I bury my face in his neck to muffle the sounds I can’t hold back—soft gasps, broken whimpers. He smells like cedar and warmth and the faint trace of whatever cologne he wore this morning. Familiar now. Addictive.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my ear, barely audible. “You feel perfect. Every time.”
I clench around him in answer, thighs tightening, urging him deeper. He groans low, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine, and drives harder, faster, the pace turning frantic.
We both know we don’t have long.
My back arches against the door, nails scraping down his shoulders through his shirt. The angle is perfect. Deep, relentless, hitting that spot with every thrust. His fingers never stop on my clit.
I come first, sudden and sharp, biting down on his collar to stay silent. The orgasm rips through me, inner muscles pulsing hard around him in waves that leave me shaking.
He follows seconds later, one last deep thrust, hips pressed flush to mine, spilling hot inside me with a stifled groan against my neck. His body shudders, arms tightening around me like he doesn’t want to let go.
We stay like that for a handful of breaths—pinned to the door, joined, hearts racing, the faint creak of the house around us the only sound.
Then footsteps in the hallway.
I freeze.
Cassian pulls back, adjusts his clothes.
“Closet,” I whisper.
He moves into my walk-in closet. It’s massive—bigger than most people’s bedrooms—with built-in shelving and a sitting area. Plenty of space to hide.
I smooth down my dress and check my reflection. My hair’s a mess; I finger-comb it into something presentable.
A knock on my door. “Aurelia?”
Julian.
I take a breath and open the door. He’s still in his suit from the office. Tie loosened. Looking tired.
“Hey. I thought you were at work all day.”
“Finished early. Wanted to check in with you.” He glances past me into my room. “You okay? You look flushed.”
“Just got back from a run.”
It’s a terrible lie. I’m in a dress and heels. No running clothes anywhere in sight.
But Julian doesn’t call me on it. Just nods and leans against the doorframe. “Can I come in?”
My heart stops. “Of course.”
I step aside and he walks into my room. Past the rumpled bed I didn’t have time to fix. Past the closet where Cassian is hidden ten feet away.
Julian sits in the armchair by the window. Looks at me.
I stay standing. Can’t sit. Too much nervous energy.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately,” he says.
“Different how?”
“Less guarded. More present. You seem happier.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
