Chapter 4-

Chapter 4

Greyson's "shortcut" led them through parts of the city Cassie had never seen,narrow streets lined with converted warehouses, art galleries, and late-night coffee shops that glowed like beacons in the darkness. This wasn't the sanitized downtown where she worked or the upscale residential area where she lived. This was the real city, raw and vibrant and alive

They pulled into a parking lot beside a building that looked like it had been beautiful once red brick with intricate ironwork, tall windows that suggested spacious interiors. Now it wore the patina of age and weather, ivy climbing its walls like nature's attempt to reclaim urban space

"This is me,"

Greyson said, appearing beside her car as she cut the engine. The rain had soaked through his shirt, making the fabric cling to his shoulders and chest.

"I know it's not much to look at, but.."

"It's perfect,"

Cassie interrupted, and meant it. The building had character, history, something her sterile penthouse would never possess. When she stepped out of the car, the rain immediately began soaking through her dress, and she saw Greyson's eyes darken as he atched droplets trace down her throat.

They stood in the rain for a moment, both suddenly aware of what they were doing. The storm had turned her expensive dress into a second skin, and the way Greyson was looking at her like he wanted to devour her made heat pool low in her belly despite the cold rain

"We don't have to "

Greyson started, his voice strained.

"I know." She stepped closer, close enough to see his chest rising and falling with careful breaths.

" I want to. Greyson, I want to so badly it scares me. That's good because I'm doing what I know is right and what I deserve.

Her honesty seemed to break something loose in him. His hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing across her lower lip.

"Once we go upstairs..."

"I know what happens upstairs." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about it since the elevator. You've always kept your distance."

"I always want what I can't have. I've wanted you since my niece's birthday party... and not only then but whem you helped my sister out and you're still her biggest supporter. "

"Always . She's my bestie. "

" I'm her twin brother . "

"Yes and the guy I've fallen for ... Flaws and all."

The confession hung between them, raw and honest. Greyson's pupils dilated, and she could feel the tension radiating from his body like heat

"Fuck," he breathed, and then his mouth was on hers.

The kiss was desperate, months of careful politeness obliterated in an instant. Cassie moaned against his lips, her hands fisting in his wet shirt as he backed her against her car. The metal was cold against her back, but Greyson's body was furnace-hot against her front, and she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.

"Inside," she gasped when they broke apart. "Now."

The elevator ride to his apartment was torture. They stood on opposite sides, both breathing hard, the air between them crackling with sexual tension. Cassie's dress was still damp, clinging to her breasts and thighs, and she could see Greyson's hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he fought not to touch her.

"I should warn you," Greyson said as he fumbled with his keys, his hands not quite steady, "I wasn't expecting—"

"I don't care." She pressed against his back, her lips finding the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. He groaned, nearly dropping his keys.

His apartment was everything she'd expected and nothing like Marcus's sterile perfection. Exposed brick walls, soaring ceilings, windows overlooking the city lights. Books everywhere, a guitar in the corner, art that looked chosen for passion rather than investment. It was warm and lived-in and utterly him.

"It's perfect," she said, but she was looking at him, not the apartment.

"Cassie." Her name was a warning, a question, a plea.

"I'm tired of being perfect," she said, reaching for the hem of her dress. "I'm tired of being what everyone expects me to be."

She pulled the dress over her head in one fluid motion, letting it drop to the floor. She stood there in black lace lingerie that left little to the imagination, watching as Greyson's careful control finally snapped

"I loven all of you my ," he whispered, his eyes drinking her in. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He crossed to her in three quick strides, his hands settling on her waist, fingers splaying across bare skin. "Are you sure? Because once I touch you properly, I won't be able to stop."

"Then don't stop." She reached for his shirt, working the buttons with trembling fingers. "Don't you dare stop."

When her hands found bare skin, he groaned and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom. They fell onto his bed in a tangle of desperate limbs, hands everywhere, trying to touch and taste and claim all at once.

"I've wanted this," Greyson said against her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse point. " I've wanted you since that first day."

"Show me," she gasped, arching beneath him. "Show me how much."

He worshipped her body with his hands and mouth, finding places that made her cry out and arch and beg for more. His tongue traced patterns across her skin that had her writhing beneath him, her hands fisted in his hair as he worked his way down her body with agonizing slowness.

"Please," she gasped when his mouth found her inner thigh, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin. "Please, Greyson, I need."

"I know what you need," he murmured against her, his voice dark with promise. "Let me give it to you."

When his mouth finally found her center, she cried out so loudly she was grateful for the thick walls. He was relentless, using his tongue and lips and teeth until she was sobbing his name, her body trembling on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he commanded against her slick heat. "I want to feel you fall apart."

When her climax hit, it was with an intensity that left her gasping, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Before she could fully recover, he was kissing his way back up her body, positioning himself at her entrance.

