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Cassian reads it once. Twice. His brow furrows as he tries to figure out what that means, why she texted that message to him when he's in the middle of these reports. He starts to type out just that question back to her, but she must have seen he'd read her first message because before he can finish, a second message comes through.

This one is a picture.

There's no mistaking the navy blue sheets of their bed, no mistaking the dark wood of their headboard in the top part of the frame. But it's the center of the photo, the focus of it, that has Cassian almost swallowing his tongue, a choked off sound escaping from his throat.

Golden brown hair cascades across the pillow like waves of burnished gold. The strands frame a face tipped back, pink dusting high along the cheeks. Cassian's eyes follow that pink, that flush, across milky smooth skin down and down until it vanishes beneath the red lace covering Nesta's chest. His favorite color. His gaze keeps going down and down, but the photo cuts off what he's really hoping to see. Still, the implication is clear with the way Nesta's arm is positioned, her hand clearly buried between her legs off frame.

Cassian tries to clear his throat, tries to swallow, but suddenly, his throat is too dry. Already, he can feel himself growing hard, and he reaches a hand down to readjust himself in his sweatpants. He knows he needs to get back to his work, needs to refocus on the task at hand, but he can't stop staring at that damned photo.

As if the ache between his legs isn't enough, his hands seem to ache too. Ache to glide along those miles and miles of skin. Ache to be filled with her breasts, to squeeze until they're spilling out of that red, lacy bra, so he can get his mouth on them. Fuck, he wants to get his mouth on all of her. Trace the line of her neck, biting bruises into the skin there that won't fade for days. Taste the fingers of her hand hidden from the photo then drink directly from the source.

A third text message comes in, and Cassian's resolve finally snaps.

Won't you help me, daddy?

Cassian quickly types out his response, pressing send and waiting. It takes less than a minute before he hears the shuffling of feet outside the door, the creak of wood as it's pushed open. Nesta struts into his office, and Cassian gets to see the outfit in all its glory in person. The red, lacy bra cradles her breasts, pushing them up and on full display. The matching lace panties sit high on her hips, and Cassian already knows the cut of them show off her ass without even seeing it.

Cassian stays seated in his office chair, his eyes tracking her every movement. Nesta walks in with a wide smirk, twirling a strand of her hair almost innocently. A wolf in sheep's clothing indeed. She looks every bit like she's won, like the cat that got the cream, but as she takes in Cassian's expression, the smirk starts to slip. Cassian would be concerned if the blues of her eyes didn't flare and blaze in excitement. She knows exactly how this game goes.

"And what did you think you were doing?" Cassian asks, keeping his voice low but calm. "Sending me that photo?"

"I told you," Nesta offers, stepping around the desk and closer to him, sliding a finger along his collarbones. "I was feeling lonely."

"I have to finish these reports," Cassian reminds her, shifting his office chair back enough that he can pull Nesta onto his lap, that she can feel the effect she had on him pressing up against her. "And you ruined my concentration. How am I supposed to work after that?"

"I'm sorry."

"I don't think you're sorry at all."

"Maybe I'm not," Nesta agrees, peering up at him from under her lashes and grinding down against his lap. Cassian tightens his grip on her hips, pausing the movement, and Nesta lets out a quiet whine.

"How very naughty of you, Nes. And here I thought you were daddy's good girl."

"I am good."

"Really? That's not what your little photo suggests. You know good girls don't come without permission."

"But I didn't come," Nesta protests, shifting her hips again as if to prove her point, prove her neediness. "I was waiting for you."

Cassian hums but he doesn't say anything more. He slides his hands down along Nesta's hips and back until he can grasp at her ass, kneading it. Nesta's eyes flutter closed at the gesture, a soft gasp falling from her lips and her arms tightening around his shoulders. Cassian leans in, sliding his nose along the underside of her jaw before following the same path with his lips.

He blazes a trail all the way to her ear, whispering, "you want to play, Nes?" This close together, he can hear the way her breath hitches in her lungs, can feel the way she dips her chin in a nod. "Use your words, baby."

"Yes," Nesta breathes before he even finishes speaking.

"I think we need to see if you can really be my good girl," Cassian offers, nipping at her ear until Nesta is shuddering in his arms. "I think you should warm daddy's cock until he's finished his reports."

Nesta lets out another whine, this one high pitched and seemingly pulled right from the back of her throat. Her head tips forward as she buries her face in the crook of his neck, her lips skating across his skin, and Cassian has to swallow a groan of his own.

"Are you going to be my good girl?" Cassian murmurs into her hair.

"Yes," Nesta repeats, lifting her head up and leaning in for a kiss.

Cassian slots their lips together, slipping his fingers through the strands of her hair and tilting her head how he likes it, so he can press his tongue into her mouth. She moans into the kiss, and Cassian can feel his resolve starting to slip, finds himself tempted to say fuck it to his original plan. Nesta is intoxicating. The softness of her lips against his. The way she tastes. Having her pliant in his arms. He could do this all day. He could get lost in her all day.

Reluctantly, Cassian breaks the kiss and pulls away, but he continues to stare at her. Her mouth is parted still, lips kiss bitten and swollen. Her eyes are still closed, long eyelashes kissing her cheeks. And those cheeks are flushed such a pretty shade of pink, one that matches the flush of her still heaving chest.

She's truly the most beautiful woman Cassian has ever seen and she's all his.

How did he get so lucky again?

Nesta lets Cassian maneuver her off his lap, so she's standing in front of him. He slides his hands down along her ribcage, over her waist, her hips. He toys with the waistband of her panties before leaving them be, instead following the line of fabric between her legs and pulling it aside. He teases his fingers between her folds, feather light touches that have Nesta pressing down against his hand desperately. He chuckles at the reaction, slipping two fingers into her, but it quickly turns into a groan when he's met with no resistance.

"Already so wet and ready for me, baby?" Cassian asks, curling his fingers just right. "You're absolutely soaked."

"Cass," Nesta gasps out around a moan. "Daddy. Please."

Cassian pulls his fingers free, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. Nesta's gaze tracks the movement, watching him through hooded eyes, and Cassian doesn't even bother biting back his smirk. He shifts enough in his seat that he's able to tug his sweatpants off, never more grateful than today for the comfort of working from home. Nesta licks her lips as soon as his cock springs free, and Cassian gives himself a few strokes before lounging back in the chair, arms resting casually against the armrests.

