We stay like that, breathing hard but silent, her weight fully on me, my arms banded around her back. Eventually the car slows further, and pulls into the garage under my building. Reality creeps back in.
She lifts her head, eyes dark and unreadable. Slides off my lap carefully, wincing slightly at the loss. Straightens her skirt with steady hands, tucks hair behind her ear.
I tuck myself away, fasten my trousers, adjust my shirt. “Let’s go inside and finish what we started.”
Her reply is a sly smirk.
30
AURELIA
It keeps happening.
After visits sometimes, when the boys are with Nadia and I make excuses about errands I need to run. His apartment has become familiar. The view from his bedroom windows. The way his sheets smell. How his hands feel on my skin.
We don’t talk about it. Just fall into bed and deal with reality later.
Three weeks of this and I’m starting to forget why I thought it was a bad idea.
My phone buzzes during lunch on a Thursday.
Just two words from Cassian:Come over.
I stare at the message. The boys are at their music lesson with Nadia. Julian’s at the office. I have two hours before anyone expects me anywhere.
I text back:Can’t. Too risky.
Then I’ll come there.
My pulse kicks up.Absolutely not.
Why not? No one’s home.
Julian could come back early.
Then we’ll be quick.
I delete the message thread and set my phone down.
Ten minutes later the doorbell rings. I open the door and Cassian’s standing there like he has every right to be.
“You’re insane,” I say.
“Probably.”
I pull him inside before any of the security personnel stationed outside see him standing on the front step in the middle of the day.
We make it as far as my room. He locks the door behind us and I’m already pulling his shirt over his head. We crash together against my bedroom door, his hands under my dress, mine working his belt. Fast and desperate because we both know this is stupid and we’re doing it anyway. His mouth crashes into mine, hard and claiming, hands sliding straight under the hem of my dress to grip my thighs and lift.
My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, heels digging into the small of his back. He presses me harder against the door, pinning me there with his hips while one hand yanks my panties to the side. I feel him free himself, zipper down, just enough, and then the blunt heat of him nudging, teasing for only a second before he thrusts in deep.
The stretch steals my breath. He fills me completely, no slow build, no easing in. Just one long stroke that seats him to the hilt and makes my head thump back against the wood.
“Quiet,” he whispers against my throat, voice rough and urgent. “We have to be quiet.”
I nod, biting my lip as he starts moving, short, sharp thrusts that keep me pinned, the door rattling softly in its frame with every snap of his hips. My dress is bunched around my waist, his shirt still on, trousers barely lowered. Nothing fully removed. Just enough skin, just enough access.
His hand slips between us, fingers finding my clit with practiced accuracy, rubbing tight, fast circles that match his rhythm. Pleasure coils vicious and quick, low in my belly.
