Cassian didn't just take what he wanted—he curated it, sculpted it like one of the priceless pieces in his gallery.
And tonight, Riven was his latest obsession.
Draped in nothing but a velvet collar and chain, Riven stood in the center of the penthouse's glass-walled room. Moonlight cast him in silver. His pulse quickened when he heard Cassian's footsteps behind him.
"You're beautiful like this," Cassian murmured. "A masterpiece. Mine."
He tugged the chain, guiding Riven toward a chaise. Forced him onto his knees.
Cassian unbuckled his belt slowly, deliberately. "You know what I want."
Riven obeyed—mouth opening, tongue tracing the line of Cassian's cock. He took him in deep, letting Cassian use his mouth, fingers threading through his hair, setting the rhythm.
Cassian was merciless.
When Riven's eyes watered, Cassian growled low. "Good boy."
He came in Riven's mouth, but didn't stop there.
Lifting him in his arms, he carried Riven to the bed and pinned him down.
"Your body begs to be owned," he whispered. "And I'll mark every inch."
Oil slicked Riven's skin as Cassian massaged it in—sensuous, slow. Then teeth followed. Nips, bites, each more possessive than the last. Down Riven's spine, over his ass, inner thighs.
When Cassian entered him this time, it was with maddening control—shallow thrusts, grinding in deep, then withdrawing until Riven sobbed for more.
"Please," Riven moaned. "I need—"
"I know what you need."
Cassian flipped him onto his back, hooked his legs over his shoulders, and slammed into him with ruthless precision.
The sound of wet, hard thrusts filled the room.
Riven climaxed twice—once untouched, the second with Cassian's hand fisting him as he came again.
When Cassian finally reached his peak, it was with a snarl—burying himself to the hilt, marking Riven from the inside.
Afterward, he curled around Riven possessively, wrapping the chain around his wrist like a leash.
"You're not leaving me," Cassian whispered into Riven's hair.
Riven didn't answer.
Because deep down, he knew he didn't want to.