Chapter 26 #2
He retrieved the cravat, the silk still warm from where it had lain against the sheets. “Give me your wrists.”
She extended her arms above her head, and the trust in that simple gesture made something fierce and possessive roar to life in his chest. He wound the soft fabric around her wrists with deliberate care, securing them just tight enough to hold but never to hurt, then pressed the bindings gently into the headboard above her head.
“Too much?” he murmured against her shoulder blade, kissing the tender skin there.
“No…” she breathed shakily. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He pressed a trail of kisses down her spine, savoring every shiver and gasp he drew from her. His hands gripped her hips firmly as he positioned himself behind her, and when he entered her again from this new angle, they both cried out.
Deeper. Fuller. Devastating.
“Sweet hell, Cecilia...” he groaned through clenched teeth.
He began to move with purpose, his grip on her hips commanding as he drove into her. Every thrust drew the most intoxicating sounds from her throat—breathless whimpers and broken cries of his name that made his blood run molten.
One hand splayed possessively across her lower back, feeling the flex and curve of her body as she rocked back to meet him. The other reached forward to grasp the silk binding her wrists, using it as leverage to pull her back onto him with each powerful stroke.
“Christ, you feel—” he couldn’t finish the sentence, too lost in the exquisite heat of her, the way her body yielded to him yet met him with equal fervor.
“Cassian!” His name tore from her lips.
After several long, drugging moments of this sweet torment, he released her wrists and slid his arm around her waist, hauling her up so they were both on their knees, her back flush against his sweat-slicked chest. The new position seated him impossibly deeper, and she cried out, her bound hands reaching back to clutch desperately at his hair.
His lips found the curve where her neck met her shoulder.
“Mine,” he growled against her skin, punctuating the word with a particularly deep thrust that made her shudder.
One hand cupped her breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak, while the other splayed possessively across her stomach, holding her tight against him as he moved.
She turned her head, seeking his mouth blindly, and he captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her keening cries. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him to her as if afraid he might pull away.
“I need...” she gasped against his mouth, “I need...”
“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured roughly, his hand sliding lower. “I know exactly what you need.”
The tension coiled tighter and tighter between them, a living thing that threatened to consume them both.
Sensing they were both near the precipice, he gently lowered her forward and carefully turned her onto her back, his fingers making quick work of the silk at her wrists.
He tossed the cravat aside and gathered her close, settling between her thighs once more, their eyes locking in the lamplight.
This. This was what he'd needed—to see her face, to watch her come undone. Wrapping his hands underneath her knees, he heaved her closer to position himself better before thrusting inside her again.
“How far are you?” he asked shakily. “Are you about to shatter with me inside you?”
“I’m… I’m almost there,” she gasped. “Just on the brink.”
Groaning, he shuttled hard inside as his hand snuck between her and his thumb found her pearl, rubbing the slick nub in time with his thrusts. The tether of control she had snapped, and she began thrashing beneath him. He rubbed her faster and faster, as his hips snapped harder and harder.
Heat sizzled up his spine and his blood as he drilled himself inside her snug sheath, deeper and deeper still, taking what was his, what she’d never given to any man before.
“Cass—”
With a tight press to her bud, she went rigid, her back bowing off the rumpled sheets like a seraphic goddess.
Her cries of completion rang through the air as her body contracted hard around him.
With a thick roar, he withdrew and shot hotly over the sheets in a release that seemed to go on forever.
Finally, he felt the last shudders die, and he at last could suck in a breath. Weakly, he sank to the pillows beside her.
Cecilia was a deliciously wanton sight, her golden hair lay in a tangled mess over the pillows, her skin flushed red, and her lips were swollen from his kisses. Reaching for her, he cradled her into his arms, and she willingly went. Smiling, he kissed her temple.
“I hope that was all you thought it would be,” he murmured in her ear.
Her eyes fluttered open, and the echoes of blissful pleasure inside her eyes made his chest puff with pride.
“It was better than I could have ever imagined…” she said breathlessly.
She chewed on her bottom lip, and he curled a brow. “What?”
“I—” she paused. “Now that I know how this feels, I—I may have judged you too—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish as he roared with laughter.
When Cecilia woke later that night, Cassian was not far off; he was at his desk, working by lamplight. Quietly, she took the opportunity to admire him in secret. He was dressed in a dark silk dressing gown, and with his dark hair brushing his collar, he looked very mysterious.
The soft glow of the lamp brushed his skin golden, and she watched as he methodically worked. His eyes flickered down a line in a book near him before he continued to write.
He paused to rest the pen on the blotter, then reached back and rubbed the nape of his neck. As the strong planes of his neck were bared, Cassian asked, “See something you like, darling?”
Cecilia felt like a child caught sneaking sweets from the cook’s cupboard. “You knew I was watching?”
“Of course,” he stretched languidly, revealing glimpses of his trunk-like forearms and the corded muscles across his shoulders. “Every good rake has developed a sixth sense for who is watching them.”
She sat up in bed, taking the blanket with her; sitting against the headboard, she finger-combed through her tangled hair. “I suppose being a rake… comes with its benefits.”
The scrape of his chair made her wince a little. He padded barefoot to her side and leaned in to cage her chin. He twisted her head and skimmed his fingers over a tender, red mark on her neck. She shivered.
“I’d say.”
He shed his robe and climbed into the bed, and Cecilia straddled him. Instantly, his large hands dropped to her hips.
“I think I now know why you wanted to use the French Letters,” she said.
He hummed. “Gentlemen rarely accept a child that is not theirs, regardless of who the mama is.”
Walking her fingers up his chest to rest her palm over his heart, she asked, “Did you ever want children?”
“Once upon a time, perhaps,” he murmured. “But the world is an ugly place, Cece, and I’d be damned if I brought someone into this world to let them suffer. And before you say it—yes, we can shield them for as long as we can, but there is always going to be a day when we cannot.”
“And that terrifies you.”
“No, it sickens me.” Sliding his hand into her damp tresses, he cupped her face. “But I suppose you do, and when I am gone, you’ll have the freedom to do it.”
“I told you,” her face fell, “I don’t want to marry—”
“Now,” he stopped her. “You don’t want it now, but think about the years ahead, two years, four, fifteen years even. I will not stop you from getting what you truly desire.”
She wanted to object, but realistically, wasn’t he right? It rubbed her raw, though. She could not believe it herself. Her shoulders wilted, “I—I don’t want to fight about that, not when you are so close to leaving.”
A crafty grin curved his lips. “What do you suggest we do instead?”
“You are insufferable,” she smiled before leaning in to kiss him.
Halfway through the kiss, he tipped her back on the bed and covered her body with his. Falling back, he peeled the sheets from her body and, gazing down at her breasts, he murmured, “You are as beautiful as a symphony.”
A warm rush flooded her heart, but it was soon chased by a horrible sinking feeling. She had barely seventy-two hours to enjoy the pleasure of his company before he was gone, possibly forever.
She smiled, hiding the pain deep down. “Can you go beyond last night?”
His brows shot up, but a knowing smirk curled his lips. “You tell me by morning light.”