The silence between them wasn't cold. It simmered.
Cassian sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, pants low on his hips, as if the night hadn't fully ended. The morning sun cut through the velvet curtains, drenching his skin in molten gold. Across the room, Riven leaned against the window, bare except for the bruises and bite marks Cassian had left all over him.
"Stop staring," Riven muttered, but his voice lacked any real venom.
Cassian's gaze was sharp, like a blade dragged slow. "Hard not to stare at something that's mine."
"Possessive much?"
Cassian rose. Walked to him.
Riven didn't move. His breath hitched.
Cassian's fingers brushed down his spine, slow, teasing. "You feel it too, don't you?"
"Feel what?" Riven challenged, even as his skin burned where Cassian touched.
"This heat," Cassian breathed into his neck. "It doesn't go away. Even when I'm not touching you."
Riven turned, chest rising. "That's not heat, Cassian. That's danger."
"Maybe. But I crave it."
Their lips collided—hot, rough, tongues dueling for dominance. Cassian shoved Riven back against the window, the glass cool against his flushed skin. His hand gripped Riven's jaw, tilting his head, exposing the column of his throat.
Cassian's mouth moved lower—neck, collarbone, chest—each kiss a mark, each lick a promise.
Riven's hands clawed at his back, nails leaving red trails.
Cassian hissed. "You're fire. And you're under my skin now."
He dropped to his knees.
Riven's cock was already hard, flushed and leaking. Cassian didn't hesitate. He took him deep, one hand gripping Riven's hip, the other wrapping around his thigh for control.
Riven's head fell back, a low moan spilling from his lips. "Fuck—Cassian—don't stop—"
Cassian didn't.
His mouth worked with sinful rhythm—sucking, swirling, devouring until Riven was a trembling, gasping mess, moaning his name like a prayer and a curse.
Riven came with a shudder, his hands in Cassian's hair, eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure crashed through him.
But Cassian wasn't done.
He rose, grabbed Riven's chin, and kissed him hard, letting him taste himself.
"On the bed," he growled.
Riven obeyed.
Cassian followed, flipped him over, and spread him open. "I want to see how deep I can burn you."
He didn't wait.
He entered him in one smooth, hard thrust. Riven cried out, clutching the sheets, his body arching.
Cassian moved with brutal control—every stroke hitting that spot that made Riven see stars, made him scream, made him feel.
They moved together like fire and fuel—violent, perfect, and inevitable.
When Riven came again, it was with a broken sound, his body spasming, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.
Cassian followed with a grunt, burying himself deep, collapsing against Riven's back.
Breathless. Marked. Claimed.
When the world stilled, Riven turned his head, whispering, "What are we doing, Cassian?"
Cassian pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Setting everything on fire."