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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Your whimpered moans met his strained voice in the soft morning air. Daylight filtered in through slightly parted curtains to create a tableau worthy of the Sistine Chapel.
His body covering your own smaller one, muscles rippling and flexing as he takes you from behind.
You hadnât intended to start the morning this way, on the contrary youâd had something else in mind- not that you were complaining. How could you with his plush tip bullying that tender spot deep within your fluttering walls. As a matter of fact, words failed you all together once his fingers joined the symphony, stroking and petting your swollen clit in an attempt to soothe the ache.
âShhh, baby. Shit, so good, babyâŚâ His voice is strained, abdomen muscles taught with the effort not to finish before you⌠itâs just that you're so tight, and those sounds you make? He still marvels that you donât understand what a turn on your mere presence is to him.
The bed frame squeaked under the weight of your movements, headboard gently lapping at the wall like calm tides by the seashore with every roll of his hips into yours.
Large hands slid down your arms, freeing your trembling hands to link with his own. Soft praises and half curses spilled from his lips as he trailed open mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck.
âSo good for me, yeah?â A groan resounded from deep in his throat as he met his own blissed out gaze in the full length mirror youâd recently purchased. He hadnât understood the need for such a âmonstrosityâ as heâd put it, but now?
Now he wanted to panel the entire house in mirrors.
Something about watching your face - all scrunched and flushed- riled up something practically feral in him. His chest rumbled in that entirely masculine way, his knees dug deeper into the mattress, his teeth dug into the tender skin of your neck drawing a strangled mewl from your lips. His hips began to roll more urgently, driving himself as deep within your warmth as he could manage. You responded in kind, driving yourself back onto him, begging and whining sweetly.
His heart swelled and thundered, stuttering as your release toppled him past that glorious precipice and into a delicious purple haze. You lay tangled in the sheets, dappled by morning sunlight. His heart squeezed at the feel of your fingers playing at the muscle of his bicep.
He wasnât sure if heâd ever have words to tell you all that you meant to him. It seemed incomprehensible. How exactly did you tell someone that before them youâd been in the deepest of hells? That before you thereâd been only darkness and misery. That youâd sparked something within him that heâd thought long dead. He might not be a poet, but then again, youâd never asked for a poet.
could you do cassian with a shy mate who doesn't know how to react to causal intimacy??
sure. now, i sort of assumed with casual intimacy you mean like physical touch? sorry if i misinterpreted!
Cassian x shy!reader who is getting used to Cassian's touch [859 words]
CW: fem!reader, mates, Cassian's love language is physical touch, reader hates being perceived, rhys won't stop perceiving her, fluff
You try not to react outwardly when Cassianâs large hand lands on your knee, but you doubt that you do a very good job.
The touch itself isnât particularly scandalous; his palm doesnât stray anywhere impolite, yet it feels like a branding iron all the same.Â
Cassian is simply a touchy guy. His job is physical in itself, requiring him to help warriors get into proper positions, sparring, stretching, the whole shebang. And if that wasnât bad enough, youâve seen the way he is with his family.Â
The male constantly has an arm thrown around whoever finds themselves within grabbing reach. Flipping a lock of Morâs hair up into her face, clapping Azriel on the shoulder, hip-checking Feyre out of his way, brushing his shoulder up against Rhysandâs like the two of them are conspiring (they probably are).Â
So of course, it should come as no surprise that Cassian is equally as tactile with his mate.Â
Yet, it manages to surprise you every time.Â
Itâs likely due to a combination of factors. Your family was never overly affectionate in this way; hugs and kisses fizzled out rather quickly in your youth and now, hugs are merely reserved for hellos and goodbyes.Â
Itâs also probably in part that youâre a horribly shy creature and donât wish to be perceived in any capacity, and Cassianâs hand landing on your knee only goes to alert you to the fact that you are, indeed, a perceivable being.Â
If itâs at all possible, you shrink even further into yourself, hoping to eventually blend into the cushion of the loveseat that youâre currently occupying. Youâre silently chanting donât look, donât look, donât look as you scan the room to see who might be looking in your direction.
