Chapter 5 Five

Aminae

He didn't kiss me like a man claiming something.

He kissed me like he was trying to unmake me.

His mouth was hot and hungry, teeth dragging my lower lip, breath rough with bourbon and something darker. The kind of kiss that didn't ask-it took. Like he'd waited long enough.

I melted into it before I could think. One hand on his chest, the other gripping his jacket, holding on like I was drowning and he was the only thing above water.

Cassian growled low against my mouth.

"You don't want this," he whispered.

"Yes, I do."

"No, Aminae. You want to feel something. That's not the same."

I pressed my forehead to his. "Maybe I want both."

His hands slid down my waist, gripping hard, his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress. He pulled back just far enough to look me in the eyes.

"This isn't happening against a fucking wall," he said. "Not like this. Not your first time."

He grabbed my hand.

And I let him.

He led me through a private back entrance, up a metal staircase to a second floor with velvet walls and dim red lighting. Everything smelled like sex and money and silence bought in cash.

He pushed open a black door without knocking.

Inside-

A massive bed. Black sheets. Spotless. Cold.

He let go of my hand.

Turned to face me.

"This is your last chance."

My pulse pounded.

I walked past him.

Sat on the bed.

My voice was low. Barely there.

"I'm not asking you to be gentle."

He didn't kiss me like he was afraid of hurting me.

He kissed me like he wanted to hurt something inside me-and I let him.

Cassian's mouth devoured mine, all teeth and heat and control. One hand gripped the back of my neck, the other already sliding under the band of my bra, dragging it down with no grace-just need.

When my back hit the mattress, the air knocked out of my lungs and the heat rushed in to replace it. His weight pressed into me, solid, grounding, terrifying.

"You're so fucking soft," he muttered, voice low, reverent and wrecked. "So goddamn breakable."

I whimpered as his mouth moved lower-neck, collarbone, the curve of my breasts. He sucked a nipple between his lips and bit down, just enough to make me gasp, then soothe it with his tongue. The contrast made my back arch, my thighs twitch.

His hands dragged down my hips, gripping hard.

"Open your legs."

I did.

No hesitation. No shame.

He stared at the thin black lace between my thighs.

"Fucking hell."

His fingers slid over it, pressing lightly, teasing the wetness that was already soaking through.

"You're so wet already," he growled. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes," I whispered, voice shaking. "Yes-please-"

He shoved the panties to the side and dropped to his knees beside the bed, dragging me to the edge by the thighs.

Then he buried his face between my legs.

"Cassian-!" I cried out, hips jerking.

His tongue was fucking filthy. He licked me slow at first-broad strokes from bottom to top, groaning like he was tasting sin. Then faster, deeper, sucking my clit until I was clawing the sheets.

"Shit-fuck-please don't stop-"

"Not stopping," he growled. "You taste too good."

Two fingers slid into me-stretching, curling, ruining. My legs shook. My vision blurred. I came with a sob, loud and full, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth.

He didn't stop. Not even when I begged.

"I can't-Cassian-fuck-too much-"

"Yes you can."

His mouth didn't leave me until I was trembling, thighs clamped around his head, fingers tangled in his hair like I was drowning in him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked wild. Lips wet. Eyes black.

"I haven't even fucked you yet," he growled. "And I already know-no one will ever fuck you like I will."

I tried to catch my breath. Failed.

Then he stood, dragging his shirt off over his head-exposing a chest that was cut from fury and sin. Tattoos. Scars. Veins. He unbuckled his belt with one hand, pants falling low, boxers tight over a cock that looked like it was going to wreck me.

He pulled the condom from his pocket.

"I should take this slow," he said.

"But you won't," I whispered.

He looked down at me. Eyes burning.

"No."

He slid the condom on with one hand, the other gripping my thigh, pushing me back up onto the bed.

Then he climbed over me. Pressed the head of his cock to my entrance. Still.

His voice was lower than I'd ever heard it.

"This is your last chance to stop me."

I looked him dead in the eye.

"Do it."

He pushed in.

And I shattered.

I cried out-more from the stretch than the pain. It hurt. It burned. But underneath that pain was something else. Something hot. Consuming.

Cassian stilled.

"Fuck," he cursed. "You're so tight-so fucking tight-holy shit-"

His hands gripped the sheets on either side of my head.

"You okay?"

I nodded, gasping. "Keep going. Please."

He started to move-slow at first, rolling his hips deeper with each thrust. Then faster. Rougher. Our skin slapped. My moans were getting louder. Filthy. Raw. Uncontrolled.

"You like that?" he growled. "You like your first time being with the wrong fucking brother?"

"Yes-fuck-yes-"

His hand came up and gripped my jaw, tilting my head so I couldn't look away.

"Say my name."

"Cassian-"

"Say it like you mean it."

"Cassian-!"

He slammed into me harder, burying himself to the hilt, making the bed shake under us.

"I should feel guilty," he said, voice broken. "But all I want to do is fuck you until you forget anyone else exists."

I whimpered under him, legs wrapped around his waist, nails raking down his back.

He hit something inside me that made me scream.

"That's it," he growled. "Come on, baby-give it to me-fuck, you're perfect-so fucking good-mine-mine-mine-"

And I broke.

My orgasm tore through me like a storm-violent, soaking, endless. I didn't even know what sounds I made. I just knew I was crying his name, and he was fucking me like he wanted to erase everything that came before him.

He cursed again. Loud. Raw.

Then pulled out-ripped the condom off-jerked himself twice, and came all over my stomach with a groan that sounded like it came from hell.

He didn't look at me. Just said-

"You can't marry him now."

And I didn't answer.

Because we both knew...

I would.

Cassian said nothing after.

He stood, silent, jaw clenched, and disappeared into the bathroom. I lay there-naked, raw, heart pounding in my ears-staring at the ceiling like it might rewind time for me.

It didn't.

I heard water run. A door click. Then quiet.

When I looked up again, he was gone.

No goodbye. No words. Just the weight of him still between my legs.

I sat up, skin sticky, chest sore. My thighs ached.

I cleaned myself in the bathroom quickly-mechanically-like scrubbing away the evidence could also erase the memory. It didn't.

I curled into the sheets and closed my eyes.

Sleep came fast.

Heavy. Dreamless.

Thirty minutes later, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

I jerked upright, disoriented. Hair tangled. Body still aching.

5 Missed Calls – Yasmin

2 Texts – YAS

> where tf are you

girl if you're dead i swear i'll bring you back and kill you myself

Shit.

I jumped out of bed, redressed in the clothes from before, hastily smoothing down my dress and patting away the smudged makeup under my eyes. The hallway outside was empty. The club downstairs sounded quieter now, like the night was ending without me.

I rushed down the back stairs and found Yasmin pacing near the side exit, phone in hand, eyes wild.

When she saw me, she ran over.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"I'm sorry-"

"I was this close to calling the police. I thought you got kidnapped. Or passed out. Or-" she stopped, narrowed her eyes. "Wait. You look... different."

"I'm fine."

She crossed her arms. "Don't lie to me. I know that glow. You-Aminae. You didn't."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"Holy shit," she whispered, eyes wide. "You did."

"Can we just... go?"

She blinked at me, then exhaled and grabbed my hand. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

The car ride home was barely silent cause Yasmin kept looking at through the side of her eye.

Yasmin drove. I stared out the window, chest tight, my body still haunted by everything I wasn't ready to admit.

Halfway there, my phone buzzed.

1 New Message – Dad

> The wedding is no longer next weekend.

Come home. We're moving it up.

I stared at the screen.

My hands went cold.

The wedding was coming.

And I'd just given everything to his brother.