Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty Four
Cassian
The job was a bust. A no-show. I should be pissed off, the wasted time is a sour taste in my mouth. But all I feel is a low, insistent hum under my skin. A pull. I need to go back.
It’s been less than an hour. She’ll be fine. She’s locked in. Safe. But the word feels like a lie. She’s not safe. She’s with me.
The drive back is too slow. Every red light is a personal insult.
The image of her sleeping in my bed this morning, looking so fucking peaceful, is burned into my mind.
It’s a weakness. A crack in the armor I can’t afford.
I tell myself I’m just checking on my investment.
My prisoner. But it’s a lie, and I know it.
I take the stairs two at a time, the sound of my boots echoing in the stairwell. I pull out my key, the metal cool against my skin. I just need to see her. Just a glance, to make sure she hasn't somehow vanished into thin air. To make sure she's real.
The moment the key slides into the heavy lock, I know something is wrong.
It’s not a sound. It’s a feeling. A shift in the atmosphere of the loft that I can sense through the thick steel door. The air inside is charged with it. Fear.
I turn the deadbolt, the sound unnaturally loud. I push the door open and step inside, my eyes scanning the room in a single, sweeping motion.
And there she is.
She’s standing in the middle of the floor, frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
Her chest is rising and falling too fast. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, a cornered animal’s panic in them.
She’s caught. Red-handed. My warning, not even an hour old, still hanging in the air between us.
Don't go looking for things that don't concern you.
I close the door behind me, the slide of the deadbolt a final, damning sound. I walk toward her slowly, my boots silent on the concrete. I don't look at what she might have been doing. I look only at her. I watch the frantic pulse beating in her throat.
"What were you doing?" My voice is quiet. Dangerously quiet.
"Nothing." The word comes out as a choked whisper. "I... I dropped a glass of water. I was just cleaning it up."
The lie is so pathetic, so transparent, it’s almost an insult.
She thinks I’m an idiot. She thinks she can play me.
I stop directly in front of her, invading her space, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at me.
I can smell her fear. It’s a sharp, intoxicating scent.
My gaze drops to the floor around her feet, then slowly travels back to her face.
"There's no water, Aria."
I see the flicker of desperation in her eyes as she scrambles for a follow-up. Before she can speak, I slam my hand flat against the wall next to her head. The crack of the impact echoes through the loft. She flinches, a small, satisfying gasp escaping her lips.
"Don't. Lie. To me." The words are a low, guttural growl torn from deep in my chest. A white-hot rage, pure and absolute, floods my veins. The rage isn't just that she defied me. It's that she's hiding something. It's that a piece of her is still beyond my reach.
I don’t give her a chance to answer. I crush my mouth to hers.
It’s not a kiss. It’s an assault. An invasion.
I’m trying to devour the lie, to force the truth out with sheer, brutal pressure.
She’s stiff, unresponsive for a second, and then a broken little sound vibrates against my lips.
I angle my head, forcing her mouth open, my tongue plunging inside to claim every inch of her.
I back her against the cold wall, my body pinning hers.
My blood is roaring in my ears, a storm of fury and a darker, more possessive need.
She lied. After I brought her into my home, my world, she defied me.
My hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head to the side, exposing the long, pale column of her throat.
I bite down on the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark.
She cries out, her hands coming up to push against my chest.
It’s useless. I’m stronger, bigger, and right now, I’m fucking furious. "Tell me," I breathe against her skin, my lips moving against the mark I just made. "Tell me what you were doing."
She shakes her head, a sob catching in her throat. "Nothing. I swear."
Another lie. The defiance fuels the fire. My hand moves from her hair, sliding down her body to the button of her jeans. She stiffens, her breath hitching. "Cassian, don't—"
I don't let her finish. I rip the button open, the sound of the zipper tearing down a final, sharp violation.
My hand slides beneath the denim, cupping her, feeling the heat and moisture there.
She gasps, her back arching against the wall.
Even in her terror, her body betrays her and that, more than anything, is what I want.
I want her to know that even when she defies me, she still belongs to me.