"Come on, then," Cassian tells her, licking his own lips as his eyes sweep over her frame, every delicious inch all for him and wrapped in a pretty bow. "Come sit on my cock."

Nesta turns around, her back to him, and shuffles back so she can comfortably straddle his legs. She reaches down, and Cassian lets out a hiss as she gives him a cursory stroke, but then she's holding him steady and lowering herself down. Cassian has to bury his groan against her shoulder as her tight heat envelopes him, as she sinks down and down until she's flush against his thighs. He can feel the way she clenches around him, can feel the air stuttering in her lungs where her back is pressed against his chest. It's heaven if there ever is one.

"So perfect for me," Cassian praises, brushing her hair aside and pressing a kiss to the juncture between her shoulder and neck. "My perfect girl."

A soft moan falls from Nesta's lips, and her head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He can see the little crease between her brows, see the way her bottom lip is caught firmly between her teeth. He knows she's trying hard to concentrate on keeping calm, putting all her focus on being still.

"Now, be a good girl for daddy and don't move."

Cassian reaches forward with his left hand, picking up the report he'd left off at. He keeps his right hand on Nesta's knee, tracing soothing lines back and forth with his thumb. He stays just like that as he goes through each of the remaining reports, but every time he needs his right hand to jot something down, to take notes or circle something, he returns it just a little bit higher on Nesta's thigh. By the time he's on the last report of the stack, his hand is resting right at her hip joint, his thumb just barely brushing against her clit.

Nesta lets out a sound halfway between a moan and whine, clenching around him again before whispering, "how many more?"

"How many more what, baby?" Cassian asks, even though he already knows, not stopping the lazy back and forth motion of his thumb.

"Reports," Nesta huffs quietly, her hips starting to stutter before she stops herself.

"That was the last one."

Nesta's whole body freezes at that. Her eyes snap open, watching as Cassian removes his hands from her, as he neatly stacks all the papers on his desk, as he opens one of the drawers and tucks them away.

"You were so good for me," Cassian tells her, returning his hands to her body and squeezing at her breasts through the thin material of her bra.

"Yeah?" Nesta asks, her voice breathless.

"Yeah. And good girls get rewarded."

Before Nesta can ask or say anything more, Cassian grasps at her waist. He hauls her off him and his lap, spinning her around so he can splay her out on his now empty desk. He slips out of his desk chair and down to his knees, finally reaching up to tug Nesta's panties down and off. Once those are discarded, he curls his hands around Nesta's ankles, sliding up her calves, over her knees, and up her thighs.

"What color, Nes?"

"Green," Nesta assures him, reaching a hand down and burying her fingers in his hair.

"Good girl," Cassian praises, pressing a sweet kiss to her inner thigh before smirking back up at her. "You love seeing me kneel before you, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Think about it all the time?"

"Only sometimes. I think about your cock more."

"Greedy. You just had it," Cassian chastises, nipping at her skin in retaliation. "It's alright. I think about your pretty little cunt all the time. How it feels gripping me. How it tastes."

As if to prove his point, Cassian leans in and licks a long, slow stripe over her. Nesta moans loudly, her hand tightening in his hair. The sensation along with having his face pressed right where he wants to be has Cassian groaning against her. He swirls his tongue over her clit, just the way he knows Nesta likes, before shifting down to fuck his tongue into her. Nesta's thighs start to shake, and he keeps his grip on them firm, holding them open as he continues to lick and devour at his leisure, but all the teasing from before has her close already.

"Please please please," Nesta begs, canting her hips against him. "Please let me come. Please."

Cassian pulls back enough that he can speak, licking his lips and smirking up at her. "You're always so pretty when you beg." He gives another deep lick, relishing in the way Nesta's thighs squeeze against his grip on them, the way her whole body shudders. "You've been so good. My good girl. Come for me, baby. Come all over my face."

Cassian leans back in properly and sucks her clit between his lips. It's all Nesta needs. With a loud, throaty moan, she shatters, yanking on his hair and arching her hips up against him. Cassian continues to work his mouth against her until the shaking subsides, until she lets out a soft whimper at the stimulation. He pulls himself to his feet, cradling Nesta's face in his hands and connecting their lips. Nesta moans into his mouth, pressing her tongue against his and tasting herself. It's way hotter than it has any right to be. She's way hotter than she has any right to be.

Cassian pulls away to press kisses along her jaw, down her neck, to her shoulder. "Color, Nes."

"Green. It's green," Nesta tells him, pulling at his face until he's kissing her again. "I want you now."

"Is that so?" Cassian teases, biting her bottom lip and tugging gently.

"Please. Please fuck me, daddy."

Cassian groans, tugging her off the desk and flipping her around so he can bend her over it. "You know how much I love it when you beg."

He fists his cock in his hand, sliding it teasingly against her slit, against the wetness gathered there from his mouth and her orgasm. He knows he should tease her more, should see how much he can really get her to beg, but he can't wait anymore. He presses his hips forward and sinks back into her.

"Gods, you always feel amazing around me," Cassian groans, thrusting shallowly until he's seated to the hilt. "You were made to take daddy's cock, weren't you?"

"Yes," Nesta moans, pressing her hips back against him.

Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, pulling his hips back and snapping them forward. His hands find purchase on Nesta's hips, holding her steady as he fucks into her hard and fast, the sound of slapping skin quickly filling the small office space, mixing in with the litany of moans from Nesta and him alike.

"Fuck, you take me so well. That's my good girl. Could fuck you like this all day."

He shifts one of his hands to wrap his arm around Nesta's waist, tugging her back flush against his chest and allowing him to fuck her harder and deeper. He reaches his hand into her bra and pulls her breasts free, rolling and tugging her nipples between his fingers. Nesta's moans take on a higher pitch, louder in a way that Cassian's glad they finally moved out that apartment and into this house. His name starts to fall past her lips like some kind of chant, and Cassian can't help but agree with the sentiment, swears he's found religion cradled between Nesta's thighs.

"That's it, baby," Cassian tells her, dropping his forehead against shoulder. "Love hearing you scream my name. Makes me even harder."

Nesta's hand comes up to squeeze at Cassian's wrist, nails scraping to find purchase and her cunt clenching around him tight enough that his hips stuffer for a moment. "Cass—fuck. Don't stop. Right there. Don't stop."

"Close again, already?" Cassian asks, Nesta responding with a half intelligent moan as he keeps snapping his hips into her. It's answer enough, and Cassian raises his hand up to her lips. "Open up, baby."

