Chapter 6 Hate #3
Then he slowly rose back up the length of her body. His lips slid from her lower belly up to her chest, then to her breasts, and finally up to her neck. Once again, his mouth roamed over her neck possessively.
Juliet felt him fumbling with his pants, and within seconds she felt his hard length press heavily against her.
Her eyes were closed, her head resting back against the mattress as she struggled to breathe. Every breath that left her chest was shaky and uneven, as though she had forgotten how to breathe properly.
He stayed right there, taking from her and then allowing her a moment to recover, only to overwhelm her again.
At the same time, his hard, thick length rubbed against her, and just when she thought he was finally going to let her rest, another tremor of pleasure swept through her body, making her tremble all over again.
He suddenly grabbed her leg, pulling her closer, his hard body pressing against her as he moved over her.
His mouth came up to her face, kissing her cheek, then sliding to her ear where he lingered, before moving down again to her neck, continuing to kiss her neck, then up to her cheeks again, and then back down.
His lips moved with urgency, licking and sucking softly at her skin as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
It became impossible for her to even breathe properly beneath his closeness, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her fingers trembling where they held onto him.
Then suddenly, he let go of her.
The next second, she felt him slide his thick girth inside her, and a sharp pain shot through her body. Juliet stiffened instantly. Her body jerked, her hands flying to his shoulders as she shot upright, breaking the moment.
“It hurts,” she said, her voice trembling as her face tightened in pain. Her body went rigid, her breath catching sharply, her eyes wide in shock.
Cassian froze immediately.
He looked down at her, confusion spreading across his face. His eyes widened slightly as he tried to process her reaction. For a moment, he didn’t move at all, his chest rising and falling slowly as he stared at her.
Then realization hit him.
His expression changed instantly—shock, disbelief, and deep confusion flashing across his features. His gaze dropped for a second, then returned to her face, lingering there.
“This… this is your first time?” he questioned, his voice filled with shock and surprise, his eyes locked on hers.
She opened her eyes, her gaze sliding back to him now that he had stopped. The pain had subsided only slightly. She looked at him, then finally spoke.
“Yeah… it is,” she answered. “Can you be a little gentle?” she asked, her wide eyes looking up at him with a pleading gaze.
Even as she spoke, her hand reached his back and her nails dug lightly into his skin. “It hurts a little.”
“But you were with Vincent?” he asked suddenly, as if he couldn’t fully say the name at first. His voice broke slightly, then steadied as he looked at her with a questioning expression.
She shook her head quickly.
“We didn’t do anything,” she said. “We didn’t even kiss. He wasn’t interested in any of that… and I thought it would be better if we got involved after marriage. But nothing happened.”
Her voice was hesitant, a little stiff, as she explained.
That was enough to shift something in him.
For a moment, they just looked at each other in silence. Juliet stiffened under his gaze, her breathing uneven, her fingers still lightly gripping him.
Then suddenly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her skin in a rough, searching way before he exhaled sharply, as if trying to steady himself. His hand moved to the side of her face, then slid into her hair, holding her gently.
His entire body went rigid again.
Then, just as quickly, she felt him pull back.
Juliet’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” she asked immediately, confusion and frustration flashing across her face.
“We can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained as he forced control over himself. “You’re not ready.”
He reached for her wrists and quickly untied the strip of cloth holding her to the headboard. In moments, her hands were free.
Juliet didn’t move away.
Instead, she shook her head sharply. “No… I am ready,” she said, more firmly this time, her voice shaking but determined. She reached for him, trying to pull him back.
But he shifted away.
In the next moment, she moved with him, climbing closer again, refusing distance. Her breath was uneven, her body flushed, her hair falling around her shoulders as she looked at him with conflicted, trembling intensity.
She immediately reached around and then slid down and climbed on top of him. He looked at her in surprise, but his eyes stayed fixed on her new form in front of him. For a moment, he went completely still.
Her body was tense, rigid with emotion, and her chest was exposed. Her hair was loose around her face, and she looked flushed—marks of his mouth scattered across her throat, her body, and her chest—and that alone was enough to make his control slip further, his body reacting despite himself.
“Don’t do this to me,” Cassian said.
His hands tightened around her hips, holding her firmly in place.
But that only made Juliet lift her gaze and look him straight in the eyes.
“Don’t do this to me,” she whispered.
Her hand moved down and she grabbed him. He stiffened instantly, his breath catching sharply, eyes flashing with shock as his composure cracked.
The next second, she let go and shifted down closer to him, pressing herself against him. His eyes closed for a brief moment as if trying to regain control, then opened again in surprise—but she didn’t give him time to recover.
Her body collapsed forward onto his chest as she gripped his shoulders for support, her face falling against him. She bit down on his shoulder with a sharp gasp of pain, her breath unsteady and shaking.
A low sound escaped her lips as she trembled, overwhelmed by the intensity between them.
“Stay still,” he said immediately, his hands firm and steady on her hips. “Don’t move.”
But she didn’t fully stop—her body still shaking against him, caught between pain and urgency.
“Stay like this,” he repeated, his voice lower now, controlled but strained. “Don’t move.”
His grip remained tight as he held her steady, the tension between them thick, breathless, and unrelenting.
She stayed still until the pain subsided. Only when she could finally breathe properly did she move again.
She started again, slowly at first, then more urgently, her body moving against him in a rhythm that quickly unraveled both of them. His control tightened, then began to slip, his breath growing heavier as he struggled to hold himself together.
She didn’t stop.
Her movements grew more insistent, her body pressing into him repeatedly, unable to pull back now. Her face dropped against his shoulder at times, breath uneven, lips brushing his skin in broken, instinctive kisses. She trembled against him, caught between pain, emotion, and overwhelming need.
He was losing control.