scatteredthoughtsproductions - Tumblr blog

scatteredthoughtsproductions · 5 months

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Wreck My Plans, That's My Man

A/N: listen. Look at me. Does this make sense? Is it technically logical? No. It's horny vibes only here, and I need you to roll with it. Anyways! This was all inspired by this beautiful piece of art, and then I was enabled and encouraged and basically wrote this whole thing in like 48 hours... Enjoy? NSFW warning!

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“Hey, Nes, have you seen—”

Cassian's voice trails off, and Nesta hears the distinct sound of keys jangling. She rolls her eyes fondly as she goes back to her book, burrowing deeper against the stack of pillows at her back. She doesn't look up, even as she listens to his boots against the hardwood coming closer, even as that familiar scent of smoke and pine washes over her, even as a sweet kiss is pressed to her hair.

Only when she's finished the page does she slide her bookmark into place and tilt her head back, meeting a pair of bright hazel eyes and a wide, soft smile meant only for her. Cassian is dressed in his usual all black show attire, ripped jeans clinging to his thighs and the low cut of his tank showing off the thick muscles of his arms, the wide breadth of his shoulders and chest, the lines of black ink winding across his golden skin.

“I left your pass on the hook by the door,” Cassian explains, scraping his hair back and out of his face before securing it with a hair-tie. “Are you thinking you'll drive? I can make sure they open the lot for you.”

“No, I'll just get an Uber, and then drive home with you after.”

“Perfect.”

Cassian leans down, slotting their lips together, and Nesta practically melts against him, sighing into the kiss. Too soon, he's pulling away, stealing one last peck to her lips before murmuring his goodbyes and heading for the door. Nesta slumps back against the pillows, closing her eyes and giving herself just one more moment. With a soft sigh, she tosses the blanket off her legs and heaves herself up, padding down the hall to their bedroom to shower and start getting ready.

Nesta’s phone dings where it’s sitting on her vanity, letting her know that her Uber driver is approaching. She takes a moment to straighten out her skirt, to tug up the strap of her lacy, red top. She grabs her phone and her purse, rushing toward the front door. Thankfully, her pass really is right where Cassian left it, and it’s easy enough to toss it on, easy enough to tug on her shoes and her leather jacket, zipping it up to fight off the late October chill.

There’s more traffic than Nesta anticipates, and by the time her Uber driver is dropping her off in front of the venue, they’ve already opened the doors, the queue shuffling forward and people moving about the sidewalk with excitement. It still blows Nesta’s mind seeing the way the queue stretches all the way down the block and around the corner, seeing all these people in tour shirts and with wide grins, all to see the Bat Boys.

“Excuse me,” Nesta says to one of the venue workers directing people. “Which way is the stage door?”

The worker turns his attention to her fully, not even hiding the way he sweeps his eyes over her. When his gaze raises to her eyes again, his face is unimpressed, and he lets out a near derisive snort. “Nice try. Keep dreaming those Wattpad dreams.”

Nesta doesn’t bother biting back her scowl or her eyeroll, practically glaring daggers at the worker as he turns away.

“Guess I’ll find it myself,” she mutters to herself, weaving her way toward the side of the venue building.

“Oh my gosh! Imagine if Cassian points right at you tonight!”

The words give Nesta pause, and she turns to find a couple of girls in the queue. They have their hair and makeup done up, one clad jeans and the other in a short, leather skirt. And both of them have handmade, matching tees declaring ‘Cassian’s Future Wife.’

It had started as a bit. Cassian had informed Nesta that he would be dedicating a song to her on their last tour, a sweet more acoustic number he had penned himself, but when he introduced it to the crowd, he’d instead declared it was for his future wife. Nesta had been pink the entire rest of the night, cheeks and ears burning, but the reaction only seemed to spur Cassian on until he was making the same announcement every night, every show where she was in the audience.

“Imagine if he pulls me out of the crowd and invites me back to his place after the show,” the girl in the skirt offers to her friend.

“Once he sees you, he totally would.”

“I bet he’s amazing in bed too. He’d rock my world, and then I’d be like no need to look any further. You found your future wife.”