Nesta parts her lips, and Cassian presses two fingers into her mouth. Nesta moans around them, sucking on them and lathering her tongue between them. When they're good and coated, Cassian pulls his fingers free, sliding his hand down to where they're joined and rubbing tight circles against Nesta's clit.

"Now, be daddy's good girl and come all over my cock," Cassian instructs, his lips pressed right against Nesta's ear.

Nesta arches back against him, crying out hoarsely, as she shatters again. He continue to work his hips and his fingers against her, making sure her release is good and stretched out for her.

"Such a good girl," Cassian praises once Nesta comes back down. "So fucking gorgeous when you come."

Nesta slumps forward against the desk, her chest still heaving with the aftershocks. He can still feel the way she flutters around him, and Cassian groans as he follows her down, pressing his lips soothingly along her shoulder blades, down the top of her spine.

"What color now, baby?" Cassian murmurs against her skin.

"Green. Still green," Nesta pants. "So green."

"Think you can come again, then?" Cassian asks, rocking his hips forward pointedly. "I think you can come again."

Nesta turns to look at him over her shoulder, a pretty pout marring her lips. "I want you to come."

"Is that so?"

"Want you to fill me up. Want to be so full of you, daddy."

Cassian has to squeeze his eyes shut, has to remind himself to breathe, even as a loud, deep groan tears its way straight from his chest. It's exactly what he wants to hear, and she knows it. They both know it. Both know exactly how this game ends.

Cassian takes a deep breath to steady himself and carefully pulls his hips back, slipping out of her. Nesta lets out an adorable whine at the loss, her brow furrowing.

"Shhh, don't worry, baby," Cassian soothes her, turning her back around and hoisting her back onto his desk. "Daddy's going to take care of you. I just want to see your beautiful face."

Nesta wraps her arms around Cassian's shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, and they both moan into each other's mouths as he lines himself back up and slides back home. He grasps Nesta's thighs, securing her legs tightly around his waist before settling his hands on the desk, using it to both steady himself and provide leverage as he fucks back into her with earnest, quickly re-finding a pace that has Nesta keening against him, that has them both moaning.

"My baby wants me to put a baby in her, doesn't she?" Cassian asks, snapping his hips hard and fast. "Wants me to fill her up until she's full of my come?"

"Yes," Nesta shouts, her head tossed back as she moans. "Gods, yes."

"Going to fill you up until you're absolutely dripping. Going to put a baby in you. And then everyone will know you're mine, won't they? There won't be any doubt. They'll all know who this cunt belongs to. Whose cock keeps it full."

Cassian's hips start to stutter, and he knows his own orgasm is looming, glittering just out of reach. He reaches a hand between them, finding Nesta's swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles while he continues to rock desperately against her.

"You're all mine, baby. Mine to fuck. Mine to keep nice and full of my come. Until your stomach's swollen with my baby. But I need you to come for me again, baby. One more time. I know you can do it. You're my good girl. Come all over daddy's cock again and he'll fill you up."

One last press against her clit, one last snap of his hips, and Nesta finds her release. Her whole body shakes with this one, her lips parting on a near silent scream. She clamps down tight around him, and Cassian barely lasts for a handful more of thrusts before he presses his hips deep and spills inside her.

They both go collapsing against his desk, Nesta's legs still snug around his waist and keeping him close. Cassian rests his forehead against her collarbone, taking a few heaving breaths and trying to bring his heart rate back down to normal. He can feel her own heart beat racing away where they're pressed together, two souls thrumming in time. It has him smiling softly against her skin.

He's not sure how long they stay like that before he pushes himself up onto his forearms. He reaches a hand up and brushes the sweaty strands of Nesta's hair away from her face, trailing his fingers down along her temple, her cheek. Her eyes flutter closed at the gesture, and Cassian shifts his hand so his palm is cradling her jaw, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

"All good?" Cassian asks when he pulls away.

Nesta pulls him in for another kiss, a happy, sated smile on her lips. "More than good."

Cassian chuckles softly, grinning as well. "We should probably clean ourselves up."

He scoops Nesta up properly into his arms, carrying her out of the office and down the hall to the bathroom. He sets her down on the lip of the tub, leaving her to clean herself up while he does the same. He steps over to their adjoining closet after he's finished, slipping on a fresh pair of sweatpants and grabbing one of his tees.

When he steps back into the bathroom, he tugs the tee over Nesta's head. She smiles up at him as she slips her hands through the sleeves, standing up and going up onto her toes to kiss him. She tries to step back after, but Cassian snags his arms around her waist, keeping her close. He leans in and kisses her again, soft and languid.

"I love you," Cassian murmurs against her lips.

Nesta lets out a quiet huff of amusement, the twinkle in her blue eyes betraying her. "I love you too."

Cassian reaches down to grasp at Nesta's thighs, hauling her back up and into his arms. She lets out a squeal of surprise, her own arms quickly locking around his neck, but soon she's laughing at his antics. His favorite sound. It has warmth pooling in his chest and flooding his veins, his grin wide enough his cheeks start to ache.

He carries Nesta into their room, gently tossing her onto the bed before diving right in beside her and pulling the blankets over them both. He wastes no time tugging her back into his arms, burying his face into her hair and breathing her in.

"I didn't ruin your work, did I?" Nesta asks after a few moments of silence, shifting slightly so she can peer at him over her shoulder.

"No," Cassian assures her, pressing a kiss to the skin peeking out from her collar, his tee oversized on her frame. "If anything, you gave me the motivation to finally get all those reports done."

"Good," Nesta says, laying her head back down comfortably against the pillow. She settles her arm over Cassian's that's wrapped securely around her waist, slotting their fingers together. "So, you're done working for today?"

"All done working. I'm all yours for the rest of the day, baby. And I vote that we take a nap, order food from that Thai place you love, then go for round two."

"Now, that sounds like a perfect plan."

—

They’d watched the filthiest movie she’d been able to find, she’d said all the right things, made all the right moves, and she’d finally found out what her best friend looked like on his knees, with his head between her legs and his hair tickling her inner thighs. She’d felt his teeth on her shoulder, his callouses on her breasts, his groans reverberating against her most intimate spot. When Cassian had rasped sweetheart in her ear, Nesta had thought she had shifted realities and landed in one of the imaginary worlds she’d built in her head.  

Then sweat had cooled on her skin, her brain had started working again, and she had realized her plan had backfired. Now she knew Cassian’s body was attracted to hers, but she had no clue where the rest of him stood.

