#nessian isl

[nightcourtreader]

I need an explanation as to why people think that out of all people in acotar, it’s Azriel whose story ties into the dusk court.

I still don’t even think we know enough about the “dusk court” because one it’s not even a court and hasn’t been for many years. We don’t have the full story yet even after reading hosab.

We don’t know if the court will be up and running because if the dusk court is what the prison isle is now, and the court is suppose to be up and running after crescent city or Elain’s book then where the hell are the creatures that’s locked up there suppose to go?

But connecting Azriel to the dusk court when nobody really has a hard connection to the prison isle besides feysand & nessian since they are the only people we’ve seen go there. I don’t see the connection with Azriel.

#azriel #azriel acotar #dusk court #dusk theory #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acosf

[snelbz]

Isn’t She Lovely {10}

Summary: Cassian, a single father, tries online dating for a one night stand and gets more than he bargains for. Nesta, a former professional ballet dancer, opens her own studio in her new hometown of Velaris and finds that she knows one of her students’ fathers from a night of utter regret.

Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. NSFW.

A collab with @theladyofdeath.

A/N: THE END! We loved writing this story for you! From an idea for a HC that we had to the full-fledged series this has become, Tara and I have loved watching this story grow. We can’t wait for you to read the next two stories in this series!

Arya peeked her head around the corner of the doorway leading into the kitchen. The few adults that were around were all in very important conversations and she slipped in as sneakily as possible. Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled around the bar and under the table, careful not to bump into any of the chairs. She poked her head above the table, her objective in sight. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she was just about to grab a cookie, decorated with pale blue and white icing, and-

Suddenly, she was lifted into the air, over a shoulder and she was upside down looking at a familiar face. “Put me down, Uncle Az!”

“What are you doing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re compromising my mission!” She replied, squirming.

Snorting, he put her right side up and said, “Compromising? What are you, six or sixteen?”

“Six and a half,” she replied, peeking back at the table. “I learned it from mommy.”

He chuckled, “Of course you did. No cookies before the ceremony.” He grabbed the entire plate and put it up on the counter where she couldn’t reach. “You heard your dad.”

Arya crossed her arms. “Daddy said I could have one.”

“Liar,” Azriel muttered. “I’ve been told specifically to keep you away from sugar.”

Arya frowned, crossing her arms. “Where’s daddy?”

“Getting ready,” Azriel said, simply. “I think he’s a little bit nervous.”

Arya frowned. “Why?”

“Well, it’s a big day for him,” Azriel said simply. “Actually, it would probably make him feel better if you went to talk to him.”

Arya kicked her feet down until she was placed on the ground. “I want daddy.”

Azriel took her hand and led her through the house without a word. When he stopped, they were standing outside of Cassian's door. 

They knocked.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Daddy!” Arya said and pushed open the door.

The slacks he wore were cut to just his size, yet we’re still far too tight for his liking. But wasn’t dressed for himself today.

Neither was Arya, for that fact.

Except she was wearing her sparkly blue competition leotard from gymnastics last summer, not the gauzy, white dress that was hopefully still laid out neatly on her bed and not in a heap somewhere on her floor.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet, baby?” Cassian asked, raising an eyebrow at her attire. She had paired the onesie with some yellow shorts, her soccer socks, and the tiny combat boots Nesta had found thrift shopping the week before. At least her hair was still nearly perfect in the coronet it had been braided into earlier that morning.

“I didn’t want to get it dirty,” she defended, as if not wearing her dress was noble.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “While doing what?”

“Crawling through the kitchen to unsuccessfully steal a cookie,” Azriel answered for her. He bowed and began backing away from the door. “If you need me, I’m going to have a cookie.”

Arya gasped. “Traitor!”

Cassian just shook his head and said, “Don’t let Feyre catch you, she’s planned everything to the tiniest detail.”

Azriel waved him off as he went and he turned to his daughter. He bent down in front of her. “Time to go get dressed, baby.”

He held out his hands flat out and she laid her tiny hands on top of them. “Okay, daddy.”

“And no more crawling around the kitchen, okay?” He brought her hands to his lips one at a time and kissed the back of each.

She couldn’t help but smile and repeat, “Okay, daddy.” She stepped between his bent legs and wrapped her little arms around him. They barely made it around his sides.

He hugged her back tightly, before pulling back to look into her face. “I love you, you know that? You’ll always be my number one girl.”

Arya nodded. “I know, but I can share you with mommy.”

Cassian’s face softened and he pressed a kiss to the top of her neatly braided hair.

Resting a hand on his stubbled cheek, Arya said, “You look handsome, daddy.”

“Do I?” He asked, and stood to face the mirror. He tried, even if it wasn’t him who had picked out his clothes. His hair hung loose, which he had debated on, but Nesta loved his long hair so he brushed it through and thought he’d leave it in its natural state.

Arya nodded excitedly. “And mommy looks very pretty.”

Cassian caught his daughter's eye in his reflection. “Is that so?”

Arya said, “She looks like a princess.”

Cassian laughed softly as he picked her up. “You’re going to look like a princess too once you get dressed. Although,” he looked down at her outfit and then back up at her face. “I like the outfit, kid.”

“Thanks daddy,” she said quietly, and laid her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re getting married.”

“Me too,” he said, and kissed her cheek before setting her down. “Alright, go get your dress on. Aunt Elain will help you.”

Arya nodded before skipping out of the room and down the hall to where Nesta and her bridal party were getting ready. 

She made a beeline to where Elain was sitting on the floor in front of a full length mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. “Can you help me get my dress on, Aunt Lainy?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she said, standing up and following Arya to the bedroom she’d stayed in last night. Her dress still laid on the bed, clean and pristine. After helping her step into it, Elain started on the hidden zipper beneath the multitude of buttons along the back. She asked, “Did you pack your tights and your shoes?”

