I press closer to him with a whine, my hands on his muscular chest.
He holds me to him, one hand spanning my back, and I feel so small, so delicate and so protected in his arms.
I let go of my fears, my perfume filling the air with vanilla, honey, and jasmine.
Cassian groans into our kiss, fisting a hand in my hair.
Saints, I need this alpha. I need his touch against my skin, his hands on my body. I grind my hips against his, finding him hot and hard beneath my softest places.
A needy mewl escapes me, and I drag his hand up to my breast, sighing in relief as he thumbs over my aching nipple.
He rolls my nipple between his fingers through the thin cotton of my sleep shirt, and my slick soaks my panties, scenting the air with my arousal.
“Fuck, Junes,” he growls, plunging his tongue into my mouth. He deepens the kiss, stroking his tongue against mine until I’m shaking and rocking against him.
“Let me touch you,” he begs, pressing kiss after kiss to my jaw, my throat.
“Yes,” I pant. “Please.” Saints, I’ve wanted Cassian for years, but never like I want him now. I need him with an intensity that makes my sweet scent spike.
There’s a hesitance—no, areverence—to his touch as he trails his fingertips down my stomach to my hips. He takes the hem of my shirt in his hand, and I lift my arms, letting him tug it off of me and toss it to the side.
His eyes darken as he takes me in, my breasts bared to him.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs, palming one of my breasts. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
I whimper, yearning for more of his touch.
He leans me back on his thighs so he can drop his mouth to my breast and draws my nipple between his lips. He lashes his tongue against the sensitive peak and the sensation sends a jolt straight to my core, my clit throbbing between my thighs.
“Simon said you were responsive,” he chuckles, mouth against my skin.
“You… you talk about me?” Fuck, why is the thought of them talking about me so fucking hot?
“All the time,” Cassian says, looking up at me with a wicked smile dancing in his dark, smoke-and-whiskey eyes. He massages my breast as he whispers in my ear. “He’d torment me, telling me about how sweet your slick was, how even the faintest touch would make you whine and writhe. Fuck, I’ve never come harder than I did when listening to him talk about you.”
“You want to share me.” My voice is breathless with need, but Cassian doesn’t deny me, his hand slipping down to the waistband of my sleep shorts. He arches a brow and I nod, aching for his touch where I’m neediest.
He groans as he cups me over my panties. “Oh, Junes. You have no fucking idea how many ways we’ve talked about taking you together. But tonight… Tonight you’remine.”
“Yours,” I promise, seeking his kiss.
He presses a searing kiss to my lips as he strokes me over my panties, groaning when he feels how damp they are. “Need to feel you.”
“Please,” I beg.
“Take them off.”
I scramble off his lap, nearly tripping as I yank my shorts and panties down my thighs. He steadies me with a smirk as I chuck them off, and then pulls me back onto his lap. I grind against him through his sweatpants, letting out a strangled cry when I feel his hard, thick bulge against my pussy. I rock against him, desperate for friction, until he sits me back on his thighs again.
He admires me for a moment, and when he cups my chin in his hand, it shakes from his restraint. He draws me in for a kiss, tongue moving against mine, and I whimper into his kiss.
His fingers trail over my folds.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, staring down at my glistening pussy. “So fucking perfect, Junes.”
He draws his finger along my pussy, from my empty cunt to my throbbing clit, rubbing a slow circle over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
I let out a wordless cry, circling my hips against his finger.