And then her best friend had proposed the craziest deal she’d ever heard. “If you meet someone truly special and want to be with them, you tell me, and we end this.”

No, you idiot! She’d wanted to yell. You’re my someone special! My book has a character that looks exactly like you! I let you eat me out in my living room! How many more hints do you need?

Instead, she’d said “deal,” then climbed on top of him and lost herself in his arms, successfully avoiding thinking about the deep shit she was in for the rest of the night.

Another thud sounded in the otherwise silent room as Nesta purposefully hit her head on the door. Grumbling under her breath, she stood and padded to the shower, the aches in her body a reminder of the night’s events.

A few reddish marks were scattered on her neck and chest, matching the ones on her inner thighs. Luckily, the only thing on her schedule for the following day was sitting at her desk and writing at least three thousand words.

Under the spray of hot water, Nesta’s mind returned to the deal she’d made with her best friend.

The idea of dating other people made her nauseous. She doubted she would even find someone that didn’t give her the ick, as most men tended to do.

Maybe she needed to keep things as they were  - a best friends-with-benefits situation - and just focus on finishing her book.

Or maybe Cassian didn’t have feelings for her at all, and going out with someone else was actually a good idea.

—-

Cassian

Cassian was fucked. He was wholly and thoroughly fucked. When he’d come up with that damn deal, he had been high on the feeling of Nesta’s naked breasts brushing against his chest and how she had shivered when he’d called her sweetheart. Emboldened by the night’s events but too much of a coward to confess his feelings, he’d told Nesta he was okay if she saw other people as long as she ended things with him in case she met someone special. 

What Cassian hadn’t expected was for Nesta to actually meet a man she considered smart and handsome enough to date her. And he certainly hadn’t expected Nesta to go on not one, not two, but three dates with the guy. Years of reading romance novels and eventually becoming an author herself had given her incredibly high standards, resulting in her being extremely picky when it came to dating. Apparently, there was something extraordinary about this man she’d agreed to go to dinner with three times. 

Cassian couldn’t see it. 

He thought Eris Vanserra was a cocky asshole who flaunted daddy’s money every chance he got. He probably brought Nesta to the fanciest restaurants, fed her caviar and champagne, and gave her sparkly jewelry after each date. After all, Nesta had grown up wealthy. 

Her mother’s death and her father’s gambling problem had forced her to change her lifestyle, but she had maintained a taste for expensive things. Her apartment was small, but her wardrobe was filled with overpriced clothes and even more expensive bags. Being a writer didn’t pay much, but her inheritance - the part of it her father hadn’t gambled away - allowed her to maintain a good lifestyle. On top of that, Cassian had no doubt her highly anticipated second book would turn her into a best-selling author, which would jumpstart her career. Maybe showing up at a work event with an old-money date like Vanserra was better than bringing someone like Cassian, who hated wearing ties and making small talk. 

And yet-

There was no redhead in Nesta’s books. Instead, there was a tall history teacher with a scar on his left eyebrow and hair that reached his shoulders. 

One drunken evening, Cassian had been sitting opposite Nesta on the floor of his living room, an empty wine bottle and a forgotten chessboard between them. 

“Are any of your characters inspired by people you know in real life?” Cassian had asked.

Nesta had held his gaze, her throat bobbing. “You’re not a history teacher,” she had replied after a few charged seconds, busying herself with collecting the chess pieces.

Cassian might not have been a teacher, but he did have a passion for history, which Nesta was aware of, given she’d been his friend for thirteen years, and she knew him like the back of her hand. And yet, she hadn’t realized he was desperately in love with her. There were days when he couldn’t fathom how someone as clever as Nesta hadn’t figured it out. The rest of their friends certainly had. They had invited him to go out for drinks tonight, but he had opted to stay home and feel sorry for himself. 

The umpteenth text from them made his phone buzz.

Are you sure you don’t want to come here and get drunk with us? Mor’s text said.

Are you sure you don’t want to crash Nesta’s date? Rhys added. 

Cassian replied to his brother with a middle finger emoji and tossed his cell on the couch. Sighing, he stood and grabbed a beer from the fridge. 

His phone buzzed again. 

Just talk to her, Azriel had written.

What was Nesta doing now? He tried to picture her, hair unbound and eyes bright as she laughed at something Eris said. He pictured the redhead tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his eyes dropping to her mouth. Would Nesta’s breath catch, or would she give Eris a soft smile, the one Cassian had claimed as his? Would she rake her nails through his scalp and moan softly when his tongue touched hers? Would Eris bring Nesta to his house? He hoped it was the other way around so that Vanserra could see the traces of Nesta and Cassian’s friendship scattered around Nesta’s apartment - a polaroid of them on her fridge, another picture on her bookshelf, Cassian’s spare toothbrush in the bathroom. He hoped Eris would see all that and‌ be reminded of who he would have to deal with if he ever made Nesta suffer.

Dropping his forehead on the table, Cassian closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the conversation he would inevitably have with Nesta the next day. I really like Eris, and I want to keep seeing him. You and I should go back to just being friends. 

“I’m happy for you, Nes. Eris seems like a good guy,” he tried saying, feeling himself grimace. He needed to practice more if he wanted his best friend to believe him. 

This time, when the phone buzzed, Cassian ignored it.

 When he heard the knock, Cassian quickly padded to the living room, bare-chested, with his toothbrush still in his mouth and toothpaste on his chin. On his way to the door, he glanced at the clock. Who the hell was bothering him at half past midnight on a Thursday? 

To Cassian’s surprise, Nesta was standing in the narrow hall of his floor, arms crossed above her chest and an impatient frown on her face. 

“I texted you twelve times,” she said as a greeting, shouldering past him and into his apartment. 

Nesta was usually graceful and poised, her movements those of a girl who had been taught how to sit properly from a very young age. But, tonight, Cassian watched her drop her purse on the floor and squint at the light as she lowered herself onto the couch in a very un-Nesta way. 

“Hi?” he said. 

Tilting her head to the side, Nesta gave him a slow, thorough once over, before letting her head drop to the back of the couch. “You have toothpaste dripping down your chin,” she said to the ceiling. 

Still shocked by Nesta’s sudden appearance, Cassian hurried back to the bathroom and rinsed his mouth. When he returned to the living room, his best friend was struggling with the tiny clasps of her silver heels, her movements sluggish.

