Page 49 of Intrigue

I won’t let him in. Not tonight.

I grab a hold of the island on either side and lean back, spreading my legs wide in front of me, an invitation, a dare. I’m wearing shorts, sure, but that’s the only flimsy barrier between us. I’m not wearing any panties, my pussy bare. Since we weren’t going far, I decided to skip them.

Which isn’t my usual style.

It hits me now, a gut punch, that even while getting ready to step out, I didn’t think about Cassian. I wore this shirt and shorts, skipped the panties, because I was holding out hope for Sandro, that bastard who’s wormed into my blood.

Damn, how did it get so bad? Cassian is soft and safe and loves me, a warm cradle I’m supposed want, but Sandro is wild and carefree and dangerous, a complete opposite I shouldn’t crave but do, so badly it’s tearing me apart.

I want him.

I want him so badly it hurts, like a sick, throbbing wound.

I drag my focus back to the man in front of me and try my hand at a smile, brittle, fake. “Fuck me, Cassian. Make me forget about everything.”

What I mean is I want him to fuck Sandro out of me, to purge that gnawing need, to bury it under Cassian’s steady hands even when I’m this close to the safety I’ve been aching for since the start.

Cassian slides his hands to my breasts, cups one in his palm. It doesn’t quite fit, spilling over, and it’s beautiful when I glance down. Seeing my flesh spilling against his grip. He squeezes softly, like he’s scared to break me, but when I look up, his face is wrecked—a man unhinged by want. He’s drowning in this as much as he’s giving, but the need to pleasure me, to own me, wins out, a twisted bet he’s hellbent on cashing.

He presses a thumb around my nipple, circling, teasing, and I groan, loud, shameless. Then, without a word, he bends down and collects my hardened nipple in his mouth, hot and wet, sucking hard.

“Mmmm…that’s it…” My voice is a rasp, trembling.

He licks and twirls, working his tongue into the bud, all suction and sweetness, a filthy devotion that has me panting, arching my back into him, shoving my tits deeper into his face.

“Oh, yeah…Cassian…so…good…” I’m babbling, lost, my body a live wire.

He makes a deep sound in his throat, and shifts his attention from one wet nipple to the other, attacking it with the same relentless hunger until I’m blinded with a burning need.

I’m wet. Hell, I think I’m dripping in my shorts, soaking through, a mess for him—or someone else.

Cassian straightens and looks at me. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Selene…do you know that?”

“Yes…yes…I know…” I’m breathless, pleading.

He works the button on my shorts with his eyes still locked on mine, fingers steady, predatory, and when it snaps open, I lift myself up, eager, so he can peel them down. He brings the damp fabric to his nose and inhales deeply, a low growl rumbling out.

“I think I’m going to burst in my pants just from this,” he says, more to the small line of wetness he finds in the middle of my shorts. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

“Cassian—” My voice cracks, needy, warning.

“Spread your legs wider for me, Selene. I’m starving for a taste of you, gonna eat you alive…”

Oh God. Shit. Holy hell…

But I spread my legs for him wanting to forget Sandro. When Cassian kneels down in front of me, like he’s about to worship at my altar, I imagine it’s Sandro—his scarred hands, his cruel mouth—kneeling there, ready to devour me, to tease and punish, to make me hate him and crave him until I’m nothing but a dripping, broken thing.

It’s the worst, I know, but in the face of such wrecking emotion, I become a woman—a filthy, feral woman.

“Beautiful,” Cassian murmurs against the insides of my thighs, his breath hot, vibrating down to my pussy where the wetness has gathered. I spread my legs wider, offering myself up. “I love the way you smell. Let me make you feel good, baby, let me tongue-fuck you ‘til you’re screaming.”

“Please…” It’s a whimper, a surrender. But it’s not for him.

He swipes his tongue between the lips of my sex, slowly before using his finger to part me open, exposing me. He looks up at me as his tongue teases the opening, sucking and dipping and taking me whole, a starving man feasting.

“Mmmmm…fuck…just like that…oh, yeah.” I’m loud, unhinged, filling the kitchen with my moans.

He groans as he sucks me, making these sweet, wild sounds, like I’m the one ruining him, like my cunt’s the drug he can’t quit.