at my bottom lip. “Fuck , Winnie.” His hand finds my shorts, and he yanks them and my underwear down without any struggle. Hell, he makes it look easy, considering I can barely get pants on without both hands and falling on my face. “Next time I’ll make you pay for what comes out of your mouth, but?—”

I cut him off with a yelp when he suddenly thrusts two fingers into me and curls them upward. “Oh, fuck ,” I whine, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders. “Cassian?—”

“Too much?” he teases softly. “Don’t even try. I bet you’ve been wet for me since I leaned over you against the wall. Your other boyfriends never knew that, did they? The way you’re just begging to be pinned and fucked and put in your place.”

“My place is?—”

His other hand grips my throat and he snaps his teeth together inches from my lips. “Shut up, Winnie.” He laughs lightly. “I want to fuck you right now, not teach you a lesson for your mouth.”

I want to push him. I want to see what he’ll do if I don’t shut up…but his fingers are a damn good argument against me doing that. At least for now. I moan in appreciation, arching my hips into his hand as he adds another finger. “Fuck,” I sigh, opening my eyes to gaze up at his face. “Has anyone told you that you’re really pretty, Cass?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But I’ve never really cared about what anyone else thinks. I only care what you think.”

“That sounds a bit possessive.” The words are out before I can think better of them, and his only response is a wicked grin as he scissors his fingers inside of me. He’s so thorough that it’s aggravating, and by the time he finally pulls his fingers free, I’m writhing and almost begging for more.

“Poor thing,” Cass coos. “Finally lost for words? No, I didn’t say you could talk yet.” He reaches up to wipe his fingers over my mouth, smearing my lips with my arousal. I shudder, but I can’t tell if it’s from disgust or anticipation. “Not even taking your jeans off for me?” I huff, watching as he stands up to unbutton and unzip his jeans and shove them down his thighs.

Cassian rolls his eyes at me in response. “Don’t be obtuse. You won’t last long and neither will I. I’ve been waiting for this for way too long and you…” His eyes trail down my body, and I squirm. “Well, I’m certainly not going to leave you disappointed.”

“We’ll see. I’ll rate your performance after on a scale of—” Cassian shoves two fingers in my mouth, surprising me into a muffled protest.

“Do something actually useful with your mouth, Winnie, and clean off my fingers for me like a good girl,” he demands lazily, his other hand slowly stroking up and down his length.

His impressive length. He’s bigger than either of the guys I’ve fucked before, and I whine a question as I taste myself on his fingers, tongue lapping against the pads of them.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is teasing. “Are you scared I won’t fit, sweetheart?” He grins, stroking his fingers against my tongue before pulling them out of my mouth. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Because your dick can grow or shrink at will to fit your partner perfectly?” I ask lamely, voice flat.

“No, my sarcastic little brat. Because I’ll fuck you until you learn to take it and until you’re ruined for anyone else.” He doesn’t give me time to respond. Cass grabs my calf and lifts my leg to hook it over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around my thigh and gripping my waist to hold me in place. My breath catches in my throat as I shift to get more comfortable, heart pounding in my ears.

Fuck , it’s so loud I’m surprised he can’t hear the frenzied, frightened rhythm, too. But if he can, he ignores it, moving forward enough that he can rub his tip teasingly between my folds. By the third time, I’m squirming and anticipation is nearly choking me. “Come on ,” I whine. “Cassian, I’m going to turn fifty before you?—”

He rolls his eyes up to me with a small grin and thrusts in sharply, not stopping even when I howl at the burning stretch. “W-wait!” I gasp. “Oh, fuck you’re too big to just?—”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way to me, sweetheart.” Cassian chuckles darkly. “I think I fit just fine in your sweet, tight pussy. You can take me. I’m almost there.”

My back arches, chest heaving as my toes curl over his shoulder. “You so could go slower,” I whine in protest.

“And you could learn to talk back less when you’re about to get fucked,” is his sweet reply. “Maybe we’ll both learn a lesson from this.” His free hand shoves my hips down, preventing me from going anywhere at all as he finally, slowly , finishes sinking into me until his hips are flush to my body.

And then he just waits; a shudder goes through him and is accompanied by an appreciative groan. “You feel so good, Winnie,” Cassian murmurs. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this…but you’re so much better than anything I’ve imagined.” He lets out a soft, murmured string of curses I can’t hear over the blood rushing in my ears. My muscles clench and flutter around his length as the burn slowly fades to a perfect and satisfying feeling of being so full.