Leaning against the doorframe, Cassian crossed his arms and enjoyed the rare sight of a drunk Nesta. “Need some help?” He teased, earning himself a glare that had his body react embarrassingly fast. Nesta’s temper had always done that to him. 

She wore a simple black dress, the neckline modest, the sleeves long, and the hem reaching her knees. Her hair was in a sleek bun, and silver earrings shone at her ears, catching the light every time she moved. She looked exquisite. 

He wanted to ask her so many questions, but he bit his tongue and waited for her to speak. 

“Finally,” Nesta muttered as she took off her left heel and kicked it halfway across the room. “These shoes are killing my feet.” 

Removing one shoe must have taken a toll on her since she didn’t even attempt to do the same with the second. Instead, she leaned back against the couch, lifted one long, toned leg - the one whose foot was still trapped in the heel - and met Cassian’s gaze. “Help me?” She said, her voice dripping honey. 

Who was he to deny her? In a few lazy strides, he was kneeling at Nesta’s feet, his fingers making quick work of the clasp of her heel. 

The soft moan she let out when he took off her shoe had him grip the edge of the couch. 

She’s drunk, he reminded himself. And she’s just been on a date with another man. 

He made to stand, but Nesta threw her leg across his shoulder, effectively trapping him on the floor. 

His hand flew to her thigh. To stop her or encourage her, he didn’t know. 

For thirteen years, Cassian had had impressive restraint when it came to his best friend. But, after sleeping with her, he had become sloppy, his control slipping away with every heated glance she threw his way. 

“You’re good with your hands,” Nesta said, her eyes studying his lips. 

God, why are you giving me your hardest battles?

“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Fuck, he probably shouldn’t have used the term of endearment she seemed to like so much. 

Nesta’s thigh flexed under his palm as if his words had triggered a physical response in her. Her face said something different, though, an unexpected crease appearing between her eyebrows. “I’m mad at you,” she suddenly said, kicking him away with impressive strength. 

“What?” Her abrupt mood swing confused the hell out of him.

Nesta didn’t bother with an explanation. Instead, she stood and headed for the kitchen, her hands finding purchase on various pieces of furniture.

What the- “Nesta!” Cassian called, scrambling to his feet and following her. The last thing he wanted was for her to fall and hurt herself.

“What’s going on? And why are you even here? Did something happen?” 

Nesta reached for a glass and started filling it with water. “I was drunk and didn’t think driving all the way to my place was a good idea. Yours was closer.”

It made sense. It wasn’t the first time Nesta had shown up at Cassian’s place unannounced and crashed on his couch. He always offered her the bed, and she always refused, no matter how much he insisted. Finally, one night, Cassian had physically picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, dropped her unceremoniously on his bed, and quickly tucked her in until she resembled a Nesta-sized burrito with only her head peeking out from the comforter. 

This time, though, Cassian suspected that being too drunk to get home wasn’t why Nesta had come to his apartment. Not when she could have easily asked Vanserra to drive her home. Unless-

Cassian’s eyes carefully swept Nesta’s figure. Her dress was in place, her hair perfectly smoothed back, no visible sign she had been in any sort of struggle. He couldn’t see her face, but he hadn’t noticed anything unusual earlier. Still, Cassian couldn’t help but ask. “Did Eris do something that made you uncomfortable? Do I need to have a friendly chat with him?”

Nesta finally turned to look at him. “And what would a friendly chat entail, exactly?”

“My hands around his throat, my fist on his face. Something like that,” Cassian replied as if that was the most obvious answer. “You choose, Nesta.”

His best friend rolled her eyes. “You have no reason to harm Eris, Cassian.” Setting the empty glass on the sink, she removed pin after pin from her hair, sighing each time she took one off. “He was a perfect gentleman, as always.”

She’s still a little drunk, Cassian thought. Don’t do it. Still, as if beckoned by an invisible force, Cassian slowly approached her, caging her between his body and the sink. Catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head back. “Why do you sound so disappointed, sweetheart?” He was playing dirty, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and whispering in her ear, “you’re not into gentlemen? Do you prefer someone rougher around the edges?”

He felt Nesta shiver, her lips pulling into a smirk as she traced the skin right above the waistband of his sweatpants with her fingers. “I don’t think a gentleman can handle me.”

Fuck. At that moment, Cassian wanted nothing more than to spin her around, bend her over the kitchen table, and show her exactly the kind of man she needed. “Are you saying you won’t be seeing Vanserra anymore?”

If Nesta had noticed the pathetically hopeful tone of his voice, she didn’t let on. “I’m saying,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with a sly smile. “That Eris kissed me.”

Cassian froze, both hands clenching the edge of the sink, his head spinning from trying to understand what Nesta was after. In less than thirty minutes, she had gone from openly trying to seduce him to literally kicking him to flirting again. And now she was telling him about kissing Eris? Was this some sort of test? 

He tried to take a step back, but Nesta held him tighter, not allowing him to escape. She pressed closer to him, her forehead resting just below his collarbone.

Signing, Cassian cupped the back of her neck. In thirteen years of friendship, Nesta had rarely shared intimate details about her love life with him. Still, he made himself ask. “And?”

Nesta’s answer took so long that he thought she had fallen asleep. Then her shoulders began shaking. 

What the-?

She snorted, her laugh muffled against his chest. She laughed for so long that Cassian began laughing with her.

“Nes, what the fuck? What’s so funny?” Cassian managed to ask. “Are you high?” 

She was smiling as she stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck, her mascara a bit smudged under her left eye.

“Eris kissed me, and I reciprocated,” she said, her nose cold against his neck. “Then I pulled away, went to the bathroom, and started laughing.”

“I-” Cassian frowned, his brain trying to process Nesta’s words. It wasn’t easy with her body pressed to his and the scent of her hair filling his nostrils with every inhale. “Okay. Did he do or say something funny?”

Nesta shook her head. “No, no. If I’m being honest, he was a great kiss-”

“I don’t want to hear how great of a kisser Vanserra is, Nes.” Cassian blurted out. Self-control, idiot. Remember when you had that?

Rolling her eyes, she pulled away but still kept her palms flat on his chest. “No matter how good or bad the kiss was, it still felt weird.”

Cassian traced her bottom lip with his thumb as if unconsciously trying to wipe any leftover trace of Eris from it. “How so?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. The urge to brush his thumb over her pulse point was maddening. 

“It didn’t really feel right, you know?” She murmured.

