Chapter 60 Chapter 60

Chapter 60 Chapter 60
CASSIAN'S POV

The whiskey was burning my throat.

I had lost count of how many glasses I had poured. Three. Four. Five. The bottle was half empty. The room was spinning. The walls were blurring. I was sitting on the floor of my apartment, my back against the couch, my phone in my hand.

I had been staring at his name for an hour.

Dominic.

The man I hated. The man I loved. The man who had destroyed me. The man who had gone back to Italy every year for seven years to sit on the balcony where I had broken his heart.

I did not know what to feel. I did not know what to think. I did not know anything.

I wanted to call him. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to crawl into his arms and never leave.

I was drunk. I was broken. I was pathetic.

I poured another glass.

My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen. Darius.

Darius: Where are you?

Cassian: Home.

Darius: I am coming over.

Cassian: Do not.

Darius: Too late. I am already in the car.

I set down the phone. Picked up the glass. Drank. The whiskey burned. I welcomed it.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened. Darius walked in. His face was concerned. His eyes were worried.

"Cassian," he said.

"Go away."

"No."

"Go away, Darius."

"I am not going anywhere." He walked over to me. Looked at the empty bottles. The half empty bottle. The glass in my hand. "How much have you had?"

"Enough."

"You are drunk."

"I know."

"Come on. Get up. We are going out."

"I do not want to go out."

"You need to get out of this apartment. You need to stop drinking alone. You need to stop thinking about him."

"I am not thinking about him."

"You are. You are always thinking about him."

I did not argue. I could not. He was right.

\---

The bar was loud. The music was pounding. The lights were flashing. Bodies were everywhere. Dancing. Drinking. Laughing. I sat at the bar with a glass of whiskey in my hand. Darius was next to me. He was nursing a beer. Watching me.

"You need to talk about it," he said.

"I do not want to talk about it."

"You have been ignoring him for a week. Then he showed up at your office. Then you went home and got drunk."

"How do you know all that?"

"Because I know you. And because he called me."

I turned to look at him. "He called you?"

"He called me. He is worried about you. He said you are not answering his calls. He said you are pushing him away again."

"I am not pushing him away."

"You are. You are doing exactly what you did seven years ago. You are running."

"I am not running."

"Yes, you are. You are sitting in your apartment, drinking alone, trying to forget him. That is running."

I stared at my glass. The amber liquid swirled. I did not know what to say. Because he was right. I was running. I had always been running.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"I want you to stop pretending. I want you to admit that you love him. I want you to stop punishing yourself for something that was not your fault."

"It was my fault."

"No, it was not."

"I left him. I broke up with him. I told him I hated him. I walked away and never looked back."

"Because he destroyed you. Because he married someone else. Because he lied to you. You did not leave him for no reason."

"I know. But I still left him. And he went back to Italy every year for seven years. To the balcony where I broke his heart."

Darius was quiet for a moment. Then he reached over and took my glass. Set it on the counter.

"Listen to me," he said. "You are not the only one who made mistakes. He made mistakes too. Big ones. He hurt you. He destroyed you. He married someone else. But he has also spent seven years punishing himself. He has spent seven years trying to make it right. And you have spent seven years running."

"I do not know what to do."

"Yes, you do. You know exactly what to do. You just do not want to do it."

"And what is that?"

"You need to stop running. You need to face him. You need to talk to him. You need to decide if you can forgive him."

I looked at him. His eyes were kind. His face was open. He was my best friend. He had been my best friend for years. He had never steered me wrong.

"I am scared," I said.

"I know."

"I do not know if I can forgive him."

"I know."

"I do not know if I can trust him."

"I know."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

He smiled. A small smile. "You are supposed to try."

\---

I drank more after that. The whiskey was warm in my stomach. The music was loud in my ears. The world was spinning. I was trying to forget him. I was trying to forget everything.

A man approached me. He was tall. Dark haired. Handsome in a generic way. He was wearing a suit. He smiled at me.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"I have a drink."

"Another one then."

I looked at my glass. It was empty. I did not remember finishing it.

"Fine," I said.

He ordered me another whiskey. Sat down next to me. His hand was on my back. His fingers were tracing circles on my shoulder.

"I am Mark," he said.

"Cassian."

"Nice to meet you, Cassian."

"Nice to meet you too."

He was close. Too close. I could smell his cologne. It was not the right cologne. It was not his cologne.

I closed my eyes. Tried to forget. Tried to pretend that this was what I wanted. Tried to pretend that I could move on.

His hand moved to my arm. Squeezed.

"You are tense," he said.

"I am fine."

"Let me help you relax."

He leaned in. His lips brushed my ear. I felt nothing. No spark. No fire. No heat. Just emptiness.

"Darius," I said.

"Yeah?"

"I need to go."

"Cassian."

"Now."

I stood up. My legs were unsteady. The room was spinning. Darius was next to me. His hand was on my arm.

"Let me get you home," he said.

"No. I need to see him."

"Now?"

"Now."

He looked at me. His eyes were concerned. Then he nodded.

"Come on," he said. "I will take you to him."

\---

The car ride was a blur. I did not remember getting in the car. I did not remember giving Darius the address. I just remembered the lights flashing past the window. The hum of the engine. The pounding of my heart.

We stopped in front of a building. His building. The penthouse. The one I had moved out of. The one I had walked away from.

"I will wait here," Darius said.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

I got out of the car. The air was cold. The building was tall. The lights were on in his apartment.

