Page 117 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“Gorgeous girl,” he praises. “I love it when you’re like this for me. I love being reminded that you really are all mine.” Without hesitating, Cass leans forward again, and I yelp at the long, thorough laps of his tongue against me before he focuses his attention on my clit.

This time I can’t help my fingers sinking into his hair. My free hand digs into my thigh, and my breath comes in quick pants while he sucks and laps at my clit loudly enough to sound incredibly lewd in the small space.

“Are you going to come on my tongue?” he teases, when I can’t keep myself quiet anymore. “Fuck, pretty girl, that’s really all I want. I want to taste you on my tongue while you come for me. Can you do that?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” I huff, voice breathy.

“Maybe I won’t ask at all.” He grabs the shower head and shoves it between my thighs, the pressure stronger than I expect as the water sprays against me. I cry out, my fingers tightening, and unconsciously I urge his face back toward me, prompting him to let out a pleased laugh.

“Don’t worry, Winnie. I know what I’m doing.” He alternates between his tongue and the water, and sometimes his fingers, pushing me further and further out of my mind with every second that ticks by.

I groan, now really unable to keep still. “Oh, fuck! Cass, I think you’re killing me. I’m dying. I’m seriously⁠—”

“A needy little brat.” Once more the shower head clatters against the tile and he drags my hips off of the bench entirely, so his arms are the only thing holding me up with my thighs hooked over his shoulders. He shoves three fingers into me and mercilessly licks my clit, fucking me open so effortlessly and so thoroughly that I have no chance.

I come with his name on my lips and my voice echoing around the bathroom. His tongue joins his fingers and he licks my pussy through my orgasm, drawing it out for as long as possible until I’m a panting, writhing mess who probably can’t even hold herself upright.

Not that Cassian needs me to.

Before I can register what’s happening, he’s the one on the bench and he has me straddling his thighs. Both of us are soaked from the shower, and I’m panting as he drags me down.

“Cass—” I begin, but he doesn’t need my input. He easily lines himself up, and when he tugs me down again, it’s so I can sink down onto his cock. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop maneuvering me until I’m fully seated on his lap and feeling a little stupid from how perfectly he’s filling me up. Then he moves, rolling his hips upward once to get a feel for it.

After that, all I can do is bury my face in his shoulder and try not to be so loud while he fucks me. It’s a losing battle, though. Especially with the way he’s nipping and biting at any part of my neck or shoulder that he can reach and his hands are gripping me like he never intends to let go.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect for me, aren’t you Winnie?” His voice is strained, breaths coming fast, just like mine.

“Y-you should prove it then,” I tell him, reaching up to twine my arms around his neck and drag his face down to mine. With my eyes wide, I can barely make out the glint of his in the darkness, and a particularly sharp roll of his hips makes me whine.

“How?”

“Come for me this time,” I murmur. “Please, Cass? Just like this?”

“Just like this,” he agrees without hesitation, and I can feel the intent, the new fervor in his movements as he fucks me. He doesn’t last long, and I don’t expect him to. With a snarled curse and a nip to my throat, he comes, dragging me down and holding me as tightly against him as he can while I pant and watch his face to see the myriad of emotions there.

God, he really is perfect.

When he finally shifts, it's only to relax his hold on me, though he doesn’t let me move. Instead, he opens his eyes and leans forward, lips finding mine easily. “Perfect,” he purrs again, reaching out and grabbing the shower head. He lifts it, letting the water trail over my hair and shoulders, causing me to squirm on his lap.

“You only say that when you don’t think I’m a brat,” I point out, my arms still over his shoulders. “So I’m not sure I believe you mean it.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, and grabs the shampoo and conditioner from the shelf above us, still not letting me go anywhere. “Then the next time I have you over my lap and I’m spanking your pretty ass until you cry, I’ll remind you then how perfect you are with tears running down your face too. Now tilt your head so I can wash your hair, princess.”

24

My phone going off isn’t exactly how I want to wake up. With my nose smooshed against Cass’s shoulder, I take a deep breath of his scent; the lingering aroma of his cologne is a welcome warmth in my nose. In that moment, I decide to ignore my phone, figuring there’s only a few seconds left of it going off, anyway.

Thankfully, I’m right. My phone goes silent and I let out a breath against Cass’s skin, relieved it didn’t wake him up.

Until it starts going off again.

The moment Cass’s breathing changes, I sit up just enough to snatch my phone off the nightstand, glaring down at it. I should’ve guessed before now that it would be Reagan, because my mother doesn’t love me, and Lou has the manners to just leave a damn message if I don’t pick up at seven forty-two am.

But not Reagan, who may have learned her social graces from emotionally stunted baboons.

Just before it goes to voicemail again, I slide my thumb across the screen and flop back down onto the bed beside Cass with a sighed, “Hello?” My tone makes it clear I’m not particularly amused or thrilled about her call, and I’m not surprised when she greets me with apologies.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, Winnie.” To her credit, Reagan really does sound regretful and guilty. “I know it’s early as hell. But I have a babysitting job booked for tonight, and I have to cancel on them. I have strep and the girl I’m supposed to babysit gets sick so easily.” She rambles for a couple minutes, while I just gaze up at the ceiling and listen to the cats run around in the hallway like they’re on meth.