“Yeah, I know.” 

Cassian had been with many women in his life, and not a single one had felt as right as his best friend. 

Nesta’s blue-grey eyes met his, something unguarded and vulnerable in her gaze. “It wasn’t a romance book kiss.”

Cassian chuckled, his hands gently running through her golden brown strands. “What’s a romance book kiss like?”

“It’s-” Nesta narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve never read a romance book? What about the one I gave you three Christmases ago? What about my book? I swear if you lied to me about reading my book, I will-”

“Of course, I’ve read your book, Nes!” Cassian rushed to explain. “Who do you think I am?” Truth be told, he had read certain chapters multiple times, tabbing pages and overanalyzing every detail in a pathetic attempt to understand what Nesta looked for in a man. “Here’s the thing, Nesta. Your book is three hundred and fifty pages of sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, and the characters don’t even kiss. So no, I don’t know what the perfect romance book kiss is like for you.” A hand on her waist, the other still on her cheek, Cassian whispered, “tell me.” 

 It took Nesta a while to break the silence that had fallen in the room after his request. Something told him what she was about to say was important, so he stayed quiet and waited. 

“There isn’t such thing as the perfect romance book kiss.” Gently pushing Cassian away, Nesta began to walk around the kitchen as if she needed to move to get her words out. “It all depends on the couple and their dynamic. For some couples, the perfect first kiss is slow and sweet. It’s gentle touches and whispered words. It’s romantic and maybe even a bit cheesy. For other couples, the perfect first kiss is a frantic meeting of tongues and teeth, hands grabbing at anything they can reach. It’s messy, passionate, usually happens mid-argument when one of the two characters grabs the other one and shuts them up with a kiss.” As she walked, she freed her hair from her sleek ponytail, worked her fingers through her scalp, then took off her earrings and set them on the table next to her hair tie. Cassian had a collection of Nesta’s hair ties in his room. A pink scrunchie she had given him as a joke years ago - and that he proudly wore at least once a month- and the various hair ties and pins he always seemed to find in the most random places. 

“And there’s a whole bunch of different kisses in between. Accidental kisses, angry kisses….”

Cassian sat on a chair, elbow on the table and chin propped on his fist. “…sweet pecks and filthy, open-mouthed kisses. But if two people don’t fit together, the kiss doesn’t hit, no matter the setting or the circumstances. So basically, there’s no way of telling what the perfect romance book kiss is like. Got it?”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and her hair wild from running her hands through it as she spoke. Maybe it was how beautifully disheveled she looked or the fact that she was in his apartment in the middle of the night, passionately ranting about romance book tropes and perfect kisses. Maybe it was knowing kissing Eris had been a colossal disappointment. Or perhaps it was his last bit of self-control finally fading away after thirteen years of what felt like foreplay. Cassian didn’t know where his boost of courage and confidence came from, but he followed his instinct and went with it. “Come here,” he said, not caring about the barely concealed rasp in his voice. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” he repeated when she just stood there, toying with the sleeves of her dress. 

That did it. In a few steps, Nesta was standing between Cassian’s spread legs, her knees brushing the edge of his chair. He hummed as she let his knuckles graze the back of her thighs.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” he asked as he continued his exploration of her legs.

Nesta’s cheek turned a faint red, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “A glass of wine.”

“You couldn’t even take off your shoes, sweetheart. I think you had a bit more than that.” 

A breath rushed out of her when he grabbed her hips, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap. 

Her cheeks turned even redder. “I- might have put the acting classes I took as a child to good use.” 

Cassian arched a brow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning-” she smirked and brushed a kiss on his temple, the shell of his ear. “I might have pretended to be drunk to have an excuse to stop by for some- research.” Her nails scratching at his scalp, Nesta batted her lashes at him and leaned closer, pulling his lobe between her teeth and biting. “Sorry?” 

His cock was more than ready to forget about her lie, but his brain won the fight for once. Fisting a hand in Nesta’s hair, Cassian tugged her head back, exposing the column of her throat to his hungry lips. “You don’t need an excuse to stop by. And in case you don’t get what I’m trying to say, I’ll spell it out for you.” He stared into her eyes, the blue swallowing the grey under the faint light of his kitchen. “You’re always welcome here. I always want you, Nesta. Always.” He was laying himself bare for her, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stand the thought of spending another moment in the what-if zone, wondering what could happen if he stopped hiding everything he felt.

Nesta’s hands tightened in his hair. “Because I’m your best friend?” 

“Because,” Cassian rasped. “You’re more than that. You have been for a while.”

She went completely still. “I need you to be clearer, Cassian. Please.”

There was no going back now. Cassian took the plunge. “I don’t know exactly when it happened or how, but I- I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m talking butterflies in the stomach, going weak in the knees, not sleeping or eating kind of feeling.” His face burned hot, but he kept going. “I think about you all the time, Nesta, and it’s driving me fucking insane. Earlier, when you said kissing Eris didn’t feel right, I knew exactly what you meant. I knew it because you’re the only one who has ever felt right for me. When I kiss you, when I’m inside you, when I talk to you and make you laugh and listen to you ramble about books, you feel right. When we went on that road trip years ago, and we got lost thrice, and you snapped at me every time I asked a question, you felt right. And I think-” He was panting, his hands restlessly curling his hands into her dress and relaxing again. “I think you feel the same about me.”

 He hadn’t planned on talking so much, but once he’d started, the words had escaped without permission, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He’d gone out of a limb by assuming Nesta reciprocated his feelings, and now he worried he’d been too reckless. 

The woman straddling his lap blinked at him. Once. Twice. She’d been her best friend for more than ten years, yet he couldn’t decipher the look on her face. Shock? Fear? Confusion? 

“You’re in love with me,” she finally said.

Cassian nodded.

“You-” Sighing, Nesta threw her head back. “You,” she said again. “Are a fucking idiot.” She grabbed his face, her cool hands against his burning-hot cheeks. “Our deal is off.” 

For the millionth time that night, Cassian was lost. “What does it mean for us?” Is there still an us?

“It means,” Nesta said, the most beautiful smile overtaking her face. “That you’re not just my best friend anymore. It means you will now kiss me, take me to bed, and make it up to me for being an idiot. And tomorrow morning, you’ll make me breakfast and fuck me again before going to work. And when people ask us if we’re dating, we say yes. That’s what it means, Cassian.”