The girls laugh and practically squeal in agreement, but Nesta has to swallow down a scoff. She doesn’t know why the conversation scrapes across her skin, why it grates against her nerves. She knows that Cassian and his brothers have a large female following for their band. She knows that she’s the one who asked to keep their relationship more private. She knows that it’s their bed he comes home to each night, that she’s the one he wakes with soft kisses and quiet good mornings, that she gets the ‘I love you’s and the smiles just for her.

But there’s no denying the anger that starts to lick through Nesta’s veins, fire crackling and flaring beneath her skin. There’s no denying the annoyance that twists through her stomach, tightening like vines in her chest. It takes everything within her to bite her tongue around the words she wants to sneer, instead shouldering past the girls and through the crowds to continue her trek toward the side of the building.

When she reaches the back of the building, she spots Cassian's truck in the lot. The pair of stagehands smoking and the big, burly security guard standing near an otherwise nondescript metal door let her know she's found what she's looking for. She unzips her jacket enough that she can pull free her pass, flashing it, but rather than letting her in, the security guard holds out his arm to stop her. His eyes narrow suspiciously, sweeping over her and squinting at her pass.

It has Nesta's anger burning into full-blown rage, into a living, writhing thing that digs its claws into her chest and begs to be released. Her boyfriend is in there. Her boyfriend. And she won't have these people looking at her like she's just some groupie. Won't have these girls thinking they're going home with Cassian.

She's about to give in to the fire, to give in to the cool words poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, when the stage door swings open. Nesta just barely steps back in time before Balthazar goes barreling into her, and she watches as the photographer all but runs to where his SUV is parked, rooting around in his back seat. He jogs back toward the door, pausing when he realizes who's standing there.

“Hey, Nesta,” Balthazar greets with an easy grin, holding up the small case now in his hands. “Need a new SD card already.”

“You know her?” the security guard asks.

Balthazar lets out a quiet laugh. “Seriously?”

He doesn't say anything more, merely shakes his head and vanishes back inside, but at least it's enough to have the security guard look sheepish. At least, he holds the door open and finally allows Nesta to step inside. The steady thrum of bass and drums pulses beneath Nesta's feet, a raspy, feminine voice floating on the air to her, and she knows that the supporting act has already gone on and started the show.

With determined steps, Nesta weaves her way around stagehands and equipment, making her way toward the back of the stage. She slips behind the black curtain splitting the stage in two and hiding the Bat Boys' setup until it's their time, finding Cassian right where she expects him: sitting at his drum kit, casually twirling a drumstick between his fingers while he nods along to the band playing in front of the curtain. Nesta doesn't know if he hears or if he's just always able to sense where she is in a room, but his eyes snap to hers in an instant, that slow, soft grin tugging its way across his face.

“I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up,” Cassian teases lightly when she's close enough.

“I just had to deal with a bunch of shit,” Nesta grumbles, dropping her purse to the ground.

Because she can, she tosses her leg over Cassian's own, straddling his hips. The seat is small but she makes it work, pressing close to him and looping her arms across his shoulders. Cassian's own hands find her hips with ease, holding her steady.

“What kind of shit?”

“Just stupid people.”

Cassian hums, dropping his head so his forehead rests against her collarbones, his thumbs tracing soothing circles against her hip bones. “At least you're here now.”

Nesta hums her own agreement, trying to let the feel of him pressed against her soothe her still sparking nerves. She reaches a hand up, tugging free the hair-tie from Cassian's hair and slipping it onto her wrist for safe keeping. She runs her fingers through the dark, curly strands, scraping her nails against his scalp in the way she knows he loves.

“I had to deal with getting past your little fan club,” Nesta continues, pressing a bit harder with her nails until she feels Cassian sigh against her.

“What can I say? I'm an expert at stealing hearts,” Cassian offers, his voice muffled against her skin, as his hands slide down to the backs of her thighs, teasing just beneath the hem of her skirt.

“There's even a group of girls in the audience with shirts that say 'Cassian's future wife.'”

Cassian pulls his head back, his eyes practically glinting even in the low light of this part of the stage. “Are there?”

