Chapter 26
The bang of the door locking in place came seconds before Cecilia was gently rested on the edge of Cassian’s bed. He paused only a heartbeat before leaning in to claim her mouth with his.
When their lips met, however, hers had parted on the softest of sighs. He deepened the kiss, and she kissed him back with equal fervor. He made a low sound in his throat, the demanding thrust of his tongue made her shiver.
Cassian drew away from her lips and dropped to one knee before unlacing and pulling her half-boots from her feet. Her hands slithered into his raven hair, and she rubbed the back of his neck while he removed the second boot.
Rising, he undid his own boots and began to slip the buttons of his waistcoat out. Watching the tight cloth slip from his shoulder made Cecilia’s breath hitch. Getting to her feet, she undid his cravat and let the soft cloth slide from her fingers.
Plucking the cloth before it could fall to the floor, Cassian murmured, “We are going to use that soon.”
“…How?”
His grin held a sliver of evil. “You’ll see.”
Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her again. His lips roved agonizingly slowly, and his kiss deepened until she was almost gasping. She broke away for air, and his mouth strayed to the curve of her jaw and down to the column of her throat.
His lips seared a necklace of kisses over her collarbone—she gripped his shoulder and arched her back with a whimper. His rough fingers roved up the back of her dress, and Cecilia felt the heat of his hand through the fabric and the graze of his stubble on her neck.
His fingers tickled her nape as he undid the hooks and the ties of her waist. Her heart took residence in her throat as he peeled the lapels down her shoulders.
He bared her with care, then glided off his shirt—the sculpted breadth of his chest catching her breath—before slipping her out of her chemise too. Her first instinct was to throw her arms across her breasts, but he took her wrists lightly and guided them away.
“Don’t hide yourself from me, my darling sin,” he murmured seductively while tugging her wrists away. “I want to see all of you.”
When she was able to pry them aside and reveal the fullness of her breasts, the reverence in his gaze had him whispering, “Perfection.”
He gathered her against him, guiding them toward the bed, every step deliberate.
As he sank onto the mattress, he pulled her with him, their bodies aligning in a sweet, irresistible press.
His rough hands slid up her sides, and the scrape of his calluses made her squirm and quiver in agonizing pleasure.
Grasping her waist, he flipped them, and she landed on her back; her breath punched out as his wet tongue dipped to seal around a rosy nipple. Arching into his mouth, she clawed at the sheets with one hand and clutched his raven tresses with the other.
“Gorgeous,” he murmured, the vibrations striking every chord in her body.
His thumb flickered over her other nipple, and she groaned at the shock of bliss. She bit her lip against a moan as he gently rolled her sensitive bud between finger and thumb.
“Does that please you, my sweet, sweet temptress?” he suckled worshippingly. “Does it please you when I touch you here?”
“You—” she gasped, “—you know it does. It’s… nice…”
He pulled away. “I can do better than nice.”
His mouth traced a streak of fire down her middle while he cocked her knee up so his fingers could tease the tender skin underneath. His lips teased her inner thighs, coasting up and down but never too close to where she needed him most.
“Cassian!”
His throaty chuckle on her skin was dark. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“You devil…” she gasped as a wayward finger teased in the soft curls between her thighs. “Stop teasing me!”
He immediately lifted to his haunches and slid both hands under her hips. She was not prepared for when he spun her over, and she landed on her belly. His muscular body interlaced perfectly against her spine, and she felt the hard trunk of his manhood against the back of her thigh.
His mouth found her ear. “Stay put.”
The dark desire she heard in his voice made her tremble, and she did not shift an inch until she heard his feet pad back to the side of the bed.
“Good girl,” Cassian purred. “You did not move. I believe that deserves a reward.”
The bed dipped as he straddled her thighs and began to kiss down her spine; his hands tracing down her waist. As he feathered kisses along the small of her back, the scrape of glass on glass met her ears, and then something drizzled down the graceful line of her spine. Oil.
“Cassian,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
“You are still a little tense, sweetheart,” he growled, as he worked the oil—sandalwood, she smelled—into her skin and released tension she had not noticed was there. He massaged the oil down her legs and dug his thumbs into her arches.
She moaned, her body melting into the bed the more he stroked and rubbed and kneaded. He returned to the hollow of her back before rubbing his hands against her inner thighs and teasing her core.
