Page 116 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“Don’t worry your pretty little face, Winnie. I’m not about to take a shower with clothes on, so I’ll strip for you. Promise.” Making good on his word, he steps back and tugs off his shirt, eyes dancing as he chucks it my way. I catch the shirt, holding it in my hands as he walks to the shower to pull open the glass door and turn the knobs like he lives here. To my knowledge, he’s definitely never used our shower before, but I suppose if you’ve seen one shower knob, you’ve seen them all.

By the time the bathroom starts steaming up, it occurs to me I could help out by getting out of my clothes as well. I hop to the floor, setting his v-neck on the counter before tugging off my hoodie and bra.

Absently my hand goes to the light switch and I flick it down, plunging us into the relative dimness of the bathroom now that it’s lit only by the nightlight next to the mirror. “Oh,” I say as I turn, feeling guilty, and hold my hoodie against my chest as I look for Cass. “Shoot, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. I’m sort of a shower in the dark weirdo, but if you like⁠—”

“I think I can fuck you just fine like this,” he cuts me off smoothly, making my stomach twist and leap with excitement and anticipation.

“Well, if you’re sure—” I dodge the shoe he chucks my way, cackling as I kick off my own and shove my leggings down my thighs. I’m done before him, and it means that he’s just undoing his belt by the time I sidle up to him, my fingers on the button of his jeans.

“Let me?” I murmur, gazing up at his face. “Pretty please?” He relents, dropping his hands to watch me as I take over for him. In seconds his jeans are pooling on the floor, and he kicks them away so I can run my fingers down his body, over his scars and his sharp, angular hip bones.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” I murmur, hooking my fingers in the elastic of his black boxer briefs. “Seriously, if no one has ever told you that⁠—”

He hooks my chin on two fingers, dragging my face up so I’m meeting his eyes. “I don’t care what anyone else has ever told me, Winnie,” Cass reminds me. “I only care what you think.”

His words make me feel so strange, but it’s not a bad kind of strange. It just seems like it’s too much; like he has to be saying things he thinks I’ll enjoy without actually meaning them.

Because he can’t feel that strongly about me when we haven’t really seen each other for years.

Right?

Wordlessly, I finish what I’m doing, and I tilt my head down to look at him while wrapping my fingers around his impressive length. Cass lets out a low sigh, content to watch as I stroke my hand along his shaft.

“You never stood a chance, you know,” he says suddenly, and I look up at him in confusion. “Of avoiding me. Looking like you do, and with your mouth?” A grin curls over his lips and in one swift, fluid motion he has me off my feet, urging me to wrap my legs around his hips before he strides into the walk-in shower.

“Cass!” I protest with a nervous laugh, the water soaking my back and hair as he finally lets my feet drop to the floor. “I can walk, you know. I’m not broken.”

“No, but you are mine. I can carry you if I want,” he retorts. Instead of letting me reply, he drags me against him, his fingers burying themselves in my hair so he can yank my head back and find my mouth with his. “You always taste so good,” he purrs, not breaking away.

I whine into the kiss when he nips my lip, standing on my tiptoes in an attempt to do the same. But Cass is too quick for me and jerks back, a grin on his face and his eyes dancing with mischief. “Too slow, sweetheart,” he teases. His hands find my hips and he pushes me backward until my knees hit the bench stretching along the far wall of the shower.

“What are you—” My question dies on my lips as Cass grabs the handheld shower head, unhooks it from the wall and drops to his knees lightly on the tile floor. He flashes a smirk my way, and with one hand drags me forward on the bench until my shoulders hit the wall and my ass is on the very edge.

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he goads, letting the warm water run up and over my thighs. “You can figure it out. Tell me if this is too hot or cold, all right princess?” From the floor, he moves the shower head up my legs, over my stomach and further up, his hand following to smooth along my now-soaking wet skin.

But his motives turn a little less innocent when he leans over me, the water trailing over my breasts and down to my hips. His free hand follows that path too, fingers teasing my nipples and cupping my breasts as he takes his damn time.

“Cass…” I hate the way I sound whiny, and in the darkness I can’t quite see his expression, though I can hear his chuckle.

“Impatient little brat. Unless you’re going to wrestle this away from me and force me to be the one on my back…you’ll take what I give you.” His dark, promising tone makes me shudder, and his fingers curl around my throat for a moment, flexing, before he lets go.

Once more he kneels between my thighs, and I gasp when the water trickles down the sensitive skin between my legs. He’s careful, not quite letting the water go where I’m the most anxious for it, and he trails his fingers over my slit teasingly.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Cass murmurs, barely audible over my heartbeat and the rush of water in the shower. “Do you know how it makes me feel to know it’s all for me now?”

“Oh, I see we’re making assumptions,” I can’t help but taunt. “I don’t know, Cass. Maybe there’s some other murderer out there with a pretty face and—” He spreads my folds with his fingers and angles the shower head just right, cutting off my words and sending all thoughts of goading him right out of my head.

“You were saying?” he asks, pinning me in place with his arm over my hip. “Come on, Winnie. You can’t be out of words just yet.” But I am, because I’ve clearly led the sheltered life of someone who’s never used an adjustable shower head for its intended purpose.

“Fuck!” I reply, emphasizing the word. I can’t help but writhe on the bench, and I reach out, only for him to lift his free hand to push my hand away.

“You don’t need to touch me yet, pretty girl. Why don’t you play with yourself for me, hmm? Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not around.” It takes a few seconds for his words to process through my brain, and he takes pity on me by lifting his hand and pressing mine against my upper body. Finally, that helps me get the message, and he goes right back to spreading me open for him and focuses the rush of water against my clit once I reach up to trace my fingers over my nipples.

“Like you mean it.” He chuckles, prompting me to make a face at him. But I do what he says, my touch becoming more insistent, and he rewards me with his thumb swiping over my clit. “Good girl.” Leaning in, he moves the shower head away enough that he can lick up my slit, drawing a startled yelp from me as I arch off the wall.

“You like my mouth on your pussy, don’t you?” It’s clearly a rhetorical question, and I stare at him in the darkness, watching him move as he licks me again. Soon his tongue has me writhing and panting; the addition of the water has me urging him onward with small movements of my hips.

Cassian doesn’t disappoint. His tongue licks against me, and when he thrusts it into me to taste as much of me as he can, it’s quickly joined by his fingers. The shower head ends up lying on the bench near my thigh, but I barely notice as he yanks my thighs wider with a growl.