Nesta yanks hard on his hair, tugging his head back enough that his entire throat is on display for her. It gives her the perfect view for the way he swallows hard, the way his eyelashes flutter around his darkening hazel eyes.

“But they don't stand a chance, do they?” Nesta snaps, her tone cold and demanding.

Cassian's already shaking his head despite her grip, his expression dazed, before she even finishes speaking. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. No one compares to you.”

“Because you're all mine, aren't you?”

“All yours,” Cassian groans, his hips bucking up against her own, pressing his growing hardness against her ass. “Fuck, you're so hot, baby.”

“And you're going to prove it.” It's a statement, not a question, nor a request, and Nesta grinds and circles her hips down against him, chasing the friction, the heat already building between her thighs.

Cassian's hands tighten, sliding further up until he's grasping her ass fully beneath her skirt. “I'll do whatever you want me to.”

“That's what I like to hear,” Nesta tells him, dragging her nail down his temple and cheek and relishing in the full body shudder that takes over Cassian's body. “You're going to touch me, make me come, and then I'm going to fuck you until I'm the only thing you'll think about for the rest of the night, until no other woman will be able to get close to you without smelling sex and my perfume all over you.”

“We only have forty minutes until the show.”

“Better hurry then.”

Rather than let Cassian say anything more, Nesta crashes her mouth against his, nipping and biting at his lips and pressing her tongue into his mouth. Cassian groans as he kisses her back just as hungrily, using his grip on her to move and rock their hips together. One of his hands reaches between them, sliding two fingers over her still clothed center, and Nesta has to pull back to gasp, her hips stuttering at the pressure.

“Fuck, I love how you're always so wet for me,” Cassian whispers against her lips, tracing a teasing circle across her clit. “Absolutely soaked, sweetheart.”

“Less talking, more following directions,” Nesta chastises, canting her hips more firmly against his hand. “We're on a time limit, remember?”

Cassian hums his agreement, slotting their lips back together. At the same moment, he tugs her panties to the side, wasting no time and sinking two fingers inside her. Nesta practically whimpers into his mouth at the stretch, a sound Cassian greedily swallows. He holds his fingers still, and Nesta clenches down around them, hoping to encourage him to move.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, trying to shift her hips against him.

But Cassian uses his free hand to hold her firmly in place, to hold her still against him. He slowly pulls his fingers out, dragging against her walls, before pressing them deep again, just as slow.

“You're just as much mine, you know,” Cassian breathes hotly, repeating the same motion. “You think I don't see every guy and girl staring at you every time we go out?”

“I don't even notice them,” Nesta promises, sliding her hands down to Cassian's shoulders and digging her nails into the skin there. “Besides, at least none of them think they're going to be my future spouse.”

“I bet they want to be.”

“I bet they want to see what I look like when I come too. Maybe, I should ask them to help me instead, since you'd clearly rather take your sweet time.”

Cassian growls, curling his fingers, and Nesta knows that she's won. He starts to work his fingers in earnest, pressing in deep and hard the way he knows she loves. When his thumb joins in, pressing at her clit in tandem, Nesta slumps forward against him. She drops her forehead to his shoulder and bites hard at her bottom lip to quiet the moans and whimpers threatening to spill from her throat. Already, her blood sings, pleasure firing from her every nerve ending, and it's all focused where Cassian's fingers sink into her over and over again.

“Is this what you want, Nes?” He whispers right against her ear. “Is this how I prove it to you?”

“Yes. Fuck, don't stop,” Nesta gasps, turning her head enough that she can dig her teeth into his pulse point, sucking the skin between her lips until she's sure she left a mark.

Cassian's fingers stutter for a moment, and Nesta feels more than she hears the groan trapped in his throat. But since the moment she met him, Cassian has never backed down from a challenge, never allowed himself to be out done. And Nesta has never been more thankful. He squeezes in a third finger, curling all three and pressing against her clit, Nesta's whole body lighting up at the sensation.

He plays her body the way nobody else can, the way that only comes from learning each other's bodies over the years. Every slide, every curl, every press of his fingers sends Nesta cresting higher and higher. Heat pools low in her gut, her whole body tightening and pulling taut as her cunt flutters around Cassian's fingers.

