The Devil's Favourite Obsession

*Disclaimer - Erotica*

”Do you always behave like this with other women?” Cixi whispered. ”Taking them to sit on your lap... in front of everyone?”

Cassian’s thumb traced lazy circles against her hip bone through the fabric of her dress, which was undoing Cixi.

”No.” His voice dropped low, the single syllable vibrating against her shoulder where his chin rested. ”It is only you I want to do this with.”

Cixi heard them twice from him. Once through her ears, and once through the reckless, traitorous part of her brain that replayed them in slow motion, dissecting the weight behind each syllable.

Only you. Only her.

He did special things only for her.

Her heart slammed against her chest. Heat crawled up her neck and settled in her cheeks once more. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trapping the breath that threatened to betray her.

Cassian frowned at Cixi’s small action. His gaze dropped to her mouth, to the teeth pressing white crescents into the soft flesh of her bottom lip.

His thumb moved. It left her hip, trailed upward along her arm, grazed her jaw, and pressed firmly against her lower lip, freeing it from her teeth.

And Cixi stopped breathing.

The pad of his thumb rested against her mouth, warm, rough, and intimate. The pressure was barely there, but she felt it in every nerve ending from her lips to the base of her spine.

Her lips quivered beneath his touch. They wanted his mouth. She wanted his mouth. The realisation crashed through her with the subtlety of a freight train, and she hated herself for it, hated the wetness building behind her eyes, hated the ache settling low in her belly, hated that every logical thought she possessed was dissolving under the weight of his thumb against her bottom lip.

His thumb traced downward. Over the curve of her chin. Along the underside of her jaw. He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face towards him.

And he kissed her.

Lemonade. He tasted of lemonade again, sweet and tart.

Cixi’s brain short-circuited. The cigarette taste flooded her senses, even though she didn’t like the smell of cigarettes, but on Cassian, somehow, it felt intoxicating.

Cixi did not hold back.

She kissed Cassian as if there was no tomorrow. Her fingers found his collar, twisted the expensive fabric, and yanked him closer. Her mouth opened against his as if she had been starving.

Their tongues met, explored, and fought for dominance. She tasted smoke and the metallic edge of danger that lived permanently on his breath.

The car drove on. The back seat, which should have been witnessing every reckless second of their kiss, remained empty. The driver stared straight ahead.

Cixi was so consumed by the kiss that she did not register that she was on the bed in the bedroom at the Crown Palace, where she slept at night.

Her chest heaved against his. Her lungs burned. Her lips were swollen, bruised from the force of their kiss, and her blood roared so loudly in her ears that the opulent silence of the bedroom sounded like static.

Without breaking the kiss, Cassian’s hands found the silk scarf wrapped around her hair. He unwound it, letting it slip through his fingers and fall to the bed like shed skin.

Then he turned her, her back facing him.

His large hands gripped her waist and rotated her body until her back pressed flush against his chest. His fingers found the zipper at the top of her spine and dragged it downward. Her exposed skin was kissed by the cool air of the bedroom.

He pulled the pins from her bun. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in waves, and Cassian buried his face in it, inhaling deeply, the groan in his chest vibrating against her back.

He turned her again. Facing him.

His gaze raked over her slowly. Hungrily. The loosened dress hung from one shoulder, the unzipped back gaping open, barely clinging to her frame.

His pitch-black eyes traced the exposed line of her collarbone, the shadow between her breasts.

He claimed her lips once more, pushing her against the bed.

This time, his hands found hers and laced between hers, palm against palm, and he held her hands at her sides as his mouth devoured hers.

His teeth caught her bottom lip. He bit—not gently. The sting from the bite made her gasp against his mouth. Then he soothed the bite, his tongue sweeping over the abused flesh, sucking softly until a moan ripped from Cixi’s throat.

Her legs parted instinctively. Her body shifted, making room for him without conscious thought.

Cassian’s fingers untangled from hers. His right hand slid up to her shoulder, where the loose fabric of her dress clung stubbornly to her frame. He pushed it down. The material slipped from her shoulder, pooling at her elbow.