“Yes!” She was hurrying across the room, pulling out a pair of pale pink tights and sparkling flats to match. After helping her put them on and securing the clasp around her ankle, Arya was hurrying over to the mirror in the corner. “I look like a princess now, too!”

Elain couldn’t help but smile as she watched her niece. “Yes, you do.”

“I wanna show mommy,” Arya beamed, turning towards Elain and clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Please, please, please.”

Nesta had been locked in the bathroom with the hair and makeup team for nearly two hours, and she’d asked for that time alone, to reflect on how much her life had changed in the past two years. How perfect it was now, compared to what she thought was her dream come true.

But Arya had been patient and hadn’t asked to see Nesta all morning, despite wanting to. So Elain brought her back into the master bedroom where Feyre sat with Nyx asleep against her chest. They’d all agreed that his tiny tuxedo was the cutest thing they’d ever seen. Mor was braiding Emerie’s hair, who was talking to Gwyn as she finished her makeup. Arya blew past all of them, not even giving her baby cousin a second glance as she rushed for the door, pulling Elain along by the hand. She paused before the door, practically bouncing.

Elain chuckled as she knocked on the door softly. “Princess Arya requests to see the bride.”

She could hear laughter in her sister’s voice as she answered. “Well, I can’t deny her that, can I?”

The door opened and Arya bounced in, instantly gasping when she saw Nesta. Her golden-brown hair was in a braid that crowned her head. Her makeup was soft, nothing crazy, but extraordinarily beautiful. A string of pearls was around her neck and she had earrings to match. A soft, dusty pink had been painted on her fingers and toes.

All that was missing was her dress.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” Nesta said, catching Arya as the six-year-old threw herself into Nesta’s arms. 

“Thank you,” Arya said, and patted down her dress as she stepped back. “Why aren’t you in your dress?”

“I’m waiting until the very last minute to put it on,” Nesta said and leaned in to whisper into Arya’s ear, “otherwise, I can’t eat.”

Arya scoffed. “I tried getting a cookie but Uncle Azzie caught me and then told on me to daddy.”

Nesta frowned. “Well, here.” She turned and broke off a piece of a chocolate chip cookie before popping it into Arya’s mouth. “There. Our little secret.”

Arya swooned and went on to be completely over dramatic about how delicious the cookie really was. Then, she said, “I’m happy daddy is marrying you.”

Nesta’s eyes softened as she said, “Me too.”

“Can I stay to see you in your pretty dress?” she asked.

“I’m sure that would be fine,” Nesta said. “Maybe you can help put on my veil.”

Her eyes lit up, but there was another knock at the door.

Elain peeked in, Feyre right behind her. The large dress bag they carried was taller than both of them and Elain smiled softly. “It’s time.”

The photographer wasn’t far behind and after she’d put her dress on the majority of the way, there were some beautiful shots taken of her sisters cinching it up in the back while Nesta watched from the mirror. It was a sweet moment, one Nesta was thankful she had with her sisters. And she was thankful she’d come to Velaris two years ago, not only because it brought Cassian into her life, but it allowed her a relationship with her sisters she never thought she’d have.

“Arya?”

She’d been sitting on the bench Nesta had vacated, watching everything that happened quietly. She hopped up at the sound of her name though, and hurried over to where Nesta had bent down to her level. She handed her the little comb her veil was attached to.

“Put it right here,” Nesta smiled, turning and pointing to the spot where the braid blended seamlessly into her hair. She reminded her, “Carefully.”

Arya nodded and stood on her tip toes, sliding the combs almost exactly where they needed to be.

Nesta turned around and gave her a bright smile. “There. Now I’m ready.”

Arya wrapped her arms around Nesta’s neck. “You look pretty, mommy.”

Mommy. The name never failed to make Nesta’s heart feel like it was going to burst. Arya had begun using it right around her fifth birthday, and neither Cassian or Nesta had stopped her. Sometimes, she had still called her Miss Nesta, but eventually she became Mommy for good.

She’d never been so happy.

“Thank you, baby,” Nesta breathed, hugging her back. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she said, and Nesta never thought she would grow tired of saying those words, hearing those words, after spending so much of her life avoiding them. 

Before she could fully collect her thoughts, could fully emerge herself in the moment, Nesta was being left alone. 

Arya was pulled to the front to walk down the aisle pulling Nyx in a wagon, then there was Mor walking down the aisle with her bouquet, followed by Emerie, then Gwyn. Amren went next. Cassian had been right two years ago when he said she would get along well with one of Cassian’s oldest, most sarcastic friends.

The men were already waiting at the end of the aisle, although Nesta wouldn’t be able to see them until she went through the doors.

The music inside went out, the melodious sound of the string quartet sending chills down Nesta’s spine. Elain took one of her arms, and Feyre took the other.

“Ready?” her youngest sister whispered.

Nesta nodded, and the doors swung open.

She met Cassian’s eyes as his mouth fell open as his eyes lined with tears. Rhysand and Azriel stood to his side, each of them giving one another a smile.

Nesta’s sisters walked her down the aisle and it took every ounce of willpower in Nesta not to run down the walkway and into Cassian’s arms. 

The space was beautiful. Feyre had been in charge and Nesta had left it solely in her hands. She did not disappoint. The high ceilings allowed light in from the floor length windows, the snow covered hills beautiful displayed beyond them. Billows of white silk fell from the ceiling and fairy lights twinkled among them. Bouquets were strewn about, thanks to Elain, white lilies and blue irises. It was perfect.

