Chapter 20 – Cassandra #2
He studied me for a long moment, his jaw tight.
Then he nodded. “Okay. A few days.”
Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by dread.
Because a few days wasn’t enough.
A few days wouldn’t change the truth.
And when I finally told him, it was going to destroy us.
***
Drew’s hands moved to the back of my dress, his fingers finding the delicate buttons that ran down my spine.
“Let me help you,” he murmured.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He worked slowly, carefully, undoing each button with a patience that made my chest ache. His knuckles brushed against my bare skin, and I shivered.
When the dress finally fell away, pooling at my feet, I stood there in nothing but my lingerie—soft white lace that Hailey had insisted I buy.
Drew’s eyes darkened. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. “You have no idea.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to let myself fall into this moment and forget about everything else.
So I did.
I reached up, tangled my fingers in his hair, and pulled him down into a kiss.
It started soft. Gentle. A question.
But then it deepened, turned desperate, hungry.
His hands roamed over my body, mapping every curve, every inch of skin. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it free, running my hands over the hard planes of his chest.
“Drew,” I breathed against his lips.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered back. “I’ve always got you.”
He lifted me easily, carried me to the bed, and laid me down like I was something precious.
“Look at me, Cassandra,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with his own desire. His eyes were dark and intense as they locked with mine—a shade of storm I’d never seen before. The air between us was heavy, humming with something raw and electric, like the quiet before lightning splits the sky.
“Tell me what you see,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through me.
My throat was dry, my pulse wild. “You,” I whispered. “Only you, Drew.”
For a heartbeat, something fractured behind his eyes—a flicker of pain, of restraint on the verge of breaking. He took a slow step closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of him seep into my skin.
“Careful,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You say things like that, and I forget to be good.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be,” I said before I could stop myself.
That broke something open. His hand came up, fingers brushing the side of my neck, tracing the rapid flutter of my pulse. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Then show me.”
The distance between us disappeared. His mouth found mine, not with gentleness but with purpose—slow, deliberate. His hands cupped my face, then slid down, drawing me closer until I could feel every uneven breath, every tremor of control slipping away.
He broke the kiss first, pressing his forehead to mine. His breath was warm, ragged.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, though his hands were still on my waist, his thumbs moving in slow, unsteady circles.
I shook my head, my fingers catching the front of his shirt. “No.”
The lamp light flickered across his face, catching in his eyes—gold and shadow.
“I love you, Mrs. Kamarov,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.
“I love you too, so much.”
His hands were trembling as they went to the back of my dress, finding the delicate zipper. He pulled it down slowly, his eyes drinking me in as the heavy satin loosened. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he said quietly, his voice thick. “How hard it’s been to stay away.”
“Then don’t,” I whispered. “Not tonight.”
He tore off his suit jacket, ripping at the bow tie until it came free. He undid his dress shirt, buttons scattering, the sound sharp in the quiet room. My hands splayed across the hot, defined muscles of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.
His hands returned to my dress, pushing the heavy fabric off my shoulders. It slithered down my body, pooling at my feet, and I stepped out of it. He was on his knees by the bed now, his eyes on me, still in the lace lingerie I’d hidden beneath.
“You’re sure?” he asked, one last time, his voice raw.
“Yes.”
The word broke the last of his restraint. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down slowly, his gaze following the movement. He tossed them aside and just…looked at me.
“Drew…” I breathed, my hips lifting instinctively.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. He leaned in, his lips brushing my inner thigh. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. “I need…Cass, I need to prove you’re real.”
He kissed his way up my thigh, his breath hot, until his mouth was right at my center.
He didn’t just taste me; he worshipped me.
His tongue, slow and deliberate, traced my folds before finding my clit.
I cried out, my back bowing. It wasn’t the gentle lapping of before; this was a desperate, hungry worship, as if he’d been starving and I was the only thing that could save him.
“Drew, please,” I begged, my body tensing, my hips trying to meet his mouth.
“Let go,” he commanded against my skin, and I did, shattering under his tongue, my orgasm ripping through me with a scream I barely recognized.
Before the shudders even stopped, he was shedding his own jeans, his cock springing free, thick and ready. He moved over me, parting my thighs.
“I’ve never wanted anything this much,” he said softly, positioning himself at my entrance, his cock pressing against my still-wet, still-throbbing folds. “And that terrifies me.”
“Then let it,” I whispered, my hands finding his hips. “Let it terrify us both.”
He slid into me. It wasn’t a slow burn or a frantic rush. It was…a homecoming. A perfect, complete slide that filled me, stretched me, and made me feel whole. He stopped, burying himself to the hilt, and just stayed there, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us trembling.
“You feel that?” he whispered.
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded, tears stinging my eyes.
He began to move. Slow, deep, all-consuming thrusts that were more than just sex. Every push was a promise, every retreat a confession. The thunder rolled outside, matching the rhythm of our bodies. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
He groaned, his control snapping. “You’re so tight,” he panted, his thrusts becoming faster, harder. “You’re taking all of me, Cass.”
“I want all of you,” I sobbed, my voice breaking. I could feel the pressure building, a second climax, brighter and more intense than the first, coiling in my stomach. “Drew, I’m close, I….”
He stopped, pulling back just an inch, his whole body shaking with the effort. “Wait. Look at me.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his. They were clear, desperate, and filled with a terrifying, beautiful truth.
“I love you,” I whispered, my body on the very precipice.
A sound broke from his throat, half-sob, half-groan. He thrust into me, one final, devastating time, and I felt him touch my womb.
“I love you too, Cass,” he roared, his voice breaking as he came apart, his release flooding me at the exact same second my own orgasm ripped through me.
We collapsed together, a tangled, shuddering mess. He buried his face in my neck, his breath hot and ragged, and I held on to him like he was the only solid thing in a world that was falling apart.
And for that one perfect, storm-wrecked moment, I let myself believe it was enough.
That love could save us.
That maybe, just maybe, we’d survive what was coming.
But deep down, as the thunder faded and the rain quieted, I knew the truth.
The lies were catching up.
And when they did, not even love would be enough to save me.