Riven was still sore when night fell again, but he didn't say a word. He wore the ache like a badge—one only Cassian Velthorne had the right to leave.
The penthouse had quieted. The city below burned with lights, but the bedroom was darker, hungrier.
Riven stood by the window, shirtless in loose black pants, the outline of fresh bruises and fading bite marks painting his back like artwork. Cassian approached from behind, silent. The tension between them crackled like a storm.
"You never run," Cassian said.
Riven didn't turn. "Maybe I'm just waiting for you to break me."
Cassian's hand slid around his waist, pulling him against a hard chest. His lips grazed the edge of Riven's ear. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Riven's breath caught. "Try me."
Cassian didn't hesitate.
He bit him.
Right at the junction of his neck and shoulder—deep, possessive, until Riven gasped and arched. His fingers dug into the windowsill, the sting curling into heat.
Cassian spun him around, kissing him hard, walking him backward until his spine hit the cold glass. One hand locked around Riven's throat—not squeezing, just reminding—while the other yanked the tie on his pants.
Riven moaned into the kiss, the friction of Cassian's roughness driving him wild.
Cassian broke the kiss, breathing hard, eyes blazing. "You taste like fire. Like something I shouldn't touch."
"Then bite harder."
Cassian dropped to his knees.
He dragged the pants down and took him into his mouth in one slow, sinful motion. Riven cried out, the back of his head hitting the glass with a thud. His fingers tangled in silver-blond hair, hips jerking.
Cassian was brutal.
Relentless.
He didn't tease—he devoured, sucking and stroking with practiced precision, dragging moans from Riven that no one else had ever earned. It didn't take long. Riven came with a sharp cry, spilling into that wicked mouth, legs trembling.
Cassian swallowed everything.
Then stood.
"I'm not done with you."
He lifted Riven with surprising ease, carried him to the bed, and tossed him down.
No words. No mercy.
Cassian flipped him onto his stomach and grabbed the lube already waiting on the nightstand—because he knew. They both did.
Riven clenched the sheets in anticipation, heart hammering.
Cassian slicked his fingers and breached him slowly, then harder, stretching him until he squirmed and groaned. When he was ready, Cassian didn't ask—he just pressed in.
Thick. Deep. Unrelenting.
Riven's mouth fell open, breath stuttering. Cassian gripped his hips and slammed into him, over and over, each thrust making the bed creak and the headboard knock against the wall.
The air filled with heat and sweat and gasps.
Cassian leaned down, biting his shoulder again—marking him. Owning him.
"I don't want you to be loyal," he growled. "I want you to be mine."
"You already—fuck—already have me!"
The words pushed Cassian over the edge.
He buried himself deep and came with a growl, pulling Riven back tight, like he'd never let go.
When it was over, their bodies collapsed in a tangle of heat.
Cassian pressed his lips to Riven's spine, one kiss after another down the trail of sweat and ink. "I'll bite the flame if it means I get to keep you."
Riven, breathless, whispered, "Then burn with me."