Chapter 45: Wet Dreams
AYLA
"You came back,"
"I promised I would."
Cassian crossed the distance between us in two steps. His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone.
"I have wanted this," he murmured. "For so long."
"I have too" I whispered.
He kissed me.
His mouth slanted over mine, slow at first, savoring. His tongue slid along my lower lip before dipping inside. I melted into him, my fingers finding the fabric of his shirt, clutching, pulling him closer.
His hands dropped to my waist, then lower, gripping my hips and pulling me flush against him. I felt the hard length of him pressing against my belly, and a gasp escaped me.
"Cassian..."
He walked me backward until my spine met the rough bark of an oak tree. The bark bit into my shoulder blades, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was him... the heat of his body, the insistence of his hands, the way his mouth left mine to trail down my throat.
"I need to hear you say it," he breathed against my collarbone. "Tell me you want this."
"I want this. I want you."
A growl rumbled from his chest. His hands found the hem of my dress, pushing it up, bunching the fabric around my waist. The cool air hit my bare thighs, and then his fingers were there, sliding through the wetness that had gathered between my legs.
"Fuck, Ayla." His voice was ragged. "You are soaked for me."
I whimpered, my hips bucking into his hand. His fingers circled my clit, once then twice, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins. I clutched at his shoulders, my nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
"Please," I gasped. "I need you inside me."
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He held there, teasing, his forehead pressed against mine.
"Look at me," he said.
I did.
And then he thrust inside me.
The sensation was a fullness so complete it stole the breath from my lungs. I cried out, my head falling back against the tree, my fingers twisting in his hair. He began to move.
I could feel him everywhere.
The room came into focus slowly.
Cassian was above me.
His body pressed against mine, his mouth on my throat and his hand gripping my thigh where it had hooked around his hip.
I was not dreaming anymore.
"Cassian," I breathed.
He stilled immediately, his blue eyes met mine, dark with desire.
"I am sorry." His voice was hoarse. "I should not have... you were making sounds in your sleep and I turned to check on you and you pulled me down and then your mouth was on mine and I could not..." He closed his eyes. "I am sorry."
I looked at him.
His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, and I could feel the tremor running through his arms where they braced on either side of me.
I reached up and traced the line of his jaw.
"Do not be sorry."
"Ayla..."
I pulled his mouth back to mine.
The kiss deepened instantly. His tongue slid against mine, and I opened for him, my arms winding around his neck, pulling him down until his weight pressed me into the mattress.
His hand slid up my thigh, pushing the fabric of my dress higher. His fingers found the edge of my underclothes, hooking under the fabric...
A knock shattered the moment.
"Prince Cassian?" A muffled voice came through the door. "I am here to clean the room as requested. Shall I come back later?"
We both froze.
I pulled back, my chest heaving, my face burning. Cassian stared down at me, his breathing just as ragged, his cock still pressing insistently against my thigh.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
I groaned, rolling onto my side and pulling the blanket over my head.
"Tell her to go away," I mumbled into the pillow.
Cassian let out a breathy laugh. He cleared his throat, raising his voice toward the door.
"One moment," he called out. "I will be right with you."
He turned back to me, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
"Saved by the maid."
I uncovered my face just enough to glare at him. "This is not funny."
"It is a little funny."
"It is not."
But the corner of my mouth was already twitching.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
"I will distract her. Use the bathing chamber. There is a fresh tunic hanging behind the door."
I watched him climb out of bed, adjusting his trousers with as much dignity as he could muster. By the time he reached the door, he looked almost composed.
I slipped out of bed and darted into the bathing chamber, closing the door behind me just as I heard Cassian pull the main door open.
"My apologies," he said, his voice smooth. "I was resting. You can come back in an hour."
I pressed my forehead against the cool wood of the bathing chamber door, my heart hammering, my thighs pressed together against the ache that still throbbed between them.
The cold water I splashed on my face did little to help.
When I emerged, the room was empty.
Cassian’s tunic hung loose on my frame, the hem falling to my thighs. I had rolled the sleeves three times, and it still swallowed my hands. It smelled like him and it made me want to bury my face in the fabric and never leave.
By the time I stepped into the hallway, Cassian was waiting for me, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had changed into a fresh shirt, his hair still slightly damp from whatever quick wash he had managed.
His eyes swept over me, and a smile spread across his face.
"You look good in my clothes."
Heat crept into my cheeks.
We walked to the dining hall together.
The moment we stepped through the door, Damon looked up from his plate. His amber eyes moved from Cassian to me, then back to Cassian. One eyebrow rose.
"Well, well, well."
"Shut up," Cassian said, before Damon could get another word out.
"I did not say anything yet."
"Whatever you are about to say, shut up."
Damon’s grin widened. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, thoroughly enjoying himself.
"You walk in together, she is wearing your clothes, her hair looks like she just rolled out of bed, and you expect me to say nothing?"
"Yes."
"Not a chance." Damon turned to me. "How was it, Ayla? Was he gentle? Did he cry afterward?"
"Enough." Cassian pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit, placing himself between me and Damon. "Eat your breakfast and keep your mouth full so you do not have to use it for talking."
Damon laughed and I found myself smiling despite the heat still burning in my cheeks.
I reached for a piece of toast, buttering it with more concentration than it required, trying to ignore the way Damon’s knowing gaze kept drifting toward me.
The door burst open.
All three of us turned.
One of my ladies in waiting stood in the doorway, her chest heaving and her wide with fear.
"Lady Ayla." Her voice came out in a gasp. "You need to come. Please, you need to come now."
"What is it? What happened?" I asked, rising to my feet swiftly.
She looked at me, her throat working as she struggled to get the words out.
"It is Astrid." Her voice cracked. "She is in trouble."