Cassian swore his entire body was vibrating, his heart trying to jump out of his throat as his brain processed what was happening. “So, to be clear,” he said, voice shaking. “You’re in love with me, too?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, Cassian. I’m in love with you.”

Her words washed over him, filling him with such joy and relief that he had to resist the urge to open the window and yell into the night, “Hey! Nesta Archeron is in love with me!!” 

 He mirrored her smile, and as his eyes dropped to her lips, heat began to spread low in his belly. “So, how should I kiss you now that you’re my girlfriend?” He waited for her to correct him, and when she didn’t, he got bolder, his hands skimming her calves, her thighs. “Slow and sweet..” His fingers found the cotton of her underwear. “Or open-mouthed and filthy? You choose.” 

Nesta licked her lips, slowly beginning to roll her hips against his rapidly hardening cock. “Considering our first kiss was right after you went down on me, I think we should continue down that line and skip the slow and sweet part.”

Chuckling, Cassian palmed her ass, giving it an indulgent squeeze. “Filthy, then,” he rasped. 

Fisting a hand in Nesta’s hair, he guided her head back and gave her just that. It was a possessive, hungry kiss, their jaws knocking together and breaths leaving them in short pants. It was thorough and dirty, the kind of kiss that would have gotten them arrested for public indecency if they’d been outside. 

They had kissed like this already, their lips saying I want you, and I want you right now. But this time, it was more than that. This time their lips were also saying hi. I’ve wanted you since I can remember. I would fucking die for you. You feel right with your lips on mine and your hands everywhere else. 

Cassian was sure his mouth was also saying, please marry me and have my babies. 

It had only been a week since the last time he’d had Nesta, but fuck if he wasn’t already close to losing it. Judging by the way Nesta was moving against him, she felt the same way. She sucked on his tongue, hands pulling at his hair, shameless moans leaving her as he guided her hips to grind on his erection, only his sweatpants and her thin underwear separating their skin. 

“Should I make you come just like this, sweetheart?” Cassian groaned. “I bet you’re close already, aren’t you?”

“Dry humping?” Nesta panted. “Is that all you got?” 

Cassian’s hand slapped the side of her thigh, making her gasp. “The next one goes on your ass, Nes. Behave.” 

Cupping the curve of her ass again, he squeezed it indulgently, a pained moan leaving his lips when she whimpered in his ear. “Just like that, sweetheart. Keep going. Fuck, you’re doing so good. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

Tugging at her dress, he pulled the neckline down as much as possible without ripping the fabric. His hands and mouth found the top of her breasts, his groans muffled against her skin. 

“Do you want to fuck them?” Nesta breathed, her head thrown back. 

He groaned, barely able to hold it together when presented with the view of her tits almost spilling out of her dress. “Oh, sweetheart. One day, I’ll fuck your gorgeous tits, your mouth, and any other part of your body you’re willing to let me touch. I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” 

Nesta kissed him then, open-mouthed and messy as she chased her orgasm. She met his gaze, lust and curiosity swimming in the blue of her eyes. “I’ll try anything once,” she panted, a smile tugging at her lips. “For research purposes, you know?”

Chuckling, Cassian kissed her again. “I’m always happy to help with that.” 

 He touched her through her underwear, the cotton already soaked, and she whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders as he cupped her heat, using the heel of his hand to stimulate her clit. 

She ground her hips against the pressure, short, labored breath leaving her parted lips. “Feels good.”

“Yeah? Good girl, keep going. Ride my hand,” he praised against her ear. 

Nesta gasped when her orgasm hit her. Cassian felt it in the staggering of her breath, in the frantic, erratic rolls of her hips against his hand, and he smiled, keeping his hand where it was and letting Nesta take what she needed. 

“I want you,” she breathed when she came down from her high, nuzzling his neck. The tip of her tongue brushed his throat, her legs still twitching with the aftermath of her pleasure.

Cassian teased her opening through her underwear. “I can tell,” he rasped, earning himself a bite on his shoulder, Nesta’s laugh muffled against his skin. 

“I want you, too.” 

Grabbing the back of her thighs, he stood and set her on the table, his mind running wild with everything he could do to her.

Before he could devise a plan, Nesta reached down and pulled off her dress, revealing a black bra. No lace, sheer, see-through material, just a simple cotton bra. For some reason, Cassian found that incredibly sexy. “You’re-” 

A pained grunt left him when Nesta smirked and leaned back on her hands, pushing her chest up. Universe, thank you for sending me this woman. “Perfect. Fucking perfect. There’s no other way to describe you.”

The clasp was in the front of her bra, right between the cups. Cassian groaned as he buried his face between Nesta’s breasts, red marks visible where he’d sucked on the skin earlier. His teeth and tongue made quick work of the clasp, Nesta’s breasts spilling free.

Her breathless laugh went straight to his cock. “I knew you’d like that.” 

His hands and lips were immediately on the plump flesh, Nesta’s gasps and soft moans encouraging him to suck, pinch and bite as he pleased. 

“I’m so wet, Cass,” she breathed, a hand fisting his hair. 

Cassian dragged her to the edge of the table, rolling his hips against her in a way that had them both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Yeah?” Cassian rasped. “Are you dripping all over this table, Nesta? Fuck, I’m never going to be able to eat here again without thinking about your cunt.”

Nesta’s whine was cut off when Cassian set her back on the floor and spun her around until she was facing the table. Crouching down, he roughly took off her soaked underwear, discarding it somewhere on the floor. On his way up, he kissed her calves, the small of her back, her shoulders. “How do you want it?” He rasped in her ear, spreading her legs open with his feet. 

Turning her head, Nesta caught his mouth in a sloppy kiss, her teeth pulling at his lower lip. “Hard. I want to feel you all day tomorrow.”

Fuck. 

With a hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her down until her chest was flat against the table. Seeing her bent over like that, he couldn’t help but drop to his knees and drag the flat of his tongue clear up her center. 

Nesta’s moan was so loud they’d probably heard it from across the street. 

After giving her one last lick, Cassian stood and entered her with a finger, then two. No matter how often they’d had sex, he wouldn’t risk fucking her without preparing her well first. 

“What’s taking so long?” Nesta panted when he added a third finger. “I thought I’d made it clear I’m not into gentlemen. Maybe I should call Eris back and-”

Cassian hadn’t wanted to take Nesta from behind the first time they’d slept together. It had felt too impersonal, too rough. Instead, he’d wanted to see her face when he entered her. He’d wanted to catalog her reactions and learn what she liked, to see if she would hold on to him when he took her slow and deep and if her eyes would roll to the back of her head. 

