Elvie
Cassian had given me an orgasm three times right on the kitchen counter. Three fucking times.
He had fucked me over the edge until I was totally helpless before him. It felt so good letting him ruin me like that. Every single day revealed a whole new, darker side of him. I mean, who would have thought he’d pour red wine all over my bare skin and taste every single drop like I was his own personal drink? I knew I was the one who teased him into it, but I never expected him to be so terrifyingly perfect at it.
Now, standing under the hot spray of the shower, I smoothed the scented soap over my body. The white suds mixed with the, sticky traces of wine still lingering on my skin. By the time he finally let me go back to my room, my legs were shaking so bad they felt like complete jelly.
I rubbed my hands gently over my breasts, wincing a little at how tender they felt. My mind kept flashing back to the way he had clamped his fingers around my nipples, sucking the breath right out of me while he told me when he knew me.
It was insane. He had known who I was since I was fifteen years old, back at Norman household.
I washed the rest of the soap down the drain, resting my forehead against the cool shower tile for a second. Try as I might, I couldn’t remember ever seeing his face during those five years. Only one specific afternoon when I was rushing out the door to meet Asher. I had been in such a crazy hurry that I bumped right into someone in the hallway. I hadn’t even bothered to look up to see who it was back then. That could be him.
And the fact that he specifically picked out my profile when I applied for this job meant my being here wasn’t just some lucky coincidence. I was living in this massive house because Cassian Reed actually wanted me here.
I turned off the faucet and wrapped a fluffy towel tight around my body. Stepping out into the cool air of my bedroom, I slipped into a comfortable cotton nightie and hopped straight into bed, pulling the soft duvet up to my chest.
I picked it up and quickly typed out a reply to Gemma, who was sending me a string of ridiculous, teasing texts. After hitting send, a sudden thought popped into my head.
I hadn’t really thought about doing this before, but my fingers were already moving across the screen. I opened up the browser, tapped the search bar, and typed in: Cassian Reed.
Maybe I missed something. Maybe the internet had answers.
I hit search and waited. But as the page loaded, my eyebrows furrowed in complete confusion. Nothing.
There wasn’t a single news article, social media page, or public record about a "Cassian Reed."
My heart did a strange little flutter in my chest. Slowly, I deleted his name from the search box and typed in something else instead: Norman Reed.
Instantly, thousands of results flooded my screen. Article after article popped up detailing the massive Norman family empire, their business deals, their fortunes, and their corporate news. But as I scrolled through page after page, there was absolute silence about his brother. Not a single mention of Cassian anywhere.
I stared blankly at the glowing screen, my brain racing. Cassian seemed so entirely different from his brother. My mind instantly rewound to that conversation I overheard between him and Julian a while back, when they were talking about the family inheritance.
Could there be a deep, ugly reason why Asher’s father tried to stop Cassian from pushing over the disciplinary measure? Did whatever happened between them get way too personal?
And then there was the biggest question of all—the one name that still hung over my head. Victoria.
I let out a slow, heavy breath, setting my phone face-down on the nightstand. Cassian had given me answers tonight, but somehow, I felt like I was standing right on the edge of an even bigger secret.
**
I woke up early the next morning, my body still carrying a soft, dull ache from everything that happened on the kitchen counter last night.
After making my bed, I grabbed my cleaning supplies and started my daily routine, humming softly to a song under my breath. To be honest, Cassian’s house was always practically spotless, but cleaning was what I was hired to do, so I had to do it regardless.
I leaned over the center table in the living room, wiping down the glass, when a sudden, intoxicating scent hit my nose—fresh soap, woodsmoke, and a hint of warm cologne.
I lifted my head and looked toward the grand staircase.
Cassian was walking down the steps. His dark hair damp, a few stray droplets clinging to his forehead. He was wearing a white vest that hugged his muscular chest and broad shoulders tight, making his biceps look ridiculously big, paired with loose gray sweatpants.
Damn. My knees literally felt weak right then and there. How could one man be so ridiculously, unfairly handsome?
As he hit the bottom stair, he pulled a small black hairbrush resting behind his ear and ran it through his damp hair. The casual confidence in that tiny gesture made my throat go completely dry. I had to swallow hard just to regain my composure.