“Come for me, baby. I can feel you're close. Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

The praise is all Nesta needs to go crashing head first through her orgasm. She bites at Cassian's shoulder to keep quiet, clenching hard and practically shaking against him. Cassian continues to work her through it, his fingers unrelenting and dragging her orgasm out.

Only when Nesta reaches down and squeezes his wrist, the overstimulation too much, does Cassian slip his fingers free. He brings his hand up to his face, sticking his tongue out and lapping at the pads of his fingers with a soft groan. Nesta is quick to grab his wrist, guiding his hand closer and sucking his fingers into her own mouth. She keeps her eyes on his, not breaking eye contact as she slowly glides and swirls her tongue over each digit.

“Fuck,” Cassian mutters, his hips bucking up as if of their own accord.

The movement reminds Nesta of what's still to come, of the hard length practically waiting for her. It has her blood heating again already, has her feeling empty and clenching around nothing. She pulls her mouth away with a quiet pop, reaching her hands eagerly toward his belt.

“I need you,” Nesta whines, all but yanking the button open and tugging Cassian's jeans and boxers down enough that she can free his cock.

She fists it tightly in her grip, squeezing at the base before sliding her hand up and down, spreading the precum already weeping from the tip. It takes some awkward maneuvering on the too small seat, but Nesta is able to raise herself up enough that she can line him up with her entrance, that she can sink down. No matter how many times they do this, Nesta doesn't think she'll ever get used to the feel of him, the stretch. There's no biting back her moan once he's finally seated to the hilt.

“Mother, save me,” Cassian groans, clearly just as affected. “You take me so well, baby. Nothing feels like you.”

“That's right,” Nesta tells him, clenching around him. “No other cunt will ever squeeze you like this.”

“Good.” Cassian buries a hand in her hair and kisses her hard, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. “Because no other cock can fill you like mine can.”

Despite Nesta's words earlier, her promise to fuck him until she's all he thinks about, it's Cassian that takes control. His hands grip her hips, guiding her up and down his cock, while he uses his planted feet to thrust up into her hard and fast. Nesta loves it. She loves the way he presses deep with every slap of their hips together. She loves the way she knows she'll have bruises for days across her hip bones.

She buries her hands in Cassian's hair and slams their mouths back together, breathing every moan and whimper past his lips and swallowing his every answering groan. Every snap of his hips, every drag of his cock has Nesta's toes curling in her shoes. Her cunt flutters and clenches around him, desperate to pull him in deeper, to keep him here right where he belongs, keeping her full and stretched.

She knows Cassian is close from the way his hips start to stutter, so she drops a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with ease and working it in time with their movements. It's almost too much. The sensation and feel of their bodies coming together. The sight of Cassian with a flush clinging to his cheeks, with his hazel eyes nearly swallowed whole by his blown out pupils, with his hair a mess from her fingers. He's beautiful and he's hers, and she can feel herself teetering closer and closer to that ledge.

“Come on, Nes,” Cassian pants, pressing their forehead together. “Ladies first. Want to feel you squeezing me. Want to be drenched with you. Come all over my cock.”

Like a marionette on his strings, Nesta's body gives in to his request. She comes hard enough that spots dance in her vision, and she just barely has the foresight to press her free hand to her mouth, biting into her palm to quiet her shout.

Cassian's hips are unrelenting as he chases his own high, as is his still rambling mouth. “That's my good girl. That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.”

A few more thrusts, and Cassian buries his face against Nesta's shoulder and groans her name. He practically shakes as he finds his own release, hips still moving shallowly as he spills inside her.

Nesta slumps forward against his chest with a blissful sigh, her body wrung out in the best way. Cassian's arms curl tight around her, holding her close to him, and he turns his head enough that he can press a kiss into her hair.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Cassian murmurs against her hair. “You should get jealous over crazy fangirls more often.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the comment, nipping at his skin in retaliation. She sits up enough that she can reach over and grab her discarded purse on the floor, rooting around until she finds the tube of lipstick buried there. She makes quick work swiping the bright red color across her lips, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Cassian's chest, right above the neckline of his tank, right above his heart.