Arya went to stand with her Uncle Rhys, while Feyre took Nyx and she and Elain took their places to the opposite side of their husbands and the rest of Cassian’s groomsmen. Nesta stepped up to where Cassian stood and he murmured, “Hello, sweetheart,” as he took her hand and they stood before the officiant. Nesta had never been one for religion, instead focusing on her own personal faith, regardless of what a church said she could or couldn’t do. But she was one for tradition, so they would exchange the traditional vows of holy matrimony, as well as an Illyrian ceremony at another date. That was more for Cassian, for his mother and the wedding she always dreamed he’d have, but after this, legally, she would be his wife.

Mrs. Nesta Nazari

She pretended she hadn’t been obsessing over how perfect it sounded since Cassian had proposed six months before.

Who was she kidding, she’d been thinking about how perfect it was since she realized she was falling in love with him.

When Cassian was asked to read the vows he had written, Nesta swore his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink beneath his stubble.

With a deep breath, he took a folded up letter out of his breast pocket and cleared his throat. “This is intimidating,” he murmured, looking out at the crowd. Nesta laughed quietly, and waited patiently. Cassian began, “There was a time when I swore that I would never marry. Even after I became a father, something else I swore I’d never be, I didn’t see myself as the husband type. And, for those of you who have known me a long time, I’m sure you thought that about me too.” A few chuckles came from the bridal party, but Cassian looked up at Nesta. “But then I met you. I met you in the least traditional way, and our first date…was also not very traditional, but it woke me up from a slump that I had been in for a long, long time. I fell in love with you so quickly, and it was because you were so undoubtedly yourself. You were headstrong. Stubborn. Pretty damn rude.” Nesta rolled her eyes. Behind her, her sisters laughed. “And you still are all those things, by the way.” He grinned, and took her hand. “But, you’re also passionate. Incredibly talented. So beautiful, inside and out. You love more fiercely than anyone I’ve ever known. Not only me, but Arya, too.” Cassian’s voice cracked as he was overcome with emotion. He cleared his throat again. “There was never a time when I wasn’t drawn to you. As soon as I met you, you consumed me. Now, I can’t imagine what life would be like without you in it, and I’m so damn glad that I don’t have to. Nes, I love you. I’m so in love with you and I hope to spend every day for the rest of my life loving you with all that I am.”

There were tears running down Nesta’s face before he finished speaking and when the priest turned towards her, she cleared her throat. Once. Twice.

“I tried to write you pretty vows, but everything sounded too cliché, and I know how much you hate clichés in happily ever afters.” Cassian chuckled, knowing she was talking about his hatred of cheesy romance movies. “I decided I would just tell you how I feel instead. I spent years chasing my dreams, thinking that they were the only thing that could make me happy. I’d achieve one after the other, waiting for the validation and happiness that came with success. It never did. And then, right when I was at the cusp of accomplishing everything I’d ever wanted, I lost it all.” She squeezed his hands and smiled up at him, but turned her eyes to Arya. “I had no idea what I was about to gain. You two are the best things that ever happened to me, the most precious things in my life. I’m so blessed that you both accepted me into your family and I love you both so much.” She looked back to Cassian, at the shameless tears spilling over. “From the first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were something different, that you weren’t just going to pass in and out of my life and let me be on my way. I knew you were confident and cocky and arrogant and full of yourself-.”

“Is that all?” He asked, chuckling, as were a few others.

“Absolutely not, but I guess I do need to wrap this up. But you love harder than anyone else I’ve ever met. You would do anything for those you love and I count myself lucky that I’m one of them.” She brought her hand up to his face, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re my entire world, my best friend, the love of my life. I am so in love with you and I can’t wait to spend our forever together.”

Cassian didn’t speak.

He didn’t trust himself to.

Instead he nodded and smiled and took her face into his hands and kissed her softly. 

The officiant chuckled and said, “I haven’t said to kiss the bride yet.”

Cassian backed away and whispered, “I just couldn’t help myself.”

They said their I do's, simple words that held more meaning than either of them had ever said or heard. And when Cassian was asked to kiss the bride, he took Nesta into his arms and didn’t hold back.

Arya’s hands flew to her face to cover her eyes as the room erupted into cheers. After a few seconds passed, Cassian pulled back, grinning wildly, and lifted his hand in the air, being held by Nesta’s, in sweet victory.

“Now announcing for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Cassian Nazari.”

They walked back down the aisle, together, between their closest friends.

They celebrated and danced and drank until the sun had long set beneath the mountains around them. Cassian was gently swaying back and forth on the dance floor, Nesta in his arms, when he caught Feyre waving to him from across the large hall their reception was held in.

“I think someone is ready to go to bed,” he murmured, seeing how Arya was resting her head on Feyre’s shoulder.

Nesta looked up and smiled. “I guess we need to give her her present, don’t we?”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “Yes, we do.

They left the dance floor and met Feyre. Before either of them could say anything, Arya was reaching for Cassian and he took her.

“She wanted to say goodnight before we go to bed,” Feyre smiled, and Nesta could tell she was tired. Nyx was only a few months old, so she knew she hadn’t been sleeping great. Even though it was still relatively early by party standards, Feyre looked as tired as their six-year-old.

“We’ll meet you by the stairs up to the rooms,” Nesta promised, and Feyre nodded. The sisters hugged, Feyre giving the two of them her congratulations again, and she headed to wait in the great room. Cassian was willing to bet they’d find her asleep on one of the couches when they brought Arya back to her.

Cassian carried Arya into a room off to the side of the hall and set her on the couch. She was sleepy, but grinned up at them. “Aunt Emmie said we could turn in Shrek.”