Panicking slightly that he’d catch me staring like a creep, I quickly looked away, flushing bright red. I pretended to be deeply engrossed in assessing the corner of the table, frantically looking around for somewhere—anywhere—else to wipe.
Before I could move an inch or even pretend to scrub another surface, a massive shadow fell right over me. Cassian’s arm snaked around my waist, pulling my back flush against his broad chest. He spun me around gently, cupping my jaw, and leaned down to press his lips against mine.
It was a slow kiss that lasted just a few delicious seconds, stealing whatever little air I had left in my lungs. He pulled back just enough to look down into my eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Good morning, little birdie," he murmured, his thumb lightly stroking my warm cheek. "Did you sleep well?"
"I slept fine," I managed to squeak out, my heart still doing frantic flips against my ribs as his thumb kept lazily trailing over my cheek.
He didn’t move an inch away. Instead, his eyes held mine with an amused glint. "What’s for breakfast today? You?"
The second the word left his mouth, my cheeks burned. Cassian’s smirk widened instantly into a full, wicked smile. Mortified, I lifted a hand and lightly slapped his chest, the solid muscle under his white vest barely even budging. "You’re a bad man."
He chuckled softly, a deep vibration I could feel straight through my palm. Leaning down until his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin of my ear, he lowered his voice to a dangerous, gravelly whisper.
"I don’t think I’m the only one who’s bad, little birdie," he murmured, his breath fanning over my skin and making a fresh shiver run all the way down my spine. "Because if I remember correctly, last night a certain someone was begging me to fuck her pussy, asking me to go deeper."
My legs literally went weak right then and there. Every single detail of last night flashed back into my mind, and I had to physically push against his chest to create some distance between us. If I stayed wrapped in his arms for another second, I knew I’d end up begging him to do the exact same thing to me all over again this morning.
"What do you actually want for breakfast?" I asked quickly, trying to sound stern and professional.
When I looked back up, my eyes widened at the way he was staring at me. He had a smug, knowing smirk plastered on his face, completely aware of what I had just said.
"I mean... what should I cook?" I stammered out, stumbling over my words as I gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. "You know... real food?"
Cassian reached up and casually ran his fingers through his damp dark hair, ruffling it back from his forehead. Damn it. The sudden, overwhelming urge to run my own fingers through those dark strands hit me so hard my palms actually twitched. This man was making my job ridiculously difficult.
"I just told you what I want," he said simply, his gaze locking back onto mine.
My brows furrowed in complete confusion as I blinked up at him. "What’s that?"
He stepped closer again, his smirk widening into something devastatingly handsome. "You."
"Cassian!" I gasped out, though I couldn’t stop the loud laugh from escaping my throat. "I’m being serious!"
A genuine, rare sound of laughter broke from his lips, making his whole chest expand. "Make whatever you want, little birdie," he said, his tone softening as he gave my hip a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I just finished up a new piece in the studio. I’ll show it to you later."
I stood there for a second, my hand pressed against my chest to calm the wild thumping of my heart, watching him head toward his studio. Even in loose sweatpants and a worn white vest, he moved with an effortless, predatory grace.
"You’re too gone Elvie," I muttered under my breath, a breathless smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I finally turned and walked into the kitchen.
I made a quick breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon. I plated the food and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, right on time Cassian walked back into the kitchen. He had swapped the vest for a fitted t-shirt, a faint smudge of dark charcoal dusting the side of his hand.
"Smells good, little birdie," he murmured, pulling out a stool at the kitchen island and taking a seat.
I set the plate and his mug down in front of him. We ate in a quiet atmosphere. When he was finally finished, he picked up a napkin and slowly wiped his lips, leaning back against his stool.
I rested my elbows on the counter and intertwined my hands on the marble table, staring straight at him.
"Can I ask you a question?" I asked.
Cassian took a slow, relaxed sip of his coffee, his eyes watching me over the rim of the cup. He set the mug down with a soft clink against the stone and nodded.
"Sure, little birdie. What’s up?" he said softly.
I held his gaze. "Who is Victoria?"