She tilts her head and hums appreciatively, admiring her work, but then Cassian's hands are sliding along her jaw, cradling her face and pulling her into a deep, languid kiss. When they break apart, his mouth is smeared with red. Nesta drags her thumb across his lips to try and help, but it only seems to make it worse, only seems to further emphasize the swollen and kiss-bitten state of them.

“Sorry,” Nesta offers with a wince. “We seem to have made a mess.”

“Good,” Cassian tells her, not even bothering to bite back his smirk.

“You are insufferable.”

“Says the woman still sitting on my cock.”

Nesta scoffs, but she shifts off his lap and to her feet, keeping her thighs pressed tightly together until they can get to the bathroom and clean up properly. It's a slow and awkward walk, especially with Cassian all but plastered along her back, unable to let her go just yet.

When they step out of the bathroom, his brothers are already there and waiting. Between the disheveled state of Cassian's hair and clothes, the lipstick stains and nail marks on his skin, and his wide, shit eating grin, there's no mistaking what happened. Nesta awkwardly clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair that came loose back behind her ear.

“I don't even want to know,” Rhysand mutters. “But we're on, so let's go.”

Cassian leans down, pressing one last kiss to Nesta's cheek. “Stay backstage tonight.”

Nesta frowns at the strange request. She and Feyre always claim one of the balcony boxes for their shows. “Why?”

“Just stay backstage,” is all Cassian offers as he backs away toward the stage lights, toward the screaming fans beyond.

A wink in her direction and he spins around, jogging the rest of the way onto the stage. Nesta can do nothing but continue to frown in confusion, nothing but watch as Cassian and his brothers play the opening song of their set. Only when there's a quiet, surprised laugh from her left does Nesta finally pull her attention away, finding Feyre now standing beside her. At Nesta's questioning look, Feyre holds out her phone, showing off the tweet she has pulled up. It's a photo, clearly taken from the audience, zoomed in and cropped so it shows Cassian behind his drum kit.

To whoever fucked this man's brains out before the concert, I want to say thank you for this look, but also I wish that was ME!!!

The replies to the tweet aren't much better, and already Nesta can feel heat creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks.

Hate to see someone else living MY dream

Someone get the FBI on the phone to analyze and find the owner of that lipstick mark! Whose lips are those?

Wordlessly, Nesta hands Feyre's phone back to her, keeping her focus on the stage, on the Bat Boys as they continue their set. It's not long before Nesta knows what song is coming next, her eyes automatically snapping to Cassian's in anticipation, but for once, he pulls his microphone free from its stand and stands up, stepping out from behind his drum kit.

“Velaris, how are we doing tonight?” Cassian greets, earning an echo of screams in response. “Now, you may not know this, but this venue holds a very special place in my heart. You see, a few years back we played here, opening for a little band you might know called The Band of Exiles.”

More screams from the audience at that mention. It has Nesta shaking her head fondly. She still remembers that night, remembers Feyre dragging her and Elain along to see her old school friend's Lucien's band. One night and now all three of them are with musicians. Nesta is sure if their mother was still alive, she'd hate it.

“Great show,” Rhysand comments idly into his own microphone.

“Great tour,” Cassian agrees with a nod. “But you see, what really made that night special was that there was someone in the audience. Someone I wrote this next song about. Someone who for once isn't in the audience but backstage.”

Cassian gestures with his arm to where Nesta's standing, and she can do nothing but stare in shock. She feels like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide and jaw slackened, as Cassian gestures for her with his head. A hard shove in the back from Feyre has Nesta stumbling forward out onto the stage and bright lights.

“What are you doing?” Nesta seethes quietly, walking over to Cassian awkwardly.

“Just remember, Nes,” Cassian tells her, holding a hand over his microphone so it won't pick up their voices. “If you kill me, you'd miss me too much.”

“Cassian.”

“Nesta, I love you so much, it clearly makes me stupid,” Cassian begins, speaking into his microphone again. “It makes me want to shout it from the rooftops, but I suppose this is the next best thing. Since the day that I met you, I knew that you were it for me, that you were going to be my future wife, but what do you say we make it official?” There's no stopping Nesta's gasp as Cassian drops to one knee. “Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?”

