40. Cassidy #4
Evander’s hips speed up, slamming into me so hard that I see stars. I don’t let go of Harlan, swirling my tongue around the tip of his cock, not wanting to miss a drop of his cum.
It’s fucking mine.
Evander’s breathing speeds up, and I know he’s getting close. Harlan’s fingers slide between Ev and I, his thumb pressing against my clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that have me clenching around Evander’s cock.
“Fuck—Cass—” Evander chokes out, his voice breaking as his hips slam forward one final time, his cock pulsing.
Evander’s knot catches, swelling fully inside me, and the sudden fullness pulls a broken sound from my throat around Harlan’s cock. My body clenches around him instinctively, and Evander groans, his forehead dropping to my chest as he continues to pulse inside me.
My orgasm crashes over me, my vision whiting out. I’m distantly aware of Harlan slipping from my mouth as I gasp for air, my body convulsing around Evander’s knot. His arms wrap around me, holding me steady as I shake apart.
Harlan’s hand slides from my hair to my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t realise had fallen. His chest is still heaving as he drops down onto the bed next to me.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and I laugh breathlessly. He presses featherlight kisses along my jawline, as Evander comes down from his own high, still hovering above me. I clutch at the two of them, not wanting either to move, as everything inside me settles.
Evander lowers himself carefully, bracing on his forearms to keep from crushing me, his forehead pressing against mine. His breath is hot and ragged against my lips, and I can feel his heart hammering through his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.
“Okay?” he murmurs, and the tenderness in his voice makes my chest ache.
I nod, unable to form words, and he kisses me—slow, deep, unhurried—as though we have all the time in the world.
Maybe we do.
When Evander pulls back, he moves us so we’re on our sides, me facing him, with my back now to Harlan. Harlan comes closer, wrapping his arm around my waist, pressing as close to me as he possibly can.
Evander’s knot holds us together, and I feel so perfectly, completely claimed. His breath is warm against my forehead, and I can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing.
“Are you comfortable?” Harlan murmurs against the back of my neck, his arm tightening around my waist.
I nod, still not trusting my voice. Evander pulls a blanket from the bottom of the bed, pulling it over the three of us. Taking the hint, Harlan does the same thing, both of them bundling me up so I’m comfortable and warm.
Evander presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there, and I feel the smile curving against my skin.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
The weight of his knot, Harlan’s chest at my back, the blankets piled around us—it’s enough to pull me under.
I’m dozing when Harlan speaks quietly to Evander.
“Do you think I’m okay to go through to my office and work?” he asks quietly.
Evander nods against the side of my head. “Of course. I’m here with her, and if she wakes and needs you, you’re only a tug away.”
Harlan nods, carefully moving away from me, making sure Evander has me settled before he slips from the bed. I whimper softly at the loss of warmth, but Evander pulls me closer, his knot still firmly seated inside me.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my hair. “Go back to sleep, little daisy.”
“Is she okay?” Harlan whispers.
“Yes. Don’t worry,” Evander says gently. “She’s pretty out of it.”
“She usually is after sex. I wish I was. I just get energised.”
Evander laughs. “Could never be me. Give me Cassie and a nap any day.”
Harlan laughs softly, and I feel the mattress shift as he leans over to press a kiss to my temple.
“Sleep well, little luxury,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”
I make a soft sound of acknowledgment, too boneless to form actual words. The door clicks shut behind Harlan, and I’m left in the warm embrace of Evander, his knot still connecting us.
His hand traces lazy patterns on my lower back until I sink deeper under. I’m barely conscious when he whispers against my hair.
“Rest, little daisy. I’ve got you.”
I know he does.
Something brushes gently through my hair.
“Little luxury.”
I make a small sound of protest, burrowing deeper into the warmth surrounding me.
“Come on, Cassidy,” the voice murmurs.
I grumble, and there’s a soft laugh.
“I know, little luxury.”
The mattress dips beside me, and warm fingers stroke slowly across my shoulder.
“But I really need your brain for five minutes.”
I crack one eye open.
The room is dark now, save for the warm glow spilling in from the hallway. It takes me a second to remember where I am and an even longer one to realise I’m alone beneath the blankets.
“Where’s Van?” I ask sleepily.