She’d lost two of her teeth the week before, and her toothless smile was beaming.

“Did you have fun today?” Cassian asked, kneeling down in front of her, while Nesta sat on the couch next to her.

She nodded her head excitedly. “I wish everyday was your wedding.”

Nesta couldn’t stop her smile then, too, and she said, “Me too, sweet girl.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but mommy and daddy got a lot of presents since they got married,” he said, pointing behind him at the table stacked high with gifts.

She had seen them earlier and her eyes were as big then as they were now. “That’s more presents than I got on my birthday.”

Nesta chuckled, while Cassian turned around and grabbed a Manila envelope off the table the pile of gifts sat upon. “There were a lot more people here than there were at your birthday party last year,” she explained. “But daddy and I wanted to get you something today. It was a big day for you, too.”

Arya’s eyes widened as Cassian opened the flat and handed her the envelope. She looked at it before flipping it over in her hands. “This is boring, it’s not even wrapped!”

Nesta laughed then, while Cassian shook his head and said, “Just open it, kid.”

He had debated on whether it was the right move or not, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Tanwyn was amazing. She had been one of Cassian's best friends and always would be. But, Arya didn’t remember her at all. She died when Arya was months old. She would always be Arya’s mother, her birth mom, but she needed a mom who was there, too.

A mom who was present. 

A mom who wasn’t going anywhere.

A mom who would be there day in and day out.

Arya frowned at the papers she pulled out of the envelope.

Cassian took them and began to explain, “These papers say that Nesta is your official mom. I know you call her your mommy, but now Nesta is legally your mom.”

Arya’s eyes lit up and she looked up at Nesta. “Like, you’re really my mommy?”

She nodded and said, “Really,” and caught her as she jumped into her lap.

Cassian, pretending the moment wasn’t affecting him as much as it was, said, “As recognized by Velaris and all seven territories in Prythian.”

Nesta threw him an exasperated glance, but hugged Arya a little tighter as she held her daughter.

A few minutes and several hugs later, Arya was headed up to her bedroom, telling Emerie about how Nesta was her real mommy now.

Nesta and Cassian stayed in the blessedly empty main room of the large cabin they’d booked for the wedding and reception.

He took her in his arms and she rested her head on his chest, releasing a sigh. Chuckling, he rubbed his hand up and down her arms. “Tired, sweetheart?”

“No,” she laughed, glancing up at him. “Just enjoying the silence.”

“Too much socializing for one day?” He asked.

She chuckled. “And then some.”

He hummed and after a moment of silence, he said, “You know the days not over yet.”

Nesta leaned back to look up at him. “Oh no?”

He slowly shook his head. “Pretty sure we have a room to ourselves calling our name.”

“Oh?” Nesta asked, brows raised. “And what would we do in there?”

“I’ll be happy to show you,” he muttered, and swept her into his arms. Nesta’s laughter filled the quiet cabin as she held onto him. Together they made their way down the hall to the biggest room in the cabin.

Inside wasn’t anything special, not that the room itself wasn’t lovely in itself. There were no decorations, though, nothing but it’s size making it any different from anyone else’s rooms.

They didn’t need anything else though.

The day had been perfect.

More than enough.

And when Cassian nudged the door shut with his foot, Nesta knew it would only be getting better.

“Have I mentioned,” he murmured in Nesta’s ear, sending goosebumps along her skin, “how breathtakingly gorgeous you look today?”

“Once or twice,” she breathed, arching her neck to give him better access. It had been nearly a week since she’d had him inside her - Illyrian traditions, he’d explained when she’d nearly thrown a fit - and even his lips by her ear had her feeling like she may combust.

“Good,” he replied, following her silent directions and letting his lips trail along her throat. “I’m going to keep reminding you though.” A kiss to her pulse point. “Every day.” A kiss to the spot beneath her ear. “For the rest of our lives.” A kiss to her lips.

Nesta’s gaze softened as she looked at him. Her husband.

“I love you,” she said, putting her hand on his cheek. “Until the world dissolves into darkness one day, my heart will be yours.”

His eyes met hers and for a moment neither of them said a word, but the look they shared could have moved mountains. 

“How the hell did I find you?” He breathed and kissed her slowly. She instantly responded, but just as Cassian was about to lay her down on their bed, he froze. And frowned at her dress. “And how the hell do I remove this beautiful gown?”

Nesta’s head fell back as she laughed, and then she was pushing on Cassian's chest to let her down. He did so, and the second her feet hit the floorboards she was hurrying into the bathroom.

As he began to protest, she was locking the door between them and reaching for the bag beneath the sink.

She had never been one for lingerie, preferred gracing Cassian with her utter nakedness, but their wedding called for a special occasion. 

Careful not to snag the scraps of lace, she placed them on the countertop before reaching behind her back. It wasn’t complicated, just a tie that came loose and eventually loosened enough for her to slip out of the floor-length, slim ivory gown.

Which is exactly what she did.

Keeping her heels on, she pulled on a lace thong that could hardly qualify as underwear, and the incandescent teddy that matched.

She looked in the mirror, but still hesitated before going out into their bedroom. She knew that she looked good, better than good, actually. She kept herself in impeccable shape, thanks to dance, and she and Cassian went to the gym together at least once a week. So she looked phenomenal in the tight lace that did little to hide her body. But there was something about the ensemble that required a confidence Nesta found herself lacking.

Regardless, she brushed her teeth and touched her makeup up just a bit, and took a deep breath before opening the door to the bedroom.

Cassian was nowhere to be found.

She looked around and called, “Cass?”

“Balcony,” she heard, and saw that the door was just slightly ajar.