This time, he didn’t hesitate. Grabbing his cock, he fit it inside her and thrust hard, sending the table almost careening forward. 

Nesta gasped, her knees buckling. “Cassian!”

Bending down until his mouth was level with her ear, Cassian wrapped a hand around her throat. Not squeezing, just letting the weight of it be a warning. “That’s right, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s fucking you.” He pulled out until only the head of his cock was still inside her, then pushed back in, making her moan. “You’re not dating Vanserra anymore. You’re mine.” Another thrust of his hips, another answering cry from Nesta. “There won’t be anyone else. Ever.”

Nesta held onto the table and pushed her hips back, taking as much of him as she could. “There has never been anyone else, Cass. It’s always been you for me.” 

A shiver ran down his spine, Nesta’s admission making his breath stagger. He brushed his lips against her temple, the nape of her neck, and the skin between her shoulder blades, letting his forehead rest there. “And I’ve always been yours.” 

 He started fucking her with long, drawn-out strokes, mumbled curses leaving his lips each time she purposefully squeezed her walls around him. 

“Yes,” Nesta whimpered when he reached between her legs and began circling her clit. “Right there.”

He was already embarrassingly close, release gathering at the base of his spine. “Fuck, you take me so well, sweetheart. Come on my cock like a good girl.” A hand fisted in her hair, he quickened his thrusts, hitting the spot he knew made her eyes roll to the back of her head. He wished there was a mirror in front of them just so he could see the look on her face as he kept hitting that spot over and over. 

“Please,” Nesta whimpered, but Cassian only chuckled.

Fisting her hair tighter, he pulled her up until she stood on her tiptoes. It took some awkward maneuvering that had them giggle, but Cassian managed to lower himself back onto the chair he had been sitting on earlier, Nesta on his lap, her legs spread wide and his cock still inside her, her sweaty back against his equally damp chest. 

“I didn’t realize you were such a pillow princess,” Nesta panted as Cassian grabbed a handful of her breasts, his teeth against the side of her neck. 

Groaning, Cassian sneaked a hand around her stomach, braced his feet on the floor, and thrust up, grunting as her walls fluttered around him. “I thought you liked being on top, Nes.” 

He cursed when she leaned forward, braced both hands on the table in front of her, and began rocking her hips. 

They found a rhythm that worked for both of them, Cassian’s fingers on Nesta’s clit, circling it lightly and changing pressure and speed every time her walls began pulsing around him. His cock hated him, but he enjoyed riling Nesta up too much to stop.

“Fuck, you’re such an asshole,” she whined, falling back against his chest, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. 

“This pillow princess has stamina, sweetheart,” Cassian replied, his smug smile quickly replaced by a groan when Nesta purposefully tightened her walls around him. Shit, he was close. 

“You were saying?” Nesta panted, head dropping to his shoulder and big blue-grey eyes meeting his. She reached for his hair, raking her nails through his scalp, and he palmed her breasts in return, tugging and pinching her nipples until she was squirming on his lap. 

Humming, Cassian buried his nose in her hair. “What do you want, Nesta?” She smelled like sex and everything Cassian had ever desired, a head-spinning combination. 

“Make me co-”

He thrust hard, hands gripping her waist with bruising strength, his muscles burning from the effort and the need to release. Would he spill on her back this time, or would she stroke him until he came in her hand? “You want to be fucked, Nes?” He rasped. “Tell me how good my cock feels.”

A hand working between her legs and the other one still pulling at Cassian’s hair, Nesta moaned softly, breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck me. God, please, harder.”

It was her please that made him snap. Abruptly lifting her body from his lap, he spun her around and set her on the table with her back flat against it. He guided his cock inside her again, setting a hard, fast pace that had them groaning into each other’s mouths.

“God, yes,” Nesta panted, her nails digging little crescent moons into his back. 

He wanted to bleed and carry her scratches on his skin for weeks. He wanted to bite her neck and leave a mark there for everyone to see. He wanted so many things when it came to this woman. To go home every day and find her typing on her laptop, a forgotten cup of tea next to it. To cook for her as he told her about his day. He wanted to cuddle under a bunch of blankets, pull her close and smell her hair. He wanted everything.

Her legs tightened around him. “Come inside me,” she breathed.

“Sweetheart-”  Was she trying to kill him? Nesta was on the pill. Over the past few weeks, they’d both gotten tested, and when their results had come out clean, they’d agreed not to use condoms anymore. Still, Cassian had always finished on her stomach, on her back, or in her hand.

“Nes, are you sure?” he asked, rasping the words against her collarbones.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, tongue parting his lips and stealing his breath. “Please, come inside me. Please.”

Cursing, Cassian angled her head where he wanted it, teeth nipping at her lower lip. Nesta’s moan was loud when he started fucking her properly, thrusting fast and hard. 

Hand between her legs and back arched off the table, hair wild and make-up smudged under her eyes, Nesta looked so good Cassian couldn’t deny her - and himself - any longer.

When she cried out and pulsed around him, Cassian let go as well, groaning as he pulled her hips to his, trying to get as close to her as physically possible. “God, Nesta. Fuck.”

Their lips met in an almost-kiss, their mouths open as they tried to get some much-needed air into their lungs. Cassian could barely hear Nesta’s gasps over the blood pounding in his ears, the overwhelming feeling of their combined pleasures making his head spin. 

The frantic roll of his hips was slowly replaced by shorter, involuntary twitches, and Cassian let his forehead drop to Nesta’s chest with a groan. 

As he tried to catch his breath, he splayed a hand on her stomach, a smug, sated smile pulling at his lips. He pictured her stomach growing rounder, his baby inside it. It was way too soon for that, and he knew it, but maybe years from now, they could start building their own little family-

“What are you thinking about?” Nesta’s voice was gentle and a little hoarse, her hands soft in his hair. 

Cassian hid his smile against her skin. “Nothing.” He kissed her shoulder as he pulled out of her. Fuck, he shouldn’t enjoy seeing the mess between her legs - and on the table - so much.

Nesta sat up with a hiss, running a hand through her tangled hair. “You might need to replace this table. I’m not sure I can eat here anymore,” she said as she followed his line of sight.

Chuckling, Cassian picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. “Speak for yourself, Nes.” He kissed her cheek, then her temple.” That’s my new favorite piece of furniture.“

—

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