Page 117 of Bitten & Burned
“Good,” I whispered, clutching at him. “Because I don’t want you to.”
His hands skated down my sides, reverent and steady. “I want to make you feel good,” he said, his voice rough at the edges now. “Not because you’re hurting. Not to distract you. Just because… gods, Rowena. Please let me.”
I nodded, breath catching.
He kissed my throat, down to the hollow between my breasts, moving with the quiet focus of a man who had fought wars and rebuilt temples just to worship in them again.
Cassian didn’t worship loudly; he worshipped like it was a big secret.
Gods, I wanted in on it.
Cassian kissed down my body like he already knew the terrain—like he’d mapped every inch long ago and was reacquainting himself with an old obsession.
He took his time. Not lazy.
Deliberate.
His hands slid beneath my thighs, lifting them, spreading me open with care. And then he looked up at me—his gaze hot and fiery, mouth hovering just above where I ached for him.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he said softly. “I want to watch you feel it.”
The command struck something deep, and I obeyed without hesitation. His gaze locked on mine as his mouth found me, tongue slow and precise, licking a long stripe from the base of my entrance to my clit. I gasped, hips bucking, but his grip tightened—just slightly.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You’ll take what I give.”
Gods, the control in his voice. Not cruel. Not cold. But confident.
He licked again. Flicked his tongue in tight circles. Then sucked—just enough to make my legs tremble.
“I don’t want you quiet,” he said against my skin, breath hot. “I won’t stop you if you beg.”
I whimpered. That wasn’t begging. Not yet.
But he didn’t relent. He kept his rhythm steady, torturously slow, until I was panting, writhing, desperate. And still he watched me, like the sight of my unraveling was what he needed most.
I reached for his hair, needing something to hold onto, and he let me—until I tugged. Then his hand came down firm on my thigh—not painful, but sharp. The sound echoed in the room along with my gasp.
“None of that,” he said, lifting his head. His mouth glistened with me. “You want more, you ask.”
I stared at him, lips parted, chest heaving.
“Cassian…”
“Try again.”
I swallowed. My cheeks burned.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered first, the wrong words spilling out. His raised brow told me he’d wait. And then—I gave him the right one.“Please.”
His mouth curved in a dark smile. The bond thrummed hot and bright at the word, echoing my surrender back to me through him.
“Good girl.”
Then he devoured me.
No more teasing. No more restraint. Just hunger, unleashed.
His tongue plunged into me as two fingers slid in slowly, curling upward, finding that devastating place that made my entire body jolt. He sucked my clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, building pressure so fast it felt like drowning.