In that moment, everything else fades away, the stage, the band, the lights, the crowd. All there is Cassian. Cassian with his bright hazel eyes and his warm, easy laugh. Cassian with his teasing remarks and a fire to twine and match with her own. Cassian with his quiet comfort and the strength and safety in his embrace. Cassian who looked at her nicked and bruised heart and told her it was perfect. Cassian who carved out a place in his chest for her just as surely as she did for him.

“Yes,” Nesta somehow pushes out around the emotions clogging her throat, around the tears prickling in her eyes.

Cassian's answering grin is radiant. He slides the ring onto Nesta's finger, jumping to his feet and pulling her into a kiss. The crowd erupting into loud cheers around them pulls Nesta firmly back to the present. She tries to slip away backstage again, but Cassian catches her hand in his, tugging her to his drum kit and onto his lap, her back pressed firmly to his chest.

“This next song,” Cassian announces into his microphone, picking up his drumsticks again. “Is dedicated to my wife!”

Thankfully, Nesta is able to scurry away after the song. She's pulled into a bone crushing hug by Feyre as soon as she steps backstage, a squealing Elain on FaceTime from whatever city she and Lucien are in today. Various members of the crew offer their own congratulations, Balthazar promising he got some great photos of the whole thing, and Nesta thanks them all quietly. Her heart still pounds between her ribs, the anxiety of being on the stage still swirling in her gut, but as she looks at the ring now glinting on her finger, there’s no fighting the smile that tugs up her lips. No denying the happiness bubbling within her at the future now before her. No denying the warmth that blooms in her chest, tying as securely around her heart as a golden thread.

Nesta lets out a squeal of surprise when strong arms wrapped around her waist suddenly, spinning her around and walking her back until her back is pressed against the wall. Cassian’s eyes are especially bright, sweat still clinging to his face and his skin from their set, further smearing the lipstick stains she left on him.

“Hello, wife,” Cassian greets with a wide grin, caging her in and leaning down and brushing his nose against hers.

“You know just because you proposed, that doesn't actually mean we're married yet.”

“Semantics.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, even as she slips her own arms around Cassian’s waist, keeping him pressed close. “And how long have you been planning this?”

“Like a month? Maybe two?” Cassian offers, shrugging easily.

“And yet you didn't want to stop me when I was being mean earlier?”

“I love it when you're mean,” Cassian tells her, his hands reaching up between them to cradle her jaw. He tilts her face up to him, kissing her sweetly. “I can’t wait for you to be mean to me for the rest of our lives.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy

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scatteredthoughtsproductions · 5 months

Note

Kinktober time: semi public sex for nessian

this is 5 million years late but happy kinktober 2023 my fellow freaks 😏😏 feel free to send in more prompts I’ll be here all month!

TW: smut, pool sex, dirty talk, name calling, degradation

“Cassian,” Nesta panted, her body trembling under Cassian’s touch. “Cassian, someone’s going to see us—”

“Everyone’s asleep, sweetheart,” Cassian replied from where he was standing behind her. He was so hard his dick was practically throbbing, and the way his girlfriend was rocking back and forth against him wasn’t exactly helping the situation. “The only way we’re getting caught is if you can’t stay quiet.”

Cassian and Nesta had gotten roped into their friends’ annual couples trip as per usual, and they were making the most of the empty pool and warm weather. Everyone else had gone to bed over an hour ago, so when Nesta hadn’t been able to sleep, Cassian had suggested a late night swim to help her relax a little.

If only she hadn’t looked so good in that tiny string bikini.

It had only taken a few minutes for Cassian to crowd Nesta against the edge of the pool, spin her around, and shove a hand between her legs. She’d gasped and hissed at him to stop fucking around, but it certainly hadn’t stopped her from spreading her legs wider for him.

“God, I hate you,” Nesta moaned, leaning forward to brace herself against the pool wall as Cassian sped up his pace. “So much.”

Cassian just chuckled lowly and slipped a hand under her bikini top, rolling a hard nipple between his fingers with one hand while he rubbed circles into her clit with the other. “Yeah, it really seems like it.”