I walked inside. The elevator was slow. The hallway was long. His door was in front of me.

I knocked.

The door opened.

Dominic stood in the doorway. His hair was messy. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned. His eyes were tired. His face was pale.

"Cassian," he said.

"I am drunk," I said.

"I know."

"I want to forget you."

"I know."

"I cannot."

"I know."

He stepped aside. I walked in. The apartment was the same. The same furniture. The same walls. The same windows. The same view of the city.

I walked to the living room. Collapsed on the couch. My head was spinning. The room was spinning. Everything was spinning.

He walked over to me. Knelt in front of me. His hand touched my face.

"Look at me," he said.

I looked at him.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want to forget you."

"You cannot."

"I want to hate you."

"You cannot."

"I want to stop loving you."

"You cannot."

I stared at him. My eyes were wet. I was crying. I did not know when I had started crying.

"Why do you love me?" I asked.

"Because you are you."

"That is not an answer."

"It is the only answer I have."

He kissed me. His lips were soft. Gentle. I kissed him back. I did not have the strength to fight him.

"Take me to bed," I said.

"Cassian."

"Take me to bed, Dominic."

He picked me up. Carried me to the bedroom. Laid me down on the bed. His body was above me. His eyes were on me.

"You are drunk," he said.

"I do not care."

"You will regret this tomorrow."

"I already regret everything. What is one more thing?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed me. Deep. Thorough. His tongue pushed into my mouth. His hands were on my hips.

"I love you," he said.

"Shut up."

"I love you, Cassian."

"I said shut up."

"I will not shut up. I will never shut up. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you."

I pushed him onto his back. Straddled him. My hands were on his chest. My hips were grinding against his.

"You want to love me?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then let me have my way with you."

He smiled. That infuriating smile.

"Whatever you want," he said.

\---

I took control.

I was drunk. I was angry. I was desperate. I kissed him. Bit him. I left marks on his neck. His chest. His shoulders. I wanted to mark him. I wanted to claim him. I wanted to make him mine.

His hands were on my hips. Guiding me. Helping me. He let me take what I wanted. He let me use his body. He did not fight back. He just lay there and let me take whatever I wanted from him.

I reached for the lube. The one in the drawer. The one we had used before. I poured it on my fingers. Slick and cold. I pushed two fingers inside myself. Stretched myself open. Prepared myself for him.

He watched me. His eyes were dark. His lips were parted. His chest was heaving.

"You are so beautiful," he said.

"Shut up."

"Even when you are angry. Even when you are drunk. Even when you are trying to destroy me."

"I am not trying to destroy you. I am trying to feel something other than this."

"Other than what?"

"Other than loving you."

I positioned myself above him. His cock was hard. Thick. Ready. I lowered myself onto him. Slow. Inch by inch. The stretch was painful. Pleasurable. I took him deep. All the way. Until he was buried inside me.

We both groaned.

I started to move. Up and down. Slow at first. Then faster. Harder. I rode him like I was trying to punish him. Like I was trying to punish myself. His hands were on my hips. His fingers were digging into my skin.

"Fuck," he said.

"Yes."

"You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Shut up."

"I love you."

"Shut up."

"I love you, Cassian."

"Shut up."

He grabbed my hips. Held me still. He thrust up into me. Hard. Deep. I gasped. My hands fisted in the sheets.

"Let me," he said.

"No."

"Cassian."

"I said no."

I started moving again. Faster. Harder. I was in control. I was using his body. I was taking what I wanted.

"Spank me," I said.

"What?"

"You heard me. Spank me."

He hesitated. Then his hand came down on my ass. Not hard. Soft.

"Harder," I said.

He did it again. Harder this time. The sting was sharp. Pleasurable.

"Again."

He did it again. And again. And again. Each hit sent a jolt through my body. Each hit made me want more.

"More," I said.

"Cassian."

"More, Dominic."

He spanked me harder. I moaned. I hated that I moaned. I hated that I wanted more. But I did. I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted him to own me. I wanted him to take control.

"Turn around," he said.

"No."

"Turn around, Cassian."

"No."

He flipped me over. Onto my stomach. His body was above me. His chest was against my back. His cock was still inside me.

"You want to be in control?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then stay in control."

He pushed deeper. Harder. His hand fisted in my hair. His lips were on my ear.

"Ride me," he said.

"I am."

"Ride me like you mean it."

I moved. Up and down. Faster. Harder. He let me take control. He let me use his body. He let me take whatever I wanted from him.

When I came, I screamed his name.

He came moments later. Buried deep inside me. His body shuddered against mine. His arms wrapped around my waist. His face pressed into my neck.

"I love you," he said.

I did not answer. I could not. I was too tired. Too drunk. Too broken.

I collapsed on top of him. My face pressed into his chest. His heart was beating under my ear. Fast. Steady. Familiar.

I closed my eyes.

"I hate you," I muttered.

"I know."

I felt his arms tighten around me. Felt his lips press against my forehead.

"I hate you so much," I whispered.

"I know."

"Go to sleep," he said. "I will be here when you wake up."

I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted to tell him to stay. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I wanted to tell him that I hated him. I wanted to tell him everything and nothing all at once.

But I was too tired.

So I just lay there. On his chest. In his arms. And let myself drift off to sleep.

Tomorrow, I would hate him again. Tomorrow, I would push him away. Tomorrow, I would pretend that tonight never happened.

But tonight, I would let myself have this.

Tonight, I would let myself have him.