If he wouldn’t climb into the bath, then she’d have to go to him.
Nesta waded toward the steps of the sunken tub, and Cassian went rigid.
He whispered, “I thought you were dead today.”
Nesta reached the stairs. “So did I.” She stepped upward, exposing her midriff. “I thought you were dead, too.”
“You must have been happy.”
She smiled, watching his gaze drop with every piece of her revealed. Another step upward had her sex bared to him. “It did not make me happy.” She reached the floor of the room.
Through what Nesta knew was five hundred years of will, Cassian lifted his focus to her face as she walked to him, water dripping off her body. “You want to do this?” he breathed.
“Yes.” She stopped a foot away, her wet hair draped along her torso, and stared up into his face. His eyes burned like hazel stars. Nesta gave him a smile that was pure Fae. “Just sex.”
The words seemed to spark something, because Cassian blinked. “Right. Just sex.” He didn’t say it as lightly as she did. And still didn’t reach for her.
So she said, “There can be nothing more than sex, Cassian.”
His jaw tightened, and he seemed to struggle with some internal battle before he said darkly, “Then I’ll take whatever you offer me.” He leaned in, his body still not touching hers, and said against her ear, “And I’ll take you however you wish me to.”
Her toes curled on the stones, her hair dripping. “And if I wish to take you?”
He smiled against her ear. “Then I’ll beg you to ride me into oblivion.”
She went molten, and from the way his wings tucked in, she knew he could scent the wetness building between her thighs.
Cassian gently pulled her wet hair from her breasts. Her breathing came in sharp pants as he traced the tip of a finger around her nipple. Then did it again.
Words eluded her. She couldn’t remember any of them, couldn’t remember anything except that one finger, circling her nipple, her entire body throbbing with need.
Cassian flicked her nipple, a hard, sharp bite that made her whimper.
Desperate for more of him, for all of him, Nesta said, “Do what you want.”
He circled her nipple again, a predator playing with its dinner. “That doesn’t sound very exciting, do what you want.” He clamped her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the demand in it enough that she looked up at his face. He was the portrait of male arrogance, a warrior poised to conquer, and she nearly climaxed at the sight of it. His eyes darkened. “The way you sometimes look at me makes me think such filthy things, Nesta.”
“Do them. Do all of them.”
He pinched her nipple just short of drawing pain, and she arched into the touch, a silent plea for more, for him to unleash himself. “We don’t have time in one night for all the things I want to do to you, with you. Every place I want to touch and fill you.”
She rubbed her thighs together, desperate for any friction. “Then do your best.”
Cassian laughed darkly, but his other hand came up to her untouched breast, circling as well. She watched his light brown fingers play against her pale skin, watched him touch her like he wanted to map every inch of her body and had all the time in the world to do it. Below his waist, she could just make out his hardness.
“Do you want to suck me again?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you want me down your throat again?”
Nesta let out a confirming whimper.
“Did you still taste me days later?”
She couldn’t answer, couldn’t reveal the truth.
His fingers clamped on her nipples, drawing just enough pain that she went wholly wet. “Did you?”
“Yes. I tasted you for days.” The words tumbled out, and with them, clarity and hunger sharpened her focus. Ripped her from that needy daze. “I’ve thought about your cock in my mouth every night since, while I had my hand between my legs.”
He growled, and she skimmed a hand against his hardness, squeezing. She lifted her head and met his darkened stare, baring her teeth. “I thought about your head between my legs, too,” she said, heart thundering, “and how your tongue slid into me.” She squeezed him again.
Cassian groaned, and his thumbs caressed her too-sensitive nipples.
Nesta put her other hand on his chest, backing him toward the bed, and he went willingly, letting her set the pace, the location. “I promised that you could fuck me wherever you wanted in the House,” she said, her voice a deep, rolling purr that she barely recognized. The backs of his thighs hit the bed, and he halted her, one hand dropping to her waist to steady them. “But this isn’t the House.” His breathing rasped around them as she smiled up at his drawn, taut features. “So I think that means we’ll fuck wherever I want.”
Cassian grinned, and the hand at her waist swept down to cup her bare ass. He squeezed one cheek. “As long as I still get to fuck you in the House.”
She met his savage grin. “Good.”
His hand drifted further south, between her legs, feeling her from behind. His fingers brushed against the wetness pooled there, and he swore, drawing his hand back, holding it between them. Her wetness gleamed on his two fingers, and his eyes glittered with predatory intent as he lifted them to his mouth and licked them, one by one.
Her body ached, clamping around emptiness, desperate for something to fill it. For him to fill it. She stroked her fingers down the length of his cock, still trapped within his pants. And as she made a second pass, he slanted his mouth over hers.
It was a grazing, taunting kiss.
She bit his lower lip. And then he was grabbing her to him, crushing their bodies together, both hands now gripping her ass as he pressed her against his length. Their open mouths clashed and met, and she tasted herself on his tongue, her fingers grappling in his silken hair, dragging against his scalp.
Cassian twisted, flipping them, and then she was lying flat against the mattress as he stood before her.
