10. Cassie
CASSIE
The room is still dark when I’m jostled awake.
I don’t immediately know what woke me, but then I feel the foreign sensation of lips trailing across my neck, weight on my pelvis, warmth pressed against my chest.
Panic surges first, this scene too familiar to the nightmare I woke up in last summer. I remind myself of the differences to keep the air from abandoning my lungs. His touch is tender, not violent. I didn’t expect this, but that’s not the same as not wanting it.
I know it’s Tor’s palm squeezing my breast, not Tim’s. I know it’s his face I’ll see if I open my eyes.
I decide against opening them, though, just to be safe.
My heart begins to race, unconvinced the differences aren’t some cruel new trick my mind is playing to lull me into opening my eyes and reliving the same old haunting scene. There are differences, but I don’t know how I got here, so I don’t know if I can trust them.
My music is still playing. That’s evidence that helps ground me in the reality of this moment because my dreams don’t have a soundtrack.
This isn’t a bad memory tricking me into reliving it as a dream. I was awake in a motel room waiting for Tor, thinking about Russell, and catastrophizing about tomorrow…
Tomorrow. When the time Tor bought me finally runs out.
More reality.
All I have is tonight.
Tor Walters dragging his teeth along my jawline, then kissing the side of my mouth.
It’s surreal, but it’s happening.
Despite all he’s done for me, I don’t move this fast.
If this were any other night, I’d stop him, but I’m going to jail tomorrow and prison after that.
I’ll likely spend the rest of my life there, and I doubt there will be a lot of opportunities for meet-cutes.
I’m not a virgin in the technical sense anymore, but I’ve never had sex I really wanted to have, either.
I don’t want to go to prison kind of a virgin.
So, I tilt my neck, allowing him access.
When his hand slides down the front of my panties, I gasp against his shoulder, but I don’t ask him to stop.
He uses his fingers to spread open my pussy, and a long moan slips out of me. Sensations swirl, making my legs tremble. His finger finds my clit like it’s been there before, and I groan, sliding an arm around his muscular back to hold him close.
He sighs against my neck, kissing and then biting as his finger rubs expert circles around my clit. My thighs tremble again, a broken cry slipping out of me as a need that I don’t even understand grows larger inside me.
“Christ, you’re sensitive,” he murmurs against my skin between kisses.
“Is that bad?” I gasp.
He chuckles, caught off guard by the question. “No. It’s not bad.”
He withdraws his finger, though, and I feel the absence immediately. He moves before I can feel too disappointed. His hands find the hem of my oversized T-shirt, and he tugs it up. I lift a little, allowing him to pull it off me.
“Open your eyes,” he demands, tossing my shirt.
I don’t want to, but I can see how having sex with someone who won’t look at you is probably weird for him, so I do.
I’m braced for whatever might get stirred up, seeing a man who looks like Timothy Walters on top of me in the middle of the night, but when I meet his gaze, all I see is Tor. Not the guy who hurt me, but the one who tried to save me.
My chest doesn’t tighten. Maybe the alcohol is helping, but I’m relieved.
I don’t sleep in a bra, and I was too tipsy to get properly dressed before bed, so with my shirt on the floor, panties are all the coverage I have left. The lights are off, but enough moonlight spills in through the window for him to gaze at me appreciatively.
“Beautiful,” he says, lightly dragging the backs of his fingers across my skin.
I smile softly at the unexpected compliment, then sigh when he drops lower, his hot mouth closing around one of my nipples.
Pleasure cascades through me at the sensation.
I arch off the bed as he sucks, my eyes drifting closed again—not to protect myself this time, though.
Not to block out feelings, but to feel them properly.
He teases the sensitive peak with his tongue, circling and flicking. I feel it between my legs when he does.
The cool air hits my skin, wet from his mouth, when he leaves it to lavish the same attention on my other breast.
Once he’s finished feasting there, he kisses his way down my stomach. I feel a flutter of anticipation when he drops even lower and grips my thighs, spreading them wide.
I cry out when his mouth latches onto me and shiver when his tongue takes over where his finger left off, teasing and thrumming my clit.
“Oh god,” I cry, gripping the sheets beneath me.
One hand leaves my thigh and snakes up my body. He grabs my left tit roughly, making me gasp, then he squeezes the nipple, hard at first, then a little lighter as he teases it the same way he’s teasing my clit.
