Rain lashed the windows of Cassian's penthouse, streaking across the glass in glistening trails. Inside, it was all low light and tension. Riven sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in tight leather pants, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a bite mark from two nights ago—faint purple on pale skin.
Cassian entered with a single glass of bourbon in hand, his shirt half-tucked, hair damp from a recent shower. "You came back," he said, voice a low hum.
"I don't like losing," Riven replied. "Especially not to a spoiled rich sadist."
Cassian chuckled. "Yet here you are. Wet, defiant, and waiting for my hands."
Riven stood. Walked up close. "Don't think I'm yours yet."
Cassian slid a hand along Riven's jaw. "No. But you will be."
He backed Riven against the glass window, rain pattering hard behind them. "Let's find out just how much control you really have."
He kissed Riven deeply—biting, coaxing, pushing until Riven's lips parted. Their tongues tangled. Cassian's hand roamed under Riven's shirt, nails dragging lightly over his skin.
"Strip," he whispered against his throat.
Riven obeyed slowly, teasingly, never breaking eye contact. As each piece of clothing hit the floor, Cassian's eyes darkened.
Cassian turned him around, hands splayed over the window. "Keep them there."
Riven obeyed again, breath hitching.
Cassian stepped behind him, running his fingers down Riven's spine. "Still don't want to beg?"
"Fuck you," Riven gasped—but his cock twitched, betraying him.
Cassian smirked. "That's the plan."
He took his time—kissing, licking, dragging his teeth over every inch of Riven's back. His hands gripped Riven's hips as he knelt, spreading him open with no shame.
Cassian's tongue flicked over Riven's entrance. Slow. Deep. Devastating.
Riven cried out, his hands clenching against the glass.
"You taste like sin," Cassian murmured. "And you're dripping."
He tongued him relentlessly, fingers sliding in next—stretching, curling, hitting that spot that made Riven moan like he was breaking.
"You're going to come without touching yourself," Cassian said darkly. "All from my mouth. My fingers. My voice."
Riven shook. Sweat beaded on his skin. The pressure was unbearable.
Cassian stood, lubed up, and pressed against him. "Say it," he demanded.
Riven growled. "I don't beg—"
But then Cassian slid in with one sharp thrust.
Riven screamed.
It was brutal. Beautiful. Cassian's hips moved with measured precision, every thrust angled to devastate. Riven cursed, whimpered, moaned into the glass as Cassian took him hard and deep.
"You're mine when I'm inside you," Cassian growled, biting his shoulder. "Say it."
"F-Fuck—"
Cassian reached around, stroked his cock in rhythm.
Riven shattered.
He came hard, white-hot pleasure exploding through him, legs shaking, body trembling.
Cassian followed, groaning deep as he emptied inside.
Afterward, they collapsed together on the floor, sweaty and breathless.
Cassian whispered, "Three more days, Riven. And you'll never want to leave."
Riven didn't answer.
But for the first time… he wasn't sure if he wanted to.