Cassian must hate you, though, because he lets out a sharp bark of laughter that has the majority of the room turning to look at him; sitting so close to him, youâre thus perceived by association.Â
He launches into some story that apparently requires both hands to accurately recall it, lifting his palm from where it was warming your knee and leaving it cold in his wake.
Great, now you miss his touch. You â ever so slowly â shift in your seat, crossing one leg over the other in a poor attempt to recreate some of Cassianâs warmth.Â
You fail, and you look up to find that Rhysand has witnessed your hopeless aim at self-soothing, the male sending you a comforting wink that brings you no comfort at all and sees you subconsciously shifting further into Cassianâs side, wondering if he might not extend his wing for you to hide behind.Â
Cassian mustâve felt you thinking about him, or maybe he really does just hate you, because he chooses that moment to turn in his seat in order to look at you. It requires him to shift his entire body since youâve all but melted into the cushions behind him.
âYou doinâ okay, gorgeous?âÂ
You hum in the affirmative but the sound is all wrong; pitchy, high, and a little bit wobbly.Â
âWhatâre you doing back there, hm?âÂ
Busted.
âHiding,â you admit, knowing better than to lie to him (again).Â
This time itâs Cassian who hums the affirmative, turning even further in his seat until his knees brush yours and you are granted the entirety of his attention. âRhys said you look like youâre trying to figure out how to winnow.â
You turn to look at the offending male who has the audacity to wink at you.Â
Squealer.
Rhysand throws his head back in laughter; you might have thought that particular thought a little too loudly.Â
âAwe, donât be mad at him, sweetheart,â Cassian chuckles, calloused fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before hooking underneath your chin and tilting your face up towards him. âHe canât help but notice the most beautiful fae in the room.âÂ
âCassian,â you hiss, face heating at his blatant flattery and youâd like for his hand to move away from your cheeks lest he realize what effect heâs having on you. âHis mateâs sitting right there.â
âI said what I said.âÂ
âWhy are you doing this to me?â You whisper, closing your eyes in resignation though you canât help the smile that dances at the corners of your lips.
âDoing what?â Cassian replies with a laugh that fans across your face. âWhat am I doing to you, huh?â
âTorturing me.â
âIâm loving you,â he counters proudly. âYouâve got a problem with that, sweetheart?â
âMaybe I do.â
Cassian lets out a huff of acknowledgement. âYeah? Well, tough.âÂ
He punctuates the sentiment with a gentle kiss to your lips before he finally lets go of your jaw, but he takes a moment to bump his nose against yours before pulling away as a silent apology for any discomfort. You both know if you truly had an issue, though, that heâd back off.Â
His hand doesnât stray far, however, returning to your knee as he jumps back into the conversation happening around him, this time the touch is paired with the occasional squeeze or a stroke of his thumb along your inner knee.
Š ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.
Imagine you have multiple piercings and heâs OBSESSED with them. He thinks they look so absolutely beautiful on you. The stack is so uniquely you somehow, catered to your tastes, and the different studs and earrings you choose to decorate them with reflect your personality and your mood that day. Like on days youâre feeling especially girly, thereâll be diamonds, butterflies, more dangly pieces, but on days youâre feeling a bit more relaxed or not as girly, youâd have coloured stones, even spiders or plain hoops in them. Ever since he started dating you, heâd learned that you cared for your piercings meticulously. Once a week, usually every Sunday, youâd take out all the jewelry and take a shower, paying special attention to your ears, and then youâd use piercing floss to clean out each one. He didnât even know piercing floss was a thing! But one day he asked if he could do it, just because he wanted to be part of the process, and eventually it became a routine. Every Sunday youâd take out all your jewelry, and he would help you clean each piercing and put it all back. He absolutely adored it when you asked him to pick a stack for you, or asked for help with closing one of the backings. Mostly because he got to touch you and he loved feeling needed, but also because this was so you. He knew your piercings reflected your entire personality, so he adored the thought of getting to choose how you dressed your piercings. And the BUTTERFLIES heâd get when you walked out wearing earrings he picked. Especially if he bought them for you! Ugh, this man is on his knees!! He thinks you're the coolest person ever to have customized your character without caring what other people thought. If anyone ever brings up anything about piercings around him, his first response is to refer them to you about which ones are painful, easily healing, or difficult. Mainly, he just wants a reason to bring you up, though.