“Oh god,” I cry more sharply, my legs trembling.
My body isn’t used to this level of stimulation. It’s too much too fast.
I come apart with a sharp cry that turns into a whine, my thighs quaking as pleasure rockets through me like fireworks, lighting up every nerve ending, whiting out my vision, and obliterating every thought from my head.
All I can do is feel as ripples of pleasure course through me, intense at first, but then softer, gentler, until I feel so at peace, I might as well be nestled in a cloud. Bliss unfurls inside me, and gratitude along with it.
He kisses my pussy, then pulls back.
I should be mortified, I think.
Or I would, if I still had the capacity for thought.
But no. I am a happy little cloud of pleasure, and there’s nothing else inside my head.
I wish I could stay in this place forever.
Tor rises, and without all the anxious clutter in my mind, I’m able to admire the sheer beauty of him.
He has an athletic build—a toned stomach, a defined chest, strong shoulders, and a muscular back.
He’s gorgeous, but it’s his strength, the way he looks hovering over me, that turns my insides to jelly.
He looks like he could do anything he wants to me, and I know I could never stop him.
That thought threatens to pierce my bliss bubble, so I banish it quickly, but Tor is moving me into a different position, and that threatens the bubble too, because I don’t know what he’s doing.
He grabs my hips, planting himself between my spread thighs and yanking me a little closer.
Oh.
I know what he’s doing.
Last night, there wasn’t time to panic or have second thoughts. But last night he told me it wasn’t really sex, and there’s no illusion of that being the case now.
He brings the head of his cock to my entrance, and I take a deep, steadying breath.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice like gravel.
I try to.
I don’t know if this is happening because it’s part of our alibi again, or if it’s just something he wanted to do. I guess it doesn’t really matter.
He pushes into me, just the tip, but it’s more than I’ve ever allowed, and I gasp at the foreign sensation of feeling my body being invaded.
Last night was a blur, but before that, the time I remember, he was already inside me when I regained consciousness. I didn’t feel the entrance.
I feel it this time.
“Fuck,” he says on a groan.
My body is locked up tight. It doesn’t want to let him in, and I feel every inch of him as he pushes into me anyway.
There’s discomfort in being stretched like this, but it feels nice, too.
It’s a confusing mix of sensations and emotions I try to process as I’m feeling them.
Being filled like this makes my tummy tumble with nerves, but I think they’re leftover from that other experience, not a product of this one.
Once he’s seated all the way to the hilt, Tor’s handsome face almost looks pained.
He lets out a harsh breath, then leans down and claims my lips in a kiss that starts lazy.
He sinks his fingers into my hair as he cradles my head almost possessively.
His kiss turns more aggressive, and when he releases me, he says, “Fuck, your pussy is phenomenal.”
I bite back a smile, pleased, but startled to hear it. “Glad you like it.”
Eyes closed, he kisses my mouth. “It makes me fucking crazy. I want to buy you a house. A car. A castle.”
“Oh.” I laugh a little. “I don’t think I need any of that, but you could buy me a few books. I’ll probably be reading a lot in prison.”
He snorts, giving me one last kiss before pulling back, easing his cock back and then fully sinking into me again. “You’re not going to prison,” he says with some effort.
I am, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.
Neither does he.
His palm runs over my right tit and squeezes it like it belongs to him. His cock eases out, then shoves back into me, a little harder this time, making my breath catch.
When he’s all the way inside me, I feel so full—and not just physically. It’s like we’re both exactly where we belong, fused together like a single entity. Every time he draws back, I feel an emptiness I never noticed before.
He never stays away for long, though. Once my body adjusts to having him inside me, he sets an aggressive pace.
He pulls back and slams into me so hard that the bed moves.
The faster he moves, the faster the tension builds inside me, tighter and tighter with every thrust. He touches me while he fucks me, his greedy hands exploring the new terrain whenever they’re not locked on my hips, bracing me for impact.
In no time at all, I feel myself getting close again, but then he startles me, grabbing my wrists and slamming them down on the bed on either side of me. I gasp, my wide-eyed gaze jumping to his in uncertainty. His jaw is locked, his eyes closed as he pins me down and rams into me.
A wave of fear washes over me. I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling the pull of the past and not wanting to let that memory ruin this one. Not when this is the only one I’ll ever have.