Chapter 27 Cassius
CASSIUS
She never left. She never stopped thinking about me.
I never stopped thinking about her.
A thousand and one clever responses came to mind, but if there was one thing I’d learned through the years, it’s that oftentimes, the softest touch produced the most profound effects. The less I said, the better.
It was a risk what I was about to do next, but in some ways, it wasn’t risky at all.
Sarah and I, standing right here, holding hands, had said so much to each other without ever taking a breath or opening our mouths.
It was as sure a bet as anything as I’d made in my life, and it was one I would take in this spot a hundred times out of a hundred.
I leaned in to kiss her.
And without hesitation, with no part of her holding back, Sarah pressed into my arms, not just taking my kiss but increasing its passion with her own touch. She didn’t just embrace my body; she tugged on it. She never stopped thinking about me.
I never stopped thinking about her.
It’s time to show her what, exactly, I’ve been thinking about.
I pulled back for the only thing I needed to say before we ripped into the clothes off part.
“Let’s get inside,” I said. “It's a bit chilly in November to be outside.”
Sarah growled—she fucking growled, how fucking incredible—and pulled me inside. It wasn’t even her own penthouse, and she was the one in control. I had no idea how much of the past few days had been spent in internal conflict, but apparently, the monster within wasn’t just something I faced.
We barely made it inside and to my bedroom before both our shirts were already off, pants right behind that.
We stumbled to the bed, basically blind fools to what lay before us as it seemed like a race to see who would get the other's clothes off first. And who could be blamed? When you’d spent over a decade apart and weeks thinking you wanted to literally destroy the other person…
but actually, you wanted to take them in a different way, there was no time to waste.
By the time we had made it to the bed, her hands were down my pants, stroking my stiff cock. I murmured and almost let her take full control of the situation. Fuck, she was so horny and so into it that it almost seemed foolish to let her have the reins.
But I was Cassius Vale, right? I did things my way and on my terms, right?
Which was why I pushed her off of me, sat to her side, and slid my fingers to her clit.
She kept a grip on me, yes, but as I worked her like a violin, strumming and carefully working her, her grip faded, reverting to something she barely remembered to keep a hold on.
Gradually, the violin playing became faster, moving down the spectrum of fingering instruments until I had her screaming bloody murder.
She grabbed a pillow from behind her, put it over her face, and screamed into it as she writhed on my hand.
I was sure I was making her come, but I wasn’t going to stop until she physically forced my hand away from her.
If that meant I had her coming for over a minute, well, I was Cassius Vale.
When I had what I wanted, I didn’t just move on to the next; I fucking relished it.
And with Sarah, I made sure she fucking relished it too.
Finally, barely able to breathe, she pushed my hand away.
I sat there, having not been stroked in over a good minute but even more erect than when we started, taking immense satisfaction in what I had done.
There was no denying we were in it for the long haul…
but just because we had that emotional bond didn’t mean the physical one had to get left out to wither.
Fuck no, are you kidding me? The best sex of Sarah’s life was going to be the next time we fucked; that was my promise to both of us.
“That was masterful,” she said breathlessly.
I was so tempted to make an art pun, but once more, less was more. Let her sit with the overwhelming rush; let her sit with the pleasure that enveloped her and pulsed through her. There was no rush. If anything, the longer I waited for my turn, the more enthralling my orgasm would be.
“Holy fuck.”
I chuckled, but again said nothing. Sarah still had the pillow over her face; she had only moved it up some so she could speak. Lying there, naked, her pussy pulsing wet by my hand, I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced a more satisfying moment in my life.
“Your turn.”
Until, well, maybe the next few minutes.
Sarah sat up, put a hand on my chest, and pushed me to the bed. I was more than happy to close my eyes and surrender to the feeling; it wasn’t very often that I surrendered control. Even with other women in the past, I’d had to be the one to control everything from start to finish.
Maybe, I thought in the half-second before Sarah wrapped her lips around my dick, that was as big a sign as any that Sarah and I were destined for forever. No one, not even past Sarah, had made me surrender control so willingly, so easily, so without thought. Sure, it was easy during sex.
Actually, no, during sex it was harder, because it was my most intimate and my most vulnerable. But here I was, letting her have her way with me. If I could do that here…
Well, those thoughts would have to wait, because good God, Sarah seemed to know my body like it was one of her pieces of art.
I had thought she’d just go at it with the speed and forcefulness we’d gotten into bed with, but she was actually a master of tempo.
She’d go fast when things seemed to slow down, then relax and stare into my eyes.
And fuck me, those green eyes about damn made me come just from the way she was looking at me.
“Having fun?” she said.
It wasn’t just the words she said. The way she spoke, the laugh that punctuated it—it all suggested that even if I hadn’t been willing to surrender control, Sarah would have taken it anyway. She never stopped thinking about me.
Including, apparently, how to control me.
She’s doing a damn good job.
“Yes,” I barely got out.
Sarah just laughed, rose from her crouched position, and then crawled toward me.
“Then enjoy even more what’s about to happen,” she said, “Cassius.”
She put me inside her, pressed her hands against my chest, and rode me. I didn’t have to do anything but grab her body when I wanted; she did all the work to bring herself to a second—third?—orgasm, all the while bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
Past Cassius would never have let me come from here, because it gave the woman the power.
Past Cassius would probably have put her in doggy style, because I didn’t particularly like looking women in the eye when I came.
But I wasn’t past Cassius, the man who was at all times part billionaire, part monster, part human.
I was just Cassius Vale, a man in love with Sarah Carpenter. I could just be where I was.
And with that mental block gone, the physical one faded to the side.
It took hardly any time from that point forward for my climax to approach, but I wasn’t in this game to last as long as possible.
I was in this to connect with Sarah, to culminate our shared intimacy after years and weeks of pretending otherwise.
Just as I was about to come, I pulled her in for a deep kiss, wrapping my arms around her and bear-hugging her.
I closed my eyes, pressed my lips onto hers, and came inside her with a ferocious, guttural groan.
The whole thing might have lasted five, six seconds, but at the moment, I knew instantly I would never forget it.
Gradually, the physical comedown had. But the emotional bond only seemed to strengthen. The longer I looked at Sarah, the more I regretted waiting so long to tell her the truth. But then, the more joy I felt at finally having made this relationship real.
She got off me, rolled to the side, and cuddled against me. That was another thing past Cassius would have never allowed.
But past Cassius was gone, or at the very least just one part of the larger whole
As we lay on the bed, our respective breaths coming back to us, a thought popped into my mind that I initially felt almost fearful of.
What would Virgil think?
I didn’t love that post-orgasm, in the bliss that was our reunion, my thoughts went to my dead brother. But then it slowly made sense. He was family; he got a vote in my actions as much as any of my brothers.
And I knew Virgil would approve.
Virgil had always approved of Sarah. He knew she was always a responsible, caring, empathetic, touching partner for me. If he could have said one last thing before his death, he would have said, “Love her.”
And now, as I listened to Sarah’s gentle breathing, I knew there was one last thing to say before we ended the night.
“Sarah,” I said gently. A million other thoughts entered my mind.
Should I made a vow to protect her forever, against Morrils and Reapers alike?
Should I promise to promote her art until my money ran out?
Should I, would I, could I? Every thought I had could be captured in three words.
Less is more. The less I say, the better.
So say only that.
“I love you.”
I heard her gulp. Anxiety hit my chest for a split second. I both craved and feared reading her mind.
And then she said the best possible thing.
“I love you too, Cassius.”