Glancing down at the complete lack of appropriate clothes she was wearing, she said, “Why don’t you come inside?”

There was a pause before he said, “Why don’t you come outside? There’s a hot tub.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Just come inside, please.”

There was a pause then Cassian’s heavy footsteps could be heard atop the wooden balcony before he rounded the corner, gloriously nude.

His body glistened in the outside light, no doubt from said hot tub. 

He took one look at Nesta, his eyes sweeping down her body, and his eyes went dark.

Even though Nesta’s toes curled, she said, “Seems like we both had our own ideas of how to surprise one another tonight.”

Cassian grinned, crossing his broad arms across his chest. “Unlike you, I’m not afraid to go outside naked.”

Nesta glanced down at her incandescent attire. “It’s a little chilly out to be in the nude.”

“Hot tub,” he reminded her.

Nesta laughed quietly and shook her head as she approached him, reaching out to brush her fingertips down his arms as she reached him.

“We can go to the hot tub,” she promised, voice low. “After I do to you what I had planned in here.”

“That’s a fair compromise,” he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

His cock bumped her stomach, grazing over the soft lace and he murmured, “I like this, by the way.” He popped one of the straps of the thong and Nesta wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. “I do, too. So don’t tear it.”

Her hand tightened for emphasis and he grinned down at her. Far too many of Nesta’s panties, leggings, and the few pieces of lingerie she’d owned had been destroyed when Cassian just couldn’t wait to have her. She really did prefer to keep this one intact.

“If I don’t, will you wear it for me again?” He asked, running his hands up her body, careful to not let his calluses snag on any of the intricate lace.

As his hands cupped her breasts, she began to stroke him. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he repeated, his voice breaking, hitched as that familiar feeling began to brew in the pit of his stomach, like a beast cracking open an eye.

“Maybe,” she crooned, and Cassian’s fingers trailed along the straps of her lingerie. 

“Maybe doesn’t convince me not to tear this thing to shreds so that I can see you bare,” he said, voice low, that growl coming out that made Nesta want to combust. 

“You’re insufferable,” she huffed, and kissed him. 

She stroked him a little faster as their tongues brushed against one another’s. To know that this would be their forever had them both wanting to ignore that foreplay altogether. Cassian couldn’t bear having her hand enveloping him when it should be something else entirely.

“I need to be inside of you,” Cassian muttered against her mouth. “Now.”

“Then get this off of me and make it happen,” she replied, rubbing her thumb over the head of his cock.

“Careful how you say that,” he hissed through his teeth. “I’ll get it off of you real quick.”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta released his length and stepped back, pulling each strap down slowly. She knew that if she left it on while they fucked, it would either get destroyed intentionally or by Cassian’s hands snagging on something. Shimmying it down her body, she revealed each glorious inch of her bare skin and Cassian’s mouth was basically watering.

“Would you like to continue this in the hot tub?” She asked, smirking at him.

Cassian didn’t need to be convinced. He held out his hand and Nesta took it. They walked out onto the balcony together and sunk into the hot, steamy water. 

As soon as they were settled, Nesta crawled onto his lap and straddled his waist. She ran her fingers through his hair before sinking down onto his cock.

He let out a long breath as their lips met as she rose and fell, slowly, carefully. 

“I will never get tired of this,” Cassian said, quietly. “Of you. I love you. I love you, so much.”

Nesta leaned back and met his eye, her hips still rocking as she said, “I love you, Cass. I can’t believe I’m your wife.”

Wife.

Their lips met again and Cassian took hold of her waist in his hands, guiding her even though she didn’t need such guidance. 

Their joining was like a song by this point, something beautiful that flowed between them, knowing each other’s bodies as well as their own. The way Nesta was beginning to buck her hips, the high-pitched moan that was beginning to fall from her lips with every inch of his cock that filled her. Cassian knew she was close, knew it would be a matter of minutes before he watched her fall to pieces before him. He loved to watch her cum, whether that was by her own hand or his, loved how beautifully broken she became as she shattered around him. She would give herself over to the pleasure, letting go of her inhibitions, letting go of all thoughts that weren’t related to him and the feeling of him inside of her.

Her head fell against his shoulder and she moaned as his hips lifted to meet hers.

“Please, Cassian.”

It wasn’t often that Nesta used that word —please —especially during sex, so Cassian obliged her, his lips finding the spot on her neck he knew drove her wild, and fucked her with no abandon. Nesta screamed, the sound reverberating off the snow and mountains around them, and Cassian covered her mouth with a wet hand. She continued to moan, heard muffled versions of his name and various curses as his hips met hers, and suddenly she went rigid, her body stiffening as she found release. Her pussy gripped him, so warm and wet and tight that he was unable to stop himself as he fell over the edge behind her and groaned her name as he came.

Nesta’s forehead rested against his shoulder again and Cassian traced long lines up and down her spine. When her breathing settled, he crooned, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, exhaustion filling her body.

It had been an exceptionally long day for both of them. They had a flight to catch to Adriata at four in the morning, so getting some sleep probably wasn’t a horrible idea.

Cassian stood, his cock still nestled inside of Nesta, and her legs tightened around his waist. Carrying her back inside, he was about to drop her onto the bed, still dripping from the hot tub, when Nesta stopped him. He put her down and grabbed two towels for them from the attached bathroom, while she hurried to where her purse was sitting with their bags on the couch. She rifled through it before pulling something out and holding it behind her back. Cassian narrowed his eyes at her as he gave her a towel.

“I have one more gift for you,” she said, wrapping the towel around her body, blocking the sight of her beautiful breasts from him. Probably for the best since he likely would have been staring at them anyways. She held out a small card, no larger than a business card and he took it. A date from the week before had been scrawled on it and he flipped it over. He didn’t recognize the doctor’s name.