“In the kitchen making some tea.”
I blink blearily up at Harlan. “What time is it?”
“Just after ten.”
I stare at him, my brain whirring. I’ve slept for like… three hours.
I’m an idiot, taking an extended nap before bed.
“I’ve slept for ages.”
“You have,” Harlan says.
“You let me sleep for ages,” I correct, narrowing my eyes at the alpha.
“Mhm.”
“You’re meant to be feeling guilty.”
His mouth twitches. “I can’t lie, but I’ve used the time far too usefully to feel guilty.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Get up, and I’ll show you,” he says, already halfway to the door, dark blonde hair falling across his forehead.
I push myself upright with a groan, immediately wrapping the blanket around my shoulders like a cocoon, honey brown hair falling messy and tangled over one shoulder.
My hair is definitely a mess, and judging by the amused look Harlan is trying very hard to suppress, I probably have pillow creases across my face, too.
“What?” I mumble, shivering where I sit.
“You look cute.”
“I don’t. I know I look feral,” I protest.
“Both things can be true.”
I narrow my eyes. “I preferred grumpy Harlan who didn’t give me backhanded compliments.”
“Liar.” He waggles his brow. “We both know those were the only types I gave.”
I sigh, stretching myself out the best I can. He chuckles, then his expression shifts back to the same focused excitement he had when waking me.
“I think I’ve got it.”
“Got what?” I ask, yawning through my words.
I’ve got no right to still be exhausted.
“The campaign for Aurelion. I know how to fix it.”
Sleep evaporates just enough for me to frown. “What? How?”
“Well, when you were taking your after sex snooze, I was using my energy to do a bit of work,” he says. “I had a brainwave.”
“Glad to be of service,” I say, ruining the snark by yawning again.
His eyes are brighter than they’ve been all week, and it’s good to see.
“I need to know if it works,” he says.
“That’s brilliant.” I smile, reaching for his hand. “You should show Hallie first thing tomorrow.”
“No.”
“No? Do you want to call her tonight? I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“I want to show you.”
I blink, looking around the room as if some other you is going to show up.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Harlan…” I laugh softly. “I’m hardly qualified to help you navigate something this huge.”
“I don’t care,” he says with a shrug. “You’re the person’s opinion I care most about. The person I want to share my wins with. The person who will be honest and supportive. You’re the person I love most.”
I sniffle, my eyes watering, as I feel how much he means it through the bond.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeats quickly. I smile. “Okay. Get up, get up.”
I laugh. “Can you grab me something to wear? I need to quickly use the toilet, and then get dressed, then I’m all yours.”
He jumps up off the bed, yanking a T-shirt off the hanger from the top, and tosses it to me.
Opening his chest of drawers, he grabs a pair of underwear I’ve never seen before.
They’ve got tags on and are my size.
Wow, okay, we’ll discuss that later.
I grab the clothing options, go through to his en-suite, and get myself sorted.
I can feel his impatience through the bond, so I try to be quick, but honestly, after falling asleep knotted, things are a little… messy.
When I leave the bathroom, Harlan immediately stands and offers me his hand, his hazel eyes bright.
“Come and tell me what you think,” he says pleadingly.
I slip my hand into his and let him lead me down the stairs towards his office.
The door is already open, but I come to a sudden stop on the threshold.
Mood boards cover almost every available surface.
Fabric swatches spill across the floor.
Printouts are taped to walls.
A half-empty mug is on his desk, alongside an array of marker pens, pencils, and fineliners.
Fuck me, he needs to put the lids on these pens. Does he know how much they cost?
Between all of that, the random colour palettes and half-scrawled sketches, it’s all formed into chaos across every inch of the room.
“Harlan…”
He glances back at me, completely unfazed. “What?”
I look around the room once more. “I think your office exploded.”
He waves me off. “That’s not what I brought you to see. What do you think?”
He gestures wide with his arm, and I get the feeling his idea is threaded through all of this.
Oh, fuck.
“I think you should walk me through it,” I say with a smile. “Show me it, please.”
He nods and takes me inside to explain the genius of his brain.
I’m glad he’s thought to share it with me.
I still don't think I deserve to be the first person he wants to show. But I hope, more than anything, that he’s finally fixed it.