Pleasure spiked through Cecilia as she felt him dip between her legs and circle the tip of one finger at her opening; she bit her lower lip and whimpered audibly.
“Sweet hell, so devilishly wet…” She lifted her hips to encourage his touch. He spread her slickness down her folds and circled her nub. “But let’s get you a little bit wetter…”
He skimmed around her upper thigh and bookended his fingers around her throbbing nub. She rocked her hips back and forth, settling into his rhythm. The pressure on her bud increased, and waves of pleasure rose and rose, one on top of the other, until she was very nearly about to burst.
Cassian slowed, then gently turned her on her back and knelt between her legs before cocking her thighs over his shoulders.
Finding the oil again, he dribbled more on her between the hollow of her breasts.
Cupping them softly, he began to massage and flicker her nipples so sensually, Cecilia felt pure nirvana.
With his other hand, he began to stroke her lower, and she moaned deeply, back bowing off the bed as she surrendered to his mastery of her body.
“Cassian…” she reached for him in her daze. “Please… I feel I am about to combust.”
“That would be the sandalwood oil,” he smirked boyishly.
“You aggravate me,” she whispered shakily before pulling him down for a kiss. Drawing away, she demanded, “Now, please.”
He reached for a small white box that she had not noticed he had added beside the bottle of oil. He pulled the prophylactic out—a tube of thin sheep gut and red strings.
“French letters,” she said.
His brow lifted. “You know about those? And here I thought you were an innocent.”
She reddened, “I may have… overheard a few ladies talking.”
He chuckled deeply as he made to sheath himself, but she stopped him with her words, “No… don’t. Not my first.”
Without as much as a second thought, he dropped it. Leaning in, he kissed her lavishly, then cocked her legs over his thighs again. “You are sure, Cecilia?”
“Yes, I… I need to feel this was real.”
Gripping the base of him, Cassian gently ran the bulging head over her opening; they both groaned at the touch, and as he gently pushed in, her tight channel clamped the tip of his shaft—and despite his preparation, her intimate muscles resisted him.
“You are truly untried,” he ground his jaw tight. He went slow, not wanting to hurt her. “Are you hurting?”
“No—” she held his upper arms tight; her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth. “Just… go slow.”
Bracing one hand over her head, he held himself in check as tight, wet heat enveloped his length. Sweat prickled his forehead as he eased forward another inch. As he molded them into one, he made sure to watch her face, the agonizing pleasure, the entire time.
As pleasurable as he felt with her so tight around him, he knew she had to feel some discomfort. The moment she winced, he stopped, allowing her passage time to give way.
Her hand slid down his pectorals, “I feel so… full.”
He dropped his head to her throat and kissed it. “Wait until I am all inside, sweet.”
“Continue,” she whispered breathily. “Please...”
Taking her word, he pressed forward, and he saw the moment she winced. Pressing his mouth to hers, he tried to soothe her; even though he’d taken her maidenhead, being this deep inside her had to be tender.
Finally, with a long, hot glide… he was inside her, filling her so completely. “Bloody hell, you feel good,” he rasped out.
Her pelvis tilted, and she gasped softly, and with no further invitation, he began to move, withdrawing and returning in slow strokes, tempering his motions while watching her face the whole while.
Hungry to devour her expression as well as her pleasure, he memorized every sign of her bliss: the flush sweeping from her cheeks over her bobbing breasts, the soft part of her lips as she gasped, and the tightening of her legs as she met his thrusts.
He craved the feel of her damp skin as she moved with him, and a dark, dark need to possess her swept over him. He plunged with greater force, harder, deeper, wanting everything from her. He thrust to the hilt, embedding himself fully.
“Oh God…” she moaned throatily, and he consumed her mouth with ferocity.
His gaze flicked to his discarded cravat from earlier, where it lay cast-aside among the rumpled sheets, and a slow, sinful smile curved his lips.
“Trust me?” he rasped, pulling away, his movements slowing to an agonizing crawl.
Her eyes, dark and hazy with desire, found his. “Always.”
He withdrew completely, eliciting a desperate whimper of protest from her lips that sent satisfaction coursing through his veins. “Turn over for me, sweetheart. On your hands and knees.”
She obeyed without hesitation, and the sight of her like this—willing, waiting, trusting—nearly shattered his composure entirely. The graceful arch of her spine, the way her hair tumbled forward... He had to close his eyes for a heartbeat to maintain control.