I press two fingers inside her, her slick heat coating me instantly. She cries out, a raw, broken sound. I move my thumb, finding the hard nub of her clit and pressing down, circling. Her eyes squeeze shut.
"Look at me," I command, my voice rough.
Her eyes flutter open, swimming with tears and a confusing mix of fear and arousal.
"Tell me the truth, Aria," I grind out, my hips pressing her into the wall, letting her feel how hard I am. "What did you find?"
"Please," she begs, and it’s the wrong answer.
I pull my fingers out of her and in one swift motion I lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist. She clings to me out of sheer instinct. I position myself at her entrance. Hot, slick, and ready. "Last chance," I whisper, my lips brushing hers.
She just shakes her head, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.
"Fine," I hiss. "We'll do this the hard way."
I drive into her, hard and deep, burying myself to the hilt in one powerful, punishing thrust. Her scream is swallowed by my mouth as I kiss her again savagely.
There's no tenderness here. Every thrust is a question. Every angle is an accusation. I’m trying to fuck the truth out of her, to shatter her composure until there’s nothing left but raw honesty.
Her nails dig into my back, her head thrashes from side to side.
Her body is mine, moving with me, taking me, but her mind…
her mind is a fortress. I can feel her holding something back, a core of defiance that I can’t seem to break.
"You're lying," I snarl against her ear, my rhythm becoming more punishing, more erratic. "You're still fucking lying to me."
I feel her tighten around me, a telltale sign that she's close. She's trying to use her own pleasure as a shield, to get lost in the sensation and escape the interrogation. I'm not having it. Just as she teeters on the brink, I pull out. She sobs, a raw, frustrated sound.
"On your knees," I command, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.
I set her down, and she stumbles, her legs shaking. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and pleading. I grab a handful of her hair and force her down. She falls to her knees on the hard floor with a thud. Her jeans are still around her ankles, trapping her, making her vulnerable.
"Open your mouth," I growl.
She hesitates for a second, and I tighten my grip in her hair.
She gasps, and I take the opportunity to thrust myself between her lips.
I waste no time, setting a brutal pace, fucking her face, my hips moving with a relentless, punishing rhythm.
I can feel her throat constricting around me, hear her gagging, but I don't stop.
I want to see her lose control, to see her composure shatter.
"Yeah, that's it," I grit out, my head falling back as the pleasure courses through me. "Take it all. Fucking take it."
I can feel my own release building, a tidal wave of pleasure that's about to crest, but I'm not done with her yet.
With a herculean effort, I pull back leaving her gasping for breath, spit and pre-cum dripping from her swollen lips.
I haul her to her feet and drag her over to the bed, shoving her down onto the mattress.
"Get on your hands and knees," I order. "Now."
She scrambles to obey, her movements clumsy, her body trembling. I'm behind her in an instant, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto me. I thrust into her, hard and deep, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal, possessive stroke.
"Tell me," I snarl, my hips snapping against hers, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. "Tell me what you're hiding."
She just shakes her head, her face buried in the blankets. I reach around, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in tight, punishing circles. She cries out, her body arching, her back bowing. I can feel her walls fluttering around me, a telltale sign that she's on the verge.
"Don't you dare come," I warn, my voice a low growl. "Not until you tell me the truth."
She whimpers, a raw, broken sound. "I can't…"
"Yes, you can," I grit out, my fingers working her clit faster, harder. "You will."
I lean over her, my chest pressed against her back, my lips brushing her ear. "Tell me, Aria," I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. "Or I swear to god, I will keep you on this edge for the rest of the night."
I straighten up, pulling out of her with a slick, wet sound. Before she can protest I flip her over, my movements fluid and economical. She's on her back now, her legs spread wide, her chest heaving. I'm between her thighs in an instant, my cock nudging at her entrance.
"Open your eyes," I command.
She does, and the look in them is a chaotic mix of fear, defiance, and a desperate, pleading arousal. I drive into her, hard and deep, a punishing thrust that steals her breath. I set a brutal pace, my hips snapping against hers, my gaze locked on hers.