He lifted her upper body, one arm snaking behind her back, pulling her upright against him as his other hand pushed the dress past her waist, over the curve of her hips, down her trembling thighs. He laid her back against the sheets. He gripped the hem at her ankles and pulled. The dress slid free, and he tossed it to the floor without looking.

Cixi’s chest heaved. Desire burned in her light grey eyes, naked and unashamed. She lay before him in nothing but a black lace bra and matching underwear, her golden hair fanned across the white pillows, her skin flushed from her cheeks to her chest.

Cassian’s gaze lingered. From the swell of her breasts, down the flat plane of her stomach, to the black fabric sitting low on her hips. A guttural growl tore from his throat. It sounded raw and animalistic.

As he leaned down, his nose pressed against the nape of her neck, and he inhaled her scent. He parted his lips to suck harder. Then bit down on the tender flesh where her neck met her shoulder.

Cixi moaned louder involuntarily. The sound bounced off the high ceiling’s mirror.

His mouth moved. A trail of open-mouthed kisses blazed down her neck, meant to provoke a reaction from her.

Her body reacted to every single one. Her back arched. Her fingers clawed at the sheets. Goosebumps erupted across her skin in violent waves.

Cassian had barely started, and she already felt the wetness pooling between her thighs. The ache was unbearable, throbbing and insistent, demanding something she had never experienced but suddenly craved with every fibre of her existence.

His mouth travelled lower. His hands slid behind her back, fingers finding the clasp of her bra with irritating expertise. One flick, and the tension released. He peeled the lace from her body and discarded it over the side of the bed.

His gaze lingered on her bare breasts. On the pebbled, hard peaks that strained towards him, begging for contact. His throat bobbed. He swallowed hard, and the naked hunger in his expression made Cixi’s stomach clench and grow wetter.

Her nipples ached for his touch. The cool air and the heat of his gaze combined into an exquisite torture that made her squirm against the sheets.

She bit her lower lip. Then she did something she did not expect.

She sat up.

She rose onto her knees on the mattress, levelling their heights slightly, and Cassian’s eyes traced a slow, burning path. From her bare nipples to the hollow of her throat. From her throat to her swollen lips. From her lips to her light grey eyes.

He waited completely still, with restraint. He waited to see what she would do.

Cixi’s hesitant hand rose. It was trembling. Her fingers brushed the lapel of his suit jacket, and the contact sent a visible shiver down Cassian’s arm. She gripped the fabric and slowly pushed the jacket off his broad shoulders.

Cassian let her.

His arms dropped to his sides, allowing the expensive fabric to slide down and fall.

She looked at him. Her bare chest heaved, her nipples brushing the air between them, aching, desperate, screaming for the warmth of his skin against hers.

As if reading her body like scripture, Cassian moved. His right arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, the rough fabric of his shirt scraping deliciously against her bare breasts.

His left hand rose to her chest. His thumb found her nipple and traced a slow circle around the hardened peak.

Her head fell back. A broken, shuddering moan escaped her parted lips.

His thumb circled again. Tighter this time. Pressing the sensitive flesh, never quite touching the centre, teasing her until her hips bucked involuntarily against him.

”Cassian...” His name left her mouth without permission. It was breathless and wrecked.

He pressed his lips against her exposed throat. Against the hammering pulse there. She felt him smile against her skin.

Then Cassian pushed her, and her body fell backwards onto the mattress. The white sheets billowed around her, and her golden hair scattered across the pillows.

She barely had time to gasp before he was on her.

Cassian unbuttoned his shirt as he climbed onto the bed, shrugging it off his shoulders in one fluid motion. The fabric landed somewhere on the floor.

Cixi’s breath caught at the sight of him. The broad, sculpted expanse of his chest. The hard ridges of his abdomen. The thin scar that ran diagonally across his left ribcage, white against his golden skin. His body felt as if it were forged, and not born.

He settled his weight over her, one knee pressed between her parted thighs, his forearms braced on either side of her head. The heat of his bare torso reached her naked breasts, and the near-contact made her nipples ache so sharply she whimpered.