“What’s this?” He asked, knowing nothing could be wrong, not with Nesta’s smile as soft as it was.

“I went to see my gynecologist last week,” she said, fiddling with the edge of her towel. “I…had my IUD removed.”

They’d been discussing growing their family, giving Arya a sibling.

Cassian blinked. “You did?”

Nesta nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought it was time. Figured you’d have no objections.”

“Oh, I don’t,” he said quickly, his smile growing. “I don’t.”

He was so madly in love with this woman, his wife, mother of his children. He kissed her then and he could see it: the future they would have together.

He knew without a doubt that it would be lovely.

#nessian isl #isn’t she lovely #nesta x cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #nessian #acofas #acosf

[darklove9314-blog]

Nessian Mating Cermony

Happy Nessian month!!! Since I already wrote my version of Nessian’s mating ceremony in my fanfiction Symphonia,I thought I’d share it again on here because I love it so much. Also this Fic does contain spoilers for ACOSF so read at you own risk!!! @illyrianet

Not having second thoughts, are you?” Elain asked placing the last of the flowers in Nesta’s braid as Nesta stared out the window surveying the preparations for the mating bond ceremony down below.

“Not at all.” Nesta smiled turning away from the window as a soft cry filled the room.

“Sorry. He’s been fussy lately.” Feyre explained, exhaustion filling her eyes accentuating the dark circles underneath them as Nesta strode over to them holding out her arms.

“May I?” Nesta asked. She hadn’t put on her dress yet and they still had a few more hours to spare.

“Only if you’re sure.” Feyre answered handing Nyx over to Nesta. Her nephew fitting comfortably in her arms. Still fussing but staring at her with those big blue eyes staring at her with wonder.

“Hello, little one.” She cooed running a hand over his black hair trying to soothe him. Feyre taking a seat in the nearest chair, exhaustion finally taking over.

The baby reached up touching Nesta’s cheek as she rocked him back and forth, her sisters looking at both.

“What?” She asked Nyx squirming in her arms probably wondering why she stopped. She continued to rock him.

“Nothing.” Feyre smiled as Nesta patted Nyx’s back, a small burp falling from his mouth. Some spit up getting on Nesta’s shirt.

Nesta shrugged grabbing the tissue Elain offered and cleaning it off.

“I think we found out the reason why he was fussy.” Nesta laughed, her nephew smiling handing him back to Feyre.

“Are you ready to get dressed?” Elain asked excited as she went to where the dress hung.

“Yes.” Nesta answered excitement filling her as she slipped off her clothes before Feyre and Elain helped her in the dress.

She went to the full-length mirror and inspected herself, her breath catching slightly.

The mating dress she had chosen was a long sleeve high neck dress with full skirts and a lace bodice. She had opted for flowers in her hair and no crown like Cassian had joked about. There was no need for one. Tonight, she would officially be mated to the love of her life and she for one couldn’t wait to see what their future would hold.

A knock sounded from the door and Emerie emerged smiling.

“You look beautiful.” She said, Gwyn coming in behind her.

“You came.” She smiled pulling both into a hug.

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Gwyn answered the light catching her red hair.

“You’re almost ready.”

“Almost?” Nesta asked as they all pulled something out, Nesta lifting a brow. “What is this?”

“You’ll have to give it back after the ceremony, but I thought you might want to burrow it for the day.” Gwyn said taking her friendship bracelet and clasping it beside Nesta’s on her wrist.

“I have these blue garters in the shop.” Emerie smiled as Nesta slipped it on.

“When I went to the rainbow the other day and I saw this thought of you.” Feyre smiled. The silver comb in her hand as she placed it in Nesta’s hair and then she turned to Elain.

“I know we don’t have much, but I figured you would want this today.” Elain smiled as Elain gave her a dagger, the handle made of wood.

“It has flames on it.” She smiled as she turned to Feyre.

“We may have refurnished that old dresser.” Feyre smiled. “Elain and I have similar ones.”

Nesta smiled at her sisters. Tears coming to her eyes. “You did all this for me?”

“We may be fae, but it doesn’t mean we have to let go of everything.” Feyre smiled as Gwyn, Emerie, Feyre, and Elain pulled her into a hug, and she stood there letting the love of her sister’s flow through her.

Gwyn squeezed her hand as her and Emerie went to go stand with their small group of friends and family as her, Feyre and Elain remained. The fae didn’t have the same traditions as mortal weddings. Bridesmaids were not a thing in the fae world, so Nesta would stand up there alone with Cassian and the priestess who would officiate their mating ceremony.

“I’ll be up front.” Elain stated squeezing Nesta’s hand before heading out the door out with Nyx to the sitting area.

“Are you ready for this?” Feyre asked taking Nesta’s hand in her own.

“Will you walk me down to him?” Nesta asked as Feyre smiled.

“Of course, I will.” Feyre answered as the doors sliding her arm into Nesta’s as she opened the doors and Nesta took everything in.

Music played from the Symphonia signaling her arrival. Candles lite the isle, garland hung from the ceiling, the windows looking out to the Sidra as lace and silk lined the chairs to the alter and all went quiet. She sensed Gwyn, Elain, Emerie, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel, Mor, and Nyx in the room, but all fell away as her eyes landed on Cassian. Her lover, her friend, and her mate. His eyes fixed on hers and it was as if they were the only two in the universe.

Tears filled his eyes matching her own as Feyre walked her down to him as Feyre placed Nesta’s hand into Cassian’s and Cassian looked at Feyre a smile on his beautiful face.