“You can…You should—” His grip on my hip tightens as if in warning and I groan. “Could you please move, Cass? I need?—”

I don’t even get to finish my question. He pulls out before thrusting back in slowly, savoring the slide as I fight not to squirm too much. “Of course I can,” he murmurs. “All you had to do was ask nicely. Anything you want, Winnie.” His voice is rough and low and perfect in my ears. “I’ll give you the world if you ask me to.”

I want to say something sarcastic or taunt him. I want to remark that he’s being dramatic…but when he suddenly slams back into me and makes me see stars, all the words are driven right out of my mind. He does it again, then once more, and before I can do more than catch my breath, Cassian is fucking me in a smooth, rough rhythm that’s better than every way I’ve been fucked before.

But maybe that’s because it’s Cassian .

“You look so pretty getting fucked.” I hear him murmur, his hand on my waist slides down until I feel the brush of his thumb on my clit. I make a soft sound of protest, trying to tell him that if he does that, I really won’t last that long. But if he cares, he certainly doesn’t say it. He strokes over my clit with confident, steady motions that are a counterpoint to the way he fucks me. It’s enough to make my head spin, causing me to feel a little overwhelmed by the two sensations.

I’m not sure how long he does it for.

I know that a litany of praises never stops falling from his lips, though after the first few, my heartbeat is again too loud in my ears for me to make them out. At some point I realize I’m panting, mouth open, rambling my own encouragements and pleas.

“I-I’m gonna come, Cass,” I say finally, feeling that familiar, delicious tightness in my core that makes my thighs tense, my heel digging into his shoulder blade. “I’m?—”

“I know you are, and I want you to. I want to see you come apart on my cock, all for me. Show me how much you love this, sweetheart. Show me how much you want to be mine .” I should protest his words. There’s something in them, something in his voice, that has alarm bells going off in my head, prompting me to sit up and take notice.

But fuck, I can’t. Not when he doubles down and strokes my clit faster, his thrusts becoming unsteady as my thighs tremble. I’m trying to delay my orgasm, if only to spite him.

“Oh, Winnie, don’t do that,” Cass chuckles, as if he can read my mind. “Don’t you want to be my good girl? Don’t you want to come for me? Fuck ,” he curses suddenly. “I didn’t even think about—I can pull out?—”

I hook my leg more tightly over his shoulder. “Got my tubes tied,” I mutter. “So don’t you fucking dare.”

He stares at me for a moment before his grin flashes wide on his face. “Good girl,” he tells me. “ Perfect , Winnie. Come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock. I know you want to. I know you’re dying to come for me.”

I don’t have it in me for any kind of comeback. Witty or otherwise. My release hits me hard, causing my back to arch off my bed as I cry out loudly enough to make my ears ring.

Suddenly I realize it’s a good thing my mom isn’t home, or even in the same county as me, with how loud I’m being.

“ Cassian ,” I keen, when he doesn’t stop stroking over my clit. “Cassian, fuck , that’s?—”

“Are you going to whine for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, suddenly slamming into me with a shuddering groan. His thumb pauses briefly, his grip on my hip tightening as he comes before pulling my leg off of his shoulder and lunging forward to drape himself over me. His hands come up to cup my face as he pulls me into a deep kiss, and this time I wrap my legs loosely around his waist, keeping him inside me.

That makes him chuckle, but I don’t have it in me to feel shy about it. He feels too fucking good, and I’m so warm and fuzzy from my orgasm that I just want to clutch onto him like a sloth and never let go.

At least, not until I’m back in the state of mind to have second thoughts about this.

“I’ll admit…” Cass rolls us onto our sides, dragging me against his chest. He’s still inside me, even though he’s finished riding out his own release by now. “I didn’t expect you to be so affectionate.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” I murmur grumpily against his chest. “So don’t kill the damn moment. Get it?” I peer up at him. “Because you’re a?—”

“I will put you over my lap and spank you if you finish that sentence right now,” Cass informs me smoothly, his eyes narrowing as he looks at me. But I swear I see the twitch of a smile on his lips, and I snort before burying my face into his shoulder.

“You love my sense of humor and you know it,” I say, eyes closing as I drift with the euphoria of my orgasm and the feel of his fingers tracing patterns over my shoulders.

“Sure I do,” Cass chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “You keep telling yourself that, Winnie.”