CHAPTER SIX

The city hummed beneath Savannah's penthouse, but all she could focus on was

the message glowing on her phone

> Velvet Halo tonight? I want you here. Just you and me. No business, no

bullshit. Say yes.

The memory of Cassian's hands on her, his mouth..... Damn, that mouth sent a

shiver through her. Without thinking, she texted back:

> On my way.

When she arrived at Velvet Halo, Cassian was already waiting, leaning

against the bar, his dark suit tailored

to sinful perfection. His eyes darkened the moment he saw her in that black dress that clung to her curves like it

was made for him to peel off.

"Fuck," he muttered, low enough that only she could hear. "You're going to

be the death of me."

Savannah smiled, heat already blooming between her thighs. "That's the

plan."

He didn't waste time. His hand slid along her lower back, possessive, as he guided her through the club

and into the private lounge upstairs.

The air upstairs was heavy with anticipation, the bass of the music below

barely reaching them. Cassian poured two glasses of whiskey, but Savannah

barely touched hers. The real intoxication was him, his scent, his voice, the

way his fingers traced lazy circles on her knee.

"Dance with me," he said.

On the floor, the world narrowed to the heat between their bodies. His thigh

pressed between hers, his hands played wide on her lower back. She could feel

the hard line of him through his pants, evidence of just how much he wanted her.

Their hips moved in sync, every shift of his body igniting her nerve

endings. His lips brushed her temple, then her jaw, his breath warm against her

skin.

"Savannah," he growled, voice thick. "I can't wait anymore."

Before she could reply, his mouth was on hers, hungry, claiming, no pretense

of restraint. His tongue teased hers, coaxed it, demanded it. His hand slid

down, cupping her ass, pulling her against him.

She moaned into the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair, nails grazing his

scalp as he deepened the kiss, as if he could devour her right there on the

dance floor.

Later, when they reached her penthouse, the hunger between them exploded.

Cassian had her pinned against the door before it even shut, his mouth on

her neck, tongue tracing the line of her pulse.

"Tell me to stop," he rasped against her skin, but they both knew she

wouldn't.

Her hands worked at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then fumbled

at his buttons, desperate to feel him. He groaned as she slipped her hands

inside, nails scraping lightly down his chest.

Their clothes discarded piece by piece as they stumbled toward the bedroom.

His shirt hit the floor, and Savannah froze, eyes catching on the dark tattoo

on his shoulder, the strange symbol she'd glimpsed at the club.

But before she could speak, his hands were on her again, sliding under her

dress, lifting it over her head

"Savannah," he breathed, taking in the sight of her, bare skin glowing in

the low light, lace barely concealing her curves.

His mouth was everywhere, her throat, her breasts, the hollow beneath her

collarbone. He took his time, but every touch was deliberate to make her

tremble.

He sank to his knees, lips trailing down her stomach, fingers hooking the

waistband of her panties and sliding them down slowly, kissing the inside of

her thighs as he went.

"Cassian" she gasped, but the rest of her words dissolved as his mouth found

her entrance.

His tongue moved with precision, tasting, teasing, driving her closer to the

edge with every stroke. One of his hands gripped her hip, the other slid up,

fingers finding her breast, thumb circling her nipple until she arched against

him, lost to everything but the pleasure he gave her.

When she came, it was with his name on her lips, body trembling and fingers

buried in his hair.

But he wasn't done.

He rose, eyes dark with need, shedding the last of his clothes as she

watched, breathless. He was all lean muscle and raw want, the tattoo on his

shoulder catching the light just enough to make her heart pound harder, not

just from desire, but from the questions it stirred.

He paused, searching her face. "Are you sure?"

Savannah didn't hesitate. "yes."

He thrust, slow at first, filling her inch by inch, groaning at the feel of

her. Their bodies moved together, finding that perfect rhythm, his name a

whispered prayer on her lips. His hands roamed her body like he was memorizing

every curve, every reaction.

They lost themselves in each other, the world outside forgotten.

After, they lay tangled in the sheets and their bodies drenched with sweat

But her eyes found the tattoo again.

Her fingers traced it lightly.

 "Cassian… this mark, what is it?"

For the briefest second, his face closed off, the softness gone.

"Old story. Doesn't matter tonight," he said, pulling her hand to his lips,

kissing her palm, trying to distract her.

But Savannah knew better. And this time, she wouldn't let the questions go

forever.