Riven wasn't sure what woke him first—the weight of Cassian's gaze, or the ghost of velvet still burning against his wrists. He stirred beneath the silk sheets, muscles aching deliciously, skin humming with the aftermath of indulgence.
Cassian stood by the window, shirtless, sculpted in dawn's light like a Roman god fallen into sin. One hand held a glass of whiskey, the other casually tucked in his trouser pocket. His silver-blond hair was still tousled from their night—wild, untamed, and so fucking beautiful.
"You're awake," Cassian said, voice low and rough, like gravel dipped in honey.
Riven sat up slowly, the sheets slipping from his bare torso. "Barely."
Cassian turned toward him, his gaze devouring. "You were exquisite last night."
Riven smirked, his voice raspy. "You're not so bad yourself, sir."
Cassian crossed the room with predatory ease. "Careful. That mouth of yours earned you trouble last night. You sure you're ready for more?"
Instead of answering, Riven swung his legs off the bed and stood—naked, unashamed, proud. He walked up to Cassian until their chests nearly touched. "I want more."
Cassian didn't hesitate. He grabbed Riven's throat—not to choke, but to hold him still, firm, and in control. Their eyes locked, the space between them charged and trembling.
"You crave the cage now, don't you?" Cassian whispered, thumb stroking Riven's jaw.
"I crave you," Riven breathed. "The fire. The pain. The release."
Cassian kissed him hard, biting Riven's lower lip until it bled. Then he spun him around, shoving him against the glass window overlooking Caldris City.
"Let them watch," he growled in his ear.
Leather cuffs clicked into place. Riven moaned.
Cassian didn't waste time. His hands were fire on Riven's skin—stroking, slapping, claiming. He left marks: red blooms on pale flesh, a map of every place he ruled.
"Say it," he demanded, pushing into Riven with no preamble, every thrust sharp and unrelenting.
"I'm yours," Riven cried out, body arching, mouth open in raw pleasure.
Cassian leaned in, biting his shoulder. "Louder."
"I'm yours, Cassian. Always."
The room echoed with skin, moans, gasps—until Riven shattered, stars behind his eyes, body wrung dry.
Cassian followed, holding Riven's hips so tight he'd bruise for days. He came with a guttural groan, collapsing against Riven's back, their bodies locked together, panting and flushed.
Minutes passed. Neither moved.
Finally, Cassian kissed the side of Riven's neck, slow and reverent. "You're not just a conquest, Riven. You're a fucking addiction."
Riven let out a shaky breath, smiling against the glass. "Then you'd better keep me locked up, Cassian. Because I'm not running anymore."
Cassian undid the cuffs, turning Riven around to face him. Their foreheads pressed together, the morning light catching on sweat-slicked skin and the smallest hint of a smile.
No words were needed.
The fire between them had turned into something deeper. A dangerous devotion. A need neither of them fully understood—but both were ready to burn for.