“Fuck you,” she gasped.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he replied, leaning down to press a series of wet kisses to the side of her neck. “Right where anyone could see you begging for my dick like the little slut you are.”

Bingo. Nesta tensed as she finally came, leaning forward into her folded arms and muffling her moans. Cassian didn’t stop until she shakily reached down and pulled at his arm, silently telling him that she’d reached the point of oversensitivity.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Cassian said. He moved the arm that had been between her legs so he could give her a little break. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I think I have an idea,” Nesta said back, raising her head so she could turn and look over her shoulder at him. She smirked and ground back hard onto him, reminding him of how badly he wanted her. “Unless that’s something else in your pants.”

“Just me,” he replied with a smirk of his own. He rocked his hips forward in a promise of what was to come before he stepped away from her altogether, motioning for her to follow him. “Come on.”

She frowned but followed him through the water anyway. “Where are we going?”

“You didn’t think we’d actually fuck in the water, did you?” he answered, stopping and turning to look at her with both eyebrows raised. “Come on, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but even you can use your brain.”

Just like Cassian knew would happen, Nesta’s face went a pretty shade of pink. She could run circles around most people, but she not-so-secretly loved when he called her names and acted like she was too horny to think straight.

Cassian smirked and turned back around, continuing his path to the pool steps. He walked almost completely out of the pool and settled on the highest step so the water just barely touched his thighs, leaning back on his heads and spreading his legs with an expectant look in Nesta’s direction. She hurried over and settled between his legs, making quick work of the minimal clothes between them so she could straddle him and sink down on his cock.

“Fuck,” Cassian groaned, digging his nails into his thigh so he wouldn’t come right there. Nesta was hot and tight and perfect around him, and even after two years he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feel of her squeezing his cock for everything it was worth. “Fuck, that’s it. Put on a show for me.”

Nesta steadied herself on Cassian’s shoulders, her slow start eventually giving way to a steady rhythm that felt like heaven. She looked so gorgeous under the moonlight that he couldn’t help but pull her in close for a kiss, messy and open-mouthed and perfect. When he reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass, she moaned right into his mouth, and the knowledge that he was the one making her feel this good had him rearranging his hold on her so he could fuck her as hard as he dared.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begged as quietly as she could, burying her face into the side of his neck. She��d given up on trying to match his pace, more than happy to let him lift her up and down on his dick as hard and fast as he wanted, and the sounds of her moaning right into his ear was the greatest thing he’d ever heard. “God, Cassian…”

“Yeah,” he groaned, starting to drown in how good she felt around him. They were slapping together so loudly it was a miracle nobody had woken up yet, and the thrill of getting caught only grew with every thrust. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Yours, I’m yours,” she panted. She shifted her arms so she could dig her nails into his back, and the sharp pain brought him that much closer to the edge. “Always.”

“That’s right,” he growled, their rhythm getting a little off-pace as his orgasm started building low in his stomach. “This perfect pussy is mine.”

Nesta gasped and grazed her teeth against the side of Cassian’s neck, and that tiny jolt of pain was enough to finish him off. He yanked her hips flush to his as he came, digging his hands into her skin as he held on for dear life. She clenched around him to milk every last drop out of him, and he nearly bit his tongue off trying to stop himself from shouting at how good it felt.

When he came back down to Earth, Cassian couldn’t help but pull back just enough to study Nesta, who looked the very definition of thoroughly fucked. At some point her hair had slipped out of the loose braid she put it in to sleep, her cheeks were flushed from all the physical exertion, and her tiny bikini top had given out from how hard he’d fucked her. Her eyes looked silver in the moonlight and they were completely focused on him, a little wide from what they’d just done, but no less full of adoration just for him.

God, he loved her.

“Come on,” Cassian said once he could form a coherent sentence, managing to stand without dropping Nesta. He knew how much she loved random displays of his strength, and judging from the way her breath caught, he knew this one had hit its mark. “We need to get cleaned up.”

“If that’s your way of saying round two will be in the shower,” Nesta said back, laughing softly, “then I accept.”

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