My clit throbbed, aching for him, even as a part of me wanted to push him away, to fight the pull of him.
But my body was on fire, craving him with a desperation that left me trembling. I couldn’t wait for him to claim me, to fill the void only he could.
He found the edge of the bed with one hand, steadying himself before crawling toward me—confident, but careful, like a man navigating both darkness and memory.
He entered me in one hard, claiming thrust, like he was punishing me, needing me, mourning me—all at once.
A sharp sting of pain cut through the pleasure—after a year, my body wasn’t ready, but the stretch, the fullness, was intoxicating.
I moaned his name, breathless, my gaze locked on his.
His eyes—blurred, unfocused, touched by shadows, could barely see me now, but God, they still found me. Still felt me. Like they remembered every contour of who I used to be.
He smirked faintly, like he sensed my stare even without fully catching it.
“Yeah, look at me, baby,” he growled, his hand sliding under my jaw, tilting my face to keep my gaze on him.
He thrust deep, hard, each movement a declaration of ownership, filling me completely.
“Cassian!” I screamed, my voice raw, the pleasure overwhelming as he moved, relentless, his hips slamming into mine.
Sweat beaded on my skin, the air cool against the heat of our bodies.
My clit pulsed, my body trembling as he drove me higher, his hand gripping my jaw, his eyes never leaving mine. “Mine,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble, and I nodded, lost in him, in the way he claimed me.
He pulled out suddenly, leaving me panting, throbbing, my body aching for more.
“Turn, little dove,” he ordered, his voice thick with desire.
I rolled onto my stomach, my skin flushed, and he entered me from behind, his body pressing against mine, hot and solid.
His lips found my back, kissing a trail from my shoulder blades to the curve of my spine, each touch igniting sparks.
His hand came down on my ass, a sharp spank that made me gasp, the sting blending with pleasure.
Unlike the past, when his touch had been cold, mechanical, this was different—every kiss, every thrust, burned with love, a fire that consumed us both.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips as he moved deeper and harder.
My legs trembled, my body coiled tight, teetering on the edge of release I couldn’t hold back.
He pulled me up suddenly, his lips crashing into mine, the kiss bruising, tasting of blood and need.
“Charlotte, my name only,” he demanded, his voice a low snarl. “You hear me?”
“I hear you,” I moaned, my lips swollen, the metallic tang of blood mingling with his taste.
He lifted me off the bed, his strength effortless, carrying me in his arms.
He positioned me carefully, my pussy aligning with his cock, and I slid down onto him slowly, the stretch overwhelming, my legs shaking so badly I doubted I’d walk for days.
He stood firm, his hands cupping my ass, guiding me as I moved, my head buried in his neck, teeth grazing his skin as he slammed into me.
“Cassian... damn,” I gasped, my voice trembling, my waist rolling against him, the pleasure so intense it felt like madness. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Hell yeah,” he growled, his thrusts quickening, harder, faster, his hands gripping my ass as he fucked me with a ferocity that left me breathless.
My teeth sank into his neck, biting hard as the pleasure built, a storm ready to break.