He tore his mouth away as he propped her legs on the bed, folding them at the knees. As he tugged her to the mattress’s edge, so that her sex was on display for him.
He knelt, wings rising above him, and dragged his tongue clean up her center.
Nesta moaned at the same moment he did, and he let her writhe, as if he knew it’d torment her more to undulate, but to have nothing to fill her, not until he wished it. He gave her another savoring lick, lingering at the apex of her thighs, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth, nipping with his teeth, before he began again.
Again. Again.
He was devouring her, melting her body like a piece of chocolate on his tongue.
She couldn’t endure it, and she clasped her own breast, desperate for more touch, more sensation. He looked up from between her legs and marked her hand kneading her breast. Marked it and smiled, his teeth flashing white against the flushed gleam of her. “Do you like seeing me kneel before you?” he asked, the words rumbling into her very core. He dipped his tongue into her. “You taste like you do.”
Nesta arched, thrusting herself further onto his tongue, but Cassian only laughed against her and denied her what she wished. He gave her another slow, slow lick from base to top, and as he reached that bundle of nerves, he slid two fingers into her.
Two, not one, because he seemed to know she was already waiting for him, that she wanted him unbound and rough and wild. She bowed off the bed, and he thrust his fingers in again, his breathing uneven as he said, “How do you want it?”
He pumped his hand into her again, wringing out her reply. “Hard,” she gasped.
“Thank the Mother,” he swore, and she heard metal clicking and leather whispering, and then his tongue caressed her again, past that bundle of nerves, up her stomach, to her breasts, until he was over her.
Cassian moved her further onto the bed. She didn’t care that her legs fell open for him, only cared that he was now naked, and all that rippling muscle and golden skin gle
amed above her.
He lowered himself to the cradle of her thighs, and his eyes were so wide she could see the whites around them. He opened his mouth, but she didn’t want to hear the words, didn’t want to know whatever he’d been about to say. She framed his face in her hands and kissed him savagely, her tongue scraping over his teeth as she ground their mouths together.
The broad tip of his cock nudged at her entrance, slipping in the slickness there, and he reached down to guide himself in.
At Cassian’s first prod into her body, fire erupted within her. She panted into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip as he eased himself in. Just an inch.
He halted. He was large enough that the stretching was edged in sweetest pain—large enough that she wondered if she’d be able to fit all of him. He trembled, holding himself barely inside her, as if he were now wondering the same.
His hesitation, his care, melted some ice-cold shard within her. And made her snap free of any restraint.
Nesta gripped his ass, muscles flexing beneath her fingertips, and hauled him into her.
Only another inch. Only another inch, because Cassian braced his arms against the bed, hips pulling against her hold. “I’ll hurt you.”
“I don’t care.” She ran her tongue over his jaw.
“I do,” he ground out, body straining as she attempted to pull him into her. “Nesta.”
Her fingers dug in again, her very blood and bones crying out for more of him, but he refused to move.
“Nesta. Look at me.”
Fighting the roaring of her body, she obeyed. Heat blazed in his eyes, and something more than that. “Look at me,” Cassian breathed.
Gods spare her, but she did. She couldn’t take her gaze off him. Found herself free-falling into his darkened eyes, his beautiful face.
His hips flexed, and he slid in another inch—then retreated nearly to her edge.
Their breathing synced, and Nesta stilled beneath him, a feeling of utter calm, utter fullness spreading through her as his hips moved again, and he pushed back in, a little farther this time.
Cassian held her gaze through each small thrust, each retreat. He stretched her, filling her inch by inch, and Nesta knew he’d been right to go slow for this first joining.
Retreating and advancing, Cassian filled her. They said nothing, only shared breath, their eyes wide as they gazed at each other.
He pulled outward again, the movement long enough this time that she knew he was nearly all the way in. He halted, his cock barely inside her, and studied her face. A conquering warrior-god. He had called her Lady Death, and he was her sword.
Cassian leaned down to kiss her. And as his tongue slid into her mouth, he thrust home in a mighty, final push.
Nesta moaned as he slammed to the hilt, and the full impact of him hit her, stretched her, and she couldn’t breathe fast enough. Cassian withdrew again, and slammed back into her, propelling their bodies farther onto the bed.
He groaned this time, and the sound was her undoing. She wrapped her legs around his back, careful of his wings, and lifted her hips to meet his. He sank even deeper, and she dug her nails into his shoulders.
Gods—nothing had ever felt so good, so full, so burning with pleasure. Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing.
Cassian set the pace, smooth and deep, and for a moment, it was all Nesta could do to match him stroke for stroke. For a moment, she looked between their bodies to where his cock plunged into her, so thick and long and gleaming with her that she tightened around him, her release already building.
He felt her inner muscles squeeze him harder and growled, “Fuck, Nesta.”
And she liked seeing him undone enough that she did it again, clenching on him just as he seated himself fully. He arched into it, fingers digging into the bed. “Fuck,” he repeated.
It wasn’t enough, though. Wasn’t close to enough. She wanted Cassian roaring, wanted him so lost that he couldn’t remember his own name.
Nesta halted him with a hand on his chest. Just one hand, and he stopped, utterly at her command. If she wanted it to end here, it would.
