Riven woke tangled in silk sheets and scent. Cassian's scent—dark, dominant, addictive. But the bed beside him was empty.
He slid out from the cocoon of warmth, naked and still sore from the night before. His body bore proof: bruises like kisses, teeth marks over his ribs, and the burn between his thighs.
He found Cassian in the rooftop garden.
Roses. Hundreds of them. Red, black, deep violet. A gothic riot of petals and thorns.
Cassian stood shirtless, only in black silk pants, hands behind his back, staring out over the city skyline.
"You keep disappearing," Riven said.
Cassian didn't look at him. "I was giving you time to recover."
"From the sex?"
Cassian turned, eyes like polished obsidian. "From me."
He walked toward Riven slowly, predator-smooth. "You think you've tamed the monster, Riven. But I bite harder when cornered."
Riven didn't flinch. "So do I."
Cassian closed the space between them, pulled a rose from a bush. He pricked his own finger on the stem, then dragged it across Riven's chest. A thin line of blood bloomed. Riven hissed.
"Do you trust me?"
"No."
"Good."
Cassian pushed Riven back onto a padded bench. Climbed over him. Bent to lick the blood.
His mouth was hot, tongue sinfully slow. Then he kissed him—hard, brutal, punishing.
He stripped Riven bare again, laid him out under moonlight and thorned shadows.
Cassian went down on him—expert, thorough, relentless. One hand holding Riven's thigh open, the other trailing down to tease his entrance. Lube was poured, fingers stretched him wide, slow torture.
"Louder," Cassian said.
Riven moaned his name, hips bucking.
Cassian positioned himself. "This might sting."
He thrust in—hard.
Riven's back arched off the bench. The pleasure rode lightning-hot beneath the pain. Cassian didn't stop. Each thrust angled deeper, slamming against the spot that made Riven sob.
They fucked under roses and stars.
When Riven came, Cassian didn't let up. He kept going, used Riven's oversensitive body until he was wrung dry.
After, Cassian cradled him.
"You think this is a game," Riven said breathlessly.
Cassian smiled darkly. "No. I think this is the beginning."
He kissed Riven's chest—right over the thorn-cut wound.
A bloodred mark of ownership.
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