“I got her. Don’t worry.” Cassian promised squeezing Nesta’s hand and pulling her to him, her heart beating in time with his. There was nothing else. No one else besides them. His eyes saying all the words that his mouth could not. Keeping her fingers interlaced with his.

“I love you.” He mouthed to her, calming her nerves.

“I love you too.” She mouthed back, her smile brightening the room.

The priestess started off with the opening prayer for their ceremony before they recited their vows to each other promising to love and protect each other for as long as they lived. After they were finished the priestess spoke a prayer to the mother to bless this union with love, peace, and fertility instructing them to open the bond to each other.

Their hearts beat as one as Nesta and Cassian opened their bond to each other, the gold light of their souls flowing into each other illuminating the room with its essence.

When the priestess was finished with her prayer, she looked to both Nesta and Cassian asking if they had brought their mating food.

Elain smiled bringing up the lemon blueberry muffin handing it to Nesta as Azriel gave Cassian the chocolate cake making Nesta smile. Elain had helped Nesta, and Cassian make both. Careful not to interrupt them making it and giving them helpful instructions.

“No turning back now.” Cassian smiled illuminating the room as her smirk matched his.

“Thank the Gods.” She answered offering him the muffin as he offered her a bite of the cake.

The bond sang, his golden thread floating into her as her golden thread flowed into him. Just like it had done during solstice night. Their souls twining as one. And she was not afraid. Of him. Of this. Her lover. Her friend. Her husband. Her mate. She had expected the binding of their wrist next, but Mor smiled coming up to Cassian and placing two wedding bands in his free hand. Her eyebrow lifted in question.

“I heard it’s tradition for husband and wife to exchange rings. “

“Cassian.” She whispered at a loss for words. Tears blurring her vision.

“You are mine, just like I am yours. And I know how important those words are to you as well. You are my mate, but I would also love to call you my wife. And I’d be honored if you called me your husband.”

He set the rings in Nesta’s hand and clasped her other hand on top of it placing his own on them. And without having to say the words, Nesta knew what he wanted her to do letting her power flow through her as she made a wish to be by his side forever the glow from her hands illuminating their bands before she opened her hand, Cassian taking her ring and sliding it on her left hand. The ring feeling like it always belonged there as she took his ring and slid it on his hand. Their worlds colliding, their hearts entwining as one. He leaned forward and kissed her, it holding all the power of the universe.

When the kiss ended, Cassian touched his forehead to hers as the priestess turned to Rhys and Feyre, they stepped up to the alter taking the black ribbon and intertwining their wrist together enchanting it to not fall away until their mating was consummated. Her love and need growing strong for the man before her. The priestess closed the ceremony declaring them mates. And no feeling in the world compared as they brought their mouth together, the room imploding with love, life, and laughter as they smiled at their friends, their family before heading off to finish their mating. Their life together begging at last.

#nesta archeron #nessian #nesta #cassian #acosf #acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #nessianmonth

[mightymorphingayagenda]

cant wait for lethal combination chapter 5! and loved the holiday nessian fic you wrote!

then you shan’t have to wait! and thank you so much, nonnie. the fic they’re talking about and all previous chapters of lethal combo can be found here,  x

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” 

Nesta kept her gaze on the wall of oak opposite her.  

“Is this the part where I tell you to get on your knees for me?” She asked.  

Humourless. 

And she could practically feel the feral rage radiating from him. Bleeding through the grate to her left like he were trying to smoke her out.  

“This is the part where you-“ 

“Shhh.” 

A lean shadow, a head of auburn hair, muted in the darkness like the decayed verdure of autumn, barely distinguishable through the latticed window no bigger than her hand.  

She’d made Eris wait almost a day.  

In Nesta’s experience teenage girls understood psychological warfare better than any CIA types she’d met. And rule one in the handbook was never call him back right away.  

Eris might as well have been a cute boy from home room, the advice stood fast.  

She’d also chosen the time and place for their meeting, giving no concessions in authority. Picking the church as unlike her he’d inherited both the egregious wealth of his family and their faith. Irish Catholic. Meaning he’d find himself here every Sunday evening regardless, and providing not only the guise of normality, but the cosy anonymity of a confessional.  

The only people who did secrecy better than assassins, were the Catholics.  

It was perfect really, the perfect plan. Undistracted Nesta had been able to work it out pretty quickly after Cassian had left. Leaving her all those hours between four in the morning and her meeting the following evening with nothing to do but hate him.  

Avoiding returning to the bed he’d screwed her in. Glaring at his jacket which still hung beside her front door over a bottle of vodka.  

It was a blow to her pride to be sure. The closest thing to rejection she’d ever received from a man. Whatsmore, some gooey part of her she’d pushed down had been upset.  

Too worked up to sleep she’d spent hours tucked into her armchair and entertaining plucking his teeth from his mouth like the petals of a rose. He loves me, he loves me not. Because worse than revealing himself to be a complete ass as most men did, Cassian had done so subsequent to fucking her better than she could have dreamed. And she’d had that dream. Multiple times.  

Wet dreams that couldn’t hold a candle to the way he’d had her dripping down to her knees, begging for his cock, trembling on legs he’d thrown over his shoulder to lick out her cunt like it was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. The man had spoilt her rotten.  

Nesta knew she probably shouldn’t have been thinking about sex in a church. Her mother was likely burning with a fury hotter than the flames that surrounded her down below, but she couldn’t help it. Because while she hated the sinner- ever bronze buffed, tattooed inch of him - god did she love the sin.  

“The adult is going to talk,” she said quietly. “If you want to throw a tantrum you can do it on your own time because as of this moment, I’m officially off the clock.”  

Eris’ silence said he knew better than to interrupt her. Perhaps he was smarter than she was about to give him credit for.  

