Chapter 2

Cassia’s POV

I straightened my body con, short dress that I had changed into. I took a deep breath and walked towards the club. I checked in at the door and the security let me in.

The dim lights of the club blurred as I stumbled inside, I needed a place to let go of the pain and betrayal burning inside of me. It hurt even though I refused to acknowledge it.

My heels clicked against the hardwood as I staggered in; my face still had the dried streaks of tears. This place smelled of whiskey, cigarette smoke, and commodities I couldn’t simply place — perhaps remorse.

I didn’t belong in my pack but this place didn't discriminate.

Sliding onto a barstool, I dropped my bag on the counter with a dull thud. I took a glance at the girls dancing on the poles. Before I returned my gaze forward.

"Whiskey," I murmured to the bartender.

" Neat?" he asked, giving me a small look.

" Strong," I corrected.

He pushed it to me, and I grabbed it and took a gulp emptying the whole glass. The alcohol burned my chest and throat.

The impassive feeling it gave me was exactly what I needed at the moment and I loved it.

I was up for anything that would dull the pain and betrayal clawing at my insides.

The weight of everything that had happened this evening sat heavily on my shoulders, pressing me down, making me want to cry again. But instead I gulped down another glass, then another.

The glass was empty too soon, and I gestured the bartender over for another.

Bad idea.

I shouldn't have.

The room moved slightly, the edges of my vision blurring. My stomach twisted in warning, and my eyes spun in my head.

I raised the glass for another drink, but my fingers quivered. My head swam, and I knew I was on the edge of disaster. Of ruining myself.

I was drunk.

That was when I saw him.

Not just seeing him — I felt him.

His presence was a force. A glamorous pull. A shift in the air around me. Something that no one could ignore, he had the kind of presence that made heads turn.

I turned my head, and my breath hitched.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp jawline. Black hair with patches of gray. Piercing grey eyes that studied me with a blend of fun and concern. His entire face was covered by a mask.

He looked like he belonged to another world — a world of luxury, power, and control. And yet, there he was, standing before me like fate had placed him there to be my savior just as I was about to shatter.

Bike rose to my throat and I knew I was about to throw up.

My stomach lurched. My head swam." I think — I think I am gonna —" I mumbled to myself.

I ran outside immediately.

But before I could reach a hidden location, my body betrayed me, tilting forward.

But he caught me.

His arms were strong, warm, steady — wrapped around my midriff, keeping me upright as my legs wobbled beneath me.

"Easy," he muttered, his voice deep and smooth."You’ve been taking too much of those."

I let out a shaky laugh. "Nope, I want more."

His lips quirked." Is that so?"

I didn’t know what made me look at him the way I did. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was the way his fingers tensed just slightly around my midriff, teasing me. Or perhaps I was just tired of feeling empty.

His eyes moved to my lips. My breath hitched and I could feel the air that had shifted between us thickening.

I should have pulled away. I should have thanked him for not letting me collapse on the ground like a pathetic mess; rather, I leaned in and kissed him.

And also he kissed me.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was hot, raw and demanding — like he could taste my pain and wanted to discard it.

A wail slipped from my lips, lost between his and he swallowed.

He pressed himself harder into me, and I felt his hot body; without thinking, I took a fistful of his shirt and drew him to me. As our lips collided again. Heat spread through me, burning down the pain I’d been going through all night.

"Come with me," he muttered against my lips.

I should have said no.

But I didn’t. I got in his car and he drove us to his place.

The elevator lift was a blur of hopeless kisses and wandering hands. My back hit the cool wall as he pressed into me, his mouth claiming mine like he couldn’t get enough. My fingers tangled in his hair, lugging, demanding further.

I gasped as he withdrew; my lips were now swollen, and I was breathing hard.

He let me breathe as he guided me down the hall, his grip hard and holding me in place. The moment the door shut behind us, his lips were on me again.

I slightly had time to take in my surroundings — high ceilings, dim lighting, beautiful cabinetwork before he lifted me off the ground.

Acting on their own will, my legs wrapped around his midriff as he carried me through the room like I weighed nothing.

He laid me down on a bed that smelled like him — clean, manly, intoxicating. His body followed, his weight stylishly pressing into me.

My dress was the first thing to go, the silky fabric pooling on the bottom. His hands floated my body, his lips teasing my breasts, my nipples, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You are beautiful," he muttered, his lips tracing my collarbone.

I arched beneath him, hopeless for another, hopeless to forget everything except the way he made me feel.

His mouth traveled lower, his lingo teasing, tasting, pushing me further into oblivion.

I heaved, my fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Relax," he rumored, his voice thick with desire." Let me take care of you."

And he did.

Every touch, every kiss, every movement changed me, twisting me. He was patient yet demanding, knowing exactly how to tease me.

When he eventually entered me, I forgot how to breathe.

He moved sluggishly at first, his cock pressed against my heated flesh, his breath hot against my lips.

"Look at me," he muttered.

I opened my eyes, drowning in his beautiful eyes.

And then he moved.

A deep thrust. A sharp one that left me breathing hard.

Pleasure exploded inside me, drowning out everything I thought I knew.

I held to him as he drove me crazy, our bodies moving in sync, chasing something that felt dangerously close to me.

“Please —” I moaned as my nails ran down his back. “ I— I..”

“Come for me.” He murmured, holding my gaze.

And I did.

The world shattered around me as pleasure consumed me, pulling me under and leaving me breathless and pulsing beneath him.

He followed seconds later, his body tensing, his moan muffled against my skin.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Our breaths mingled, our bodies tangled, the weight of reality sluggishly creeping back in.

He rolled onto his back, pulling me against his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles on my bare skin.

I should have left. I should have come to my senses.

I should have gotten up, seized my dress, and walked out the door without looking back.

But I didn’t.

Maybe because it was the alcohol, maybe because he made me forget about Talon and Jasmine, so I stayed.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel broken.

And that was dangerous.