It softened her enough that she couldn’t quite keep the tremor out of her voice as she said, “I want you deeper.”
Cassian panted, eyes wild, as she crawled out of his arms. As she turned onto her stomach and lifted her backside for him, offering herself.
He made a low sound of need. She arched her hips higher, inviting him to take, to feast.
His restraint shattered. He was on her in an instant, lifting her hips higher as he sheathed himself in a single thrust. Nesta screamed then, a sound of such pleasure she knew it echoed off the mountains, feeling him hit the deepest spot of her.
Cassian pounded into her, a hand moving from her hip to her hair, tugging her head back, baring her throat. She gave herself over to it, to him, and the lack of control was heady, so pleasurable that she could barely stand it. He thrust harder, so deep with this angle that she might have been screaming again, might have been sobbing.
His other hand drifted between her legs, his cock pounding into her, her hair gripped like reins in one hand, her pleasure in his other. She was utterly at his mercy, and he knew it—he was snarling with desire, slamming home so hard his balls slapped against her.
The silken touch had her erupting.
Her climax crashed upon her, out of her, her inner muscles clenching him tight.
Cassian roared, the sound echoing through the room, and he became utterly wild as release found him and he spilled into her with such force that his seed ran down her thighs.
And then his weight fell upon her back, and only an arm that he threw out to brace them kept them from collapsing.
Reeling, Nesta could only breathe, breathe, breathe.
Cassian lay buried in her, and it felt so good, so right, that she wanted him always this deep in her, his seed spilling down her legs, forever.
“Oh, gods,” he whispered against her spine, over the tattoo inked along it. “That was …”
“I know,” she panted. “I know.”
It was as much as she’d confess. As much as she’d let herself admit.
Too good. It had felt too good, and nothing and no one would ever compare to it.
He said, voice shaking, “I’ve made a mess of you.”
She buried her face in the blanket. “I like it.”
Cassian went still, but he gently extracted himself from her in a long, long pull. He dragged his seed with him, and another rush of it tickled down her thighs, dripping on the blanket, as he pulled out fully. She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.
She felt him kneeling behind her, staring at the ass she still held upward, the view it presented.
“I shouldn’t enjoy seeing that so much,” he growled.
Her breasts tightened. But she asked coyly, “Seeing what?”
“You. Covered in me. That beautiful sex of yours.”
She blushed and lowered her body to the mattress. “No one has ever called it beautiful.”
“It is. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”
She smiled into the blanket. “Liar.”
“I’m beyond lies right now, Nesta.”
His voice was so rough she looked over a shoulder. Cassian still knelt, and his face … It was utterly devastated, as if she’d taken him apart and left him in ruin. “What is it?” she asked, but he moved off the bed and reached for his fallen clothes.
Nesta twisted, her legs and core drenched in his essence and hers, but he donned his pants, gathering up his shirt and jacket, and the weapons she hadn’t realized he’d carried. When he lifted his head, he threw her a wicked smile. “Just sex, right?”
It was a trap, somehow. She couldn’t discern in what way, but the words were dangerous. She’d meant them, though. Or had wanted to, at least. So Nesta said, “Right.”
His eyes flickered, and he grinned again, aiming for the door. “Thanks for the ride, Nes.” He winked, and was gon
e.
She stared at the door, puzzling over his exit, so swift that his seed still leaked out of her.
Was it punishment? Had he not enjoyed it? She had the proof of his enjoyment between her legs, but males could find their pleasure and still not deem it good.
Was he trying to demonstrate what she’d done to all those males? Bedded them and then kicked them out?
She’d said just sex, but had thought it might at least come with some … cuddling. A few minutes to enjoy the feel of his body against hers before pride made her order him to leave.
Nesta knelt in the bed, and stared at the door, the silence her only answer.
CHAPTER
38
“You took him to your bed, didn’t you?”
Emerie’s whispered question had Nesta whipping her head toward her, stomach muscles quivering as she held the upward positioning of her curl. Emerie, a mirror image to her left, simply smirked at the shock on Nesta’s face. Gwyn, on Emerie’s other side, was just wide-eyed.
Nesta schooled her features into neutrality and uncurled to the ground, making sure to hold her abdominal muscles tight until her back was flat against the stone once more. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you and Cassian have been exchanging sultry looks all morning.”
Nesta scowled at Emerie. “We have not.”
It was an effort not to look across the ring, to where Cassian was now walking the newest group of priestesses—two this time, Ilana and Lorelei—through foot positioning and balance. Nesta had, in fact, caught him staring her way twice since the lesson had begun two hours ago, but she’d made a point not to engage in lingering eye contact.
“You have,” Gwyn whispered, low enough that Cassian’s Fae hearing wouldn’t pick up her words. Nesta rolled her eyes.
“Well, if you won’t talk about that,” Emerie said with equal quiet, “then at least tell us what happened yesterday—why there was no lesson, and where you were in the afternoon.”
“I was asked to keep it secret,” Nesta said. Her wounds had healed and vanished already, making it easy to do so.
A Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses) Page 36