"I don't have I wasn't planning."

"Nightstand," she managed, surprising them both. "I saw them when you brought me in here."

He reached over, tearing open the foil packet with shaking hands.

"Cassie, are you..."

"Yes." She pulled him down to her, claiming his mouth in a kiss that tasted like promises and destruction. "Yes, yes, yes."

When he finally moved inside her, they both groaned at the sensation. She was still sensitive from her first climax, and the feeling of him filling her completely was almost too much.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he breathed, his control hanging by a thread. "So perfect."

"Move," she commanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you to move."

When he began to thrust, it was with a rhythm that had her seeing stars. He angled his hips just right, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out with each stroke. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by their gasps and moans and breathless encouragements.

"Harder," she pleaded, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.

"yes, just like that."

He complied, his thrusts becoming more demanding, more possessive. She could feel another orgasm building, this one deeper and more intense than the first.

"Look at me," he commanded, his hand gripping her chin. "I want to see your face when you come."

She met his eyes, and the intensity she saw there sent her over the edge. Her second climax was even more powerful than the first, her body clenching around him as she cried out his name.

Greyson followed moments later, her name on his lips like a prayer as he buried his face in her neck.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, skin to skin, both breathing hard. Cassie traced lazy patterns on Greyson's chest, marveling at how different this felt from anything she'd experienced before. Her engagement ring caught the light from the city below, a stark reminder of the complexity of what they'd just done.

"I should feel guilty," she said quietly.

"Do you?" His fingers combed through her sex-mussed hair.

She took inventory of her feelings the satisfaction still humming through her body, the rightness of being in his arms, the way her heart felt fuller than it had in months.

"No. I feel... alive. Is that horrible?"

"It's honest."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "When's the last time you felt like this?"

"Never." The admission surprised her with its certainty. "I've never felt like this. Not with anyone."

"Good," he said, and there was possessiveness in his voice that made her shiver. "I want to be the only one who makes you feel this way."

"You are." She looked up at him, seeing her own wonder reflected in his eyes. "God, what are we doing?"

"Living," he said simply. "For once in your life, you're just living."

They talked quietly in the darkness, sharing stories and secrets, touching constantly—his hand in her hair, her fingers tracing his ribs, their legs tangled together. It felt natural, comfortable in a way that surprised them both.

"I have to ask," Greyson said during a lull in conversation, "how long has it been since you felt... satisfied?"

Cassie blushed, grateful for the darkness.

"With Jake, you mean?"

"With anyone."

She was quiet for so long he thought she might not answer.

"We have sex twice a week," she finally said. "Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings. Jake treats it like a workout routine. Three positions, twelve minutes average, very... systematic. It's like a chore for him . I have to take out my toy collection and each toy even after fucking serves its purpose."

"Systematic."

His voice was flat with disbelief and anger.

"Cassie. You're not a fucking checklist."

"He has a schedule. We both do. It works." But even as she said it, the words felt hollow after what they'd just shared.

"And do you... do you come?

The question was asked gently, but she felt heat flood her cheeks anyway.

"Sometimes. Usually I just... I fake it. It's easier. "

"Cassie." His voice was pained. "You shouldn't have to fake anything."

"I know that now." She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent.

"You've ruined me, you know. I'll never be able to go back to efficient sex after this. "

"Good," he said fiercely.

"You deserve to feel incredible every single time. It's more of a spiritual, emotional,and physical experience with you. The wait was worth it ."

" Really?"

" Yes . A million times yes . " Cassie started tracing a scar just above his collar bone."

"What happened?" He didn't flinch but surrendered to her touch.

" Wrong place and a fight."

" Tell me more? "

" I promise. Love you."

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand—a text from Jake: *Hope you got home safely. Love you.*

The guilt hit her like a physical blow. She stared at the words, feeling the weight of what she'd done settle on her chest.

"I have to go," she whispered. Love you too."

"I know." .But his arms tightened around her.

"This can't happen again." She said it without conviction, and they both knew it.

"It will," Greyson said quietly. "We both know it will."

She wanted to argue, but she couldn't. Not when her body was already responding to his proximity again, not when the thought of never feeling this way again made her chest tight with panic.

"What are we doing?" she asked again.

"Changing everything," he said, and kissed her until she forgot why that should terrify her.

They made love again, slower this time but no less intense. Greyson took his time, using his mouth and hands to drive her to the edge over and over before finally giving her release. By the time he moved inside her again, she was trembling and desperate, her body hypersensitive to his every touch.

"I love the sounds you make," he whispered against her ear as he moved inside her with deep, measured strokes. "The way you say my name when you're about to come."

She responded by moaning his name exactly as he described, her body clenching around him as another wave of pleasure washed over her. This time, when she came, she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cry, tasting salt and skin and him.