Chapter 213
Elowen's POV
Cassian's breath was hot against my most sensitive skin, and when he finally spoke, his voice was reverent. Worshipful. The kind of tone that made my heart skip and my pussy clench with anticipation.
"It's such a pretty pussy, babe."
The words alone were enough to make me whimper around Casper's cock, and I felt rather than heard Cassian's satisfied chuckle vibrate against my inner thighs. He was enjoying this—the power he had over me, the way my body responded to his every word, every breath.
He didn't touch me immediately. Instead, he teased—of course he did, the bastard. His lips hovered just above my inner lips, barely grazing the sensitive flesh, not quite making contact. So close I could feel the heat radiating from his mouth, could sense the promise of what was coming, but not close enough to satisfy the desperate ache building between my legs.
It was torture. Sweet, aching torture that had me squirming beneath him, my hips lifting unconsciously, seeking more contact that he refused to give.
"Patience, sweetheart," his voice echoed through the bond, dark and amused. "I'm going to take my time with you."
And fuck, he meant it.
Then he moved his hands, sliding them under my thighs with deliberate slowness, his calloused palms rough against my smooth skin. He lifted me slightly, adjusting my position, opening me wider to his gaze. His mouth. Making me feel exposed and vulnerable and so fucking turned on I could barely think straight.
But he still didn't touch me. Not yet.
Instead, he blew a soft breath across my clit, and I jolted against Casper's cock, the sudden movement making him groan deep in his chest. The vibration traveled through his body into mine, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations flooding my system.
Cassian's breath moved lower, trailing along the length of my slit with agonizing deliberation, and I could feel him inhaling deeply—scenting me, tasting my arousal on the air. Savoring it like fine wine.
Vanilla and honey. That's what they always said I smelled like. Sweet and warm and utterly addictive.
"Fuck, El," Cassian groaned against my skin, his voice rough with barely contained need. "You smell so fucking good. So ready for me."
Then his breath moved back up, teasing my clit again with that feather-light touch of air. Back and forth. Up and down. Over and over until I wanted to scream, to beg, to demand that he stop fucking around and just touch me already.
But Casper's cock was still in my mouth, still sliding deeper with each shallow thrust, and all I could do was moan and squirm and silently plead through the bond for mercy I knew Cassian wouldn't give.
Not until he was good and ready.
"Aww yeah, that's my girl," Casper praised above me, his voice strained with effort. "Taking me so well, cutie. Such a perfect fucking mouth."
Finally—finally—Cassian's tongue made contact, one long, slow lick from my entrance to my clit, and my back arched off the bed like I'd been electrocuted, pressing closer to his mouth, desperate for more of that exquisite friction.
Casper, sensing my reaction through the bond, pulled back slightly, giving me a moment to gasp for air around his cock. His hand came to my face, thumb brushing tenderly across my cheek in stark contrast to the filthy things we were doing.
"You like that, cutie?" His voice was strained, his amber eyes blazing with heat as he looked down at me. His control was hanging by a thread, I could feel it through the bond—that razor's edge between restraint and complete abandon.
"I... It's..." I tried to answer, my voice hoarse and wrecked, but before I could finish the sentence, Casper's cock was back in my mouth, sliding deep, hitting the back of my throat and cutting off any coherent thought.
And I was back to that position. That vulnerable, exposed, completely-at-their-mercy position with Cassian between my legs and Casper in my mouth.
Fuck me, I loved it.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable degree. I could taste Casper's unique flavor—salt and musk and something indefinably him. Could feel the weight of his cock on my tongue, the way he pulsed with each beat of his heart.
And Cassian—God, Cassian's tongue was relentless, licking and sucking and devouring me like I was the finest meal he'd ever tasted. He was everywhere at once, his mouth working my clit with devastating precision while his fingers dug into my thighs, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
And Casper—God, Casper—was moving now, shallow thrusts that pushed deeper with each stroke, his breathing harsh and ragged above me. His abs flexed with each movement, muscles rippling beneath that perfect golden skin.
Through the bond, I felt everything. Cassian's desperate hunger, his need to taste every inch of me, to memorize the way I felt beneath his tongue, the sounds I made when he did something particularly wicked.
Casper's fierce possession, his determination to imprint himself on my very soul, to make sure I never forgot who I belonged to.
And underneath it all, woven through the lust and need and overwhelming pleasure, that thread of guilt. Of grief. Of something that tasted like goodbye and made my chest tighten with an emotion I couldn't quite name.
"Ask them," Juno begged, her voice almost pleading in my mind. "Please, El. Ask them what's wrong. Something's not right."
But I couldn't. Not now. Not when Cassian's tongue was circling my clit with devastating precision, not when Casper was groaning my name like a prayer, not when I was balanced on the knife's edge between pleasure and pain and something that felt almost like flying.
Not when asking might shatter this perfect moment into a thousand irreparable pieces.
So instead, I surrendered. To them. To this. To whatever came next.