“In fact I stopped working for you as of the moment you chose to question my methods and profess concerns that I may have jeopardised our venture because I lack the professionalism to keep my legs shut,” she said.  

“So if you want Helion Day neutralised, you’re going to have to find someone else to do the job. Though I seriously doubt you’ll be able to.” 

Cue phase two of the plan.  

Because she may have hated Cassian, but she wanted the monopoly on causing him emotional anguish.  

Like hell some other pro was going to put a bullet between Helion’s eyes and devastate his bodyguard. Making that man cry was Nesta’s prerogative. 

“I have made it clear to anyone in my field you might attempt to solicit that you are a impertinent, trust fund brat, who insists on micromanaging the work of other’s despite your incompetence in an attempt to feel important beyond the breeding mummy lied and told you made you special.” 

“I wasn’t aware you also specialised in character assassination.” 

Eris’ voice was charred with a sweetness like wealth; earthy and rich it reminded Nesta of muscovado sugar.  

He was right. She was being unprofessional. But she was tired and hungover and out of a gorgeous lay so fuck him.  

“My specialities are no longer any of your business, Mr Vanserra,” she replied. “My displeasure however, should be of great concern to you.”  

“Is that a threat?” 

“I wouldn’t do you the courtesy of warning you if I intended to kill you.” 

Eris said nothing.  

“You can consider it incentive if it helps you sleep at night though,” Nesta continued.  “To do as you’re told.” 

She gave him strict instructions.  Wait five minutes then leave. Never contact me.  Forget we were ever in correspondence in the first place.   

“Murder is cheap, Mr Vanserra. You don’t want to learn the cost of disobeying me. It’s not the kind of thing daddy’s wallet can cover.” 

She emerged from the confessional, slim shades obscuring her eyes and the deep bruises beneath. Her heels clipping against the stone floor as she made her way toward the station of votive candles at the back of the church.  

Each glowing stick a prayer for a lost loved one. Matches and and a few unlit offerings still available.  

She lit herself a cigarette on a flame.  

And Nesta couldn’t have missed the fresco above those colossal doors of oak and rustic gold flake even through the plumes of smoke that curled upwards as she stalked lazily down the isle:  a depiction of the Heavenly Father himself.  

She didn’t bother flicking a glance behind her to the confessional.  

Who’s your daddy, now?  

- 

She’d collapsed face down into already rumpled sheets.  

They’d smelled like sex and heaven and she’d smelt like cigarettes and a church and that was all she knew before the exhaustion caught up with her, the world went black, and she was waking up in exactly the same position . Vex’s fluffy tail swishing against her ear. The tickling sensation plucking her from the bliss of pure nothingness.  

Nesta groaned a little as she rolled over and pulled herself to sit up. Pleased to find she’d had the energy to take off her clothes. Unlike her makeup.  

“Damn it,”  she hissed as she saw the smudged mascara on the pillow.  

Not that the sheets didn’t need washing anyway… 

“Ugh,” she huffed, dropping flat onto her back again.  

She’d been awake less then seven seconds and a man had already ruined her day. Just thinking about him…  

“Ugh,” she said again, louder.  Like she was angry with the ceiling for not acknowledging her the first time. 

Vex meowed, his little head nudging at her bare arm. As though he were trying to coax her bra strap back up to a respectable position on her shoulder.  

“Hi, baby,” she grumbled, picking him up for a cuddle. “You hungry?” 

He meowed again.  

Padding down to the kitchen she’d made them both breakfast (technically lunch, she’d slept in till almost one) and carrying her plate of fruit back upstairs to draw a bubble bath he winded between her ankles, catching her attention as he hissed at something in the living room.  

“What?” she inquired, looking down at him before tilting her head to follow his own.  

Cassian’s jacket.  

Uhg.  

Now she was thinking about him again.  

Childish, dumb, insecure little prick. How he’d had the fucking nerve to call her a coward was truly a mystery.  

He was so crippled by that fear of not being good enough he’d immediately presumed she wanted rid of him. Lashing out defensively- God he was infuriating.  

She looked back to Vex who was now staring up at her. “If that thing somehow ends up on the floor,” she said, “you have permission to piss on it”. 

He purred.  

Vex truly was the only boy worth his salt. Something he proved yet again in hopping atop her bathroom counter and guarding her like a fluffy little gargoyle as she sank into the bath.  Opening m the window to let out the smoke of her cigarette so as not to bother him.  The sound of rain slipping something comforting through the January chill, twirls of smoke and steam visible in fatigued plumes.  

Another lethal habit she’d picked up from Aunt Ripleigh.  

The thought gave her an unpleasant feeling in her heart. Like a worm writhing in the rotted meat of an apple.  

Ripleigh wasn’t actually her aunt. But Nesta avoided her much like she did the rest of her family and that was what really counted. Besides, spilling blood together arguably made for a closer bond than just sharing it.  

Like Nesta said, not really her aunt.  

Aunt Ripleigh – initials AR, an homage to the assassin’s preferred weapon the AR-47, American hybrid of the Russian Автома́т Кала́шников, A.K.A the AK-47.  

Some mothers left their little girls pearls, or scrapbooks packed with baby pictures and the lingering scent of their perfume. Angelina Archeron had left her’s a Mafia assassin’s cell number.  

Of course Nesta hadn’t known that.  

Not until she’d found herself with her hands caked in something dark and sticky, her boyfriend’s skin stuffed beneath the lip of her nails and a taste in her mouth like hot rust.  

She’d been seventeen the first time she’d killed a man.  

Not a man. A boy.  

A few months her senior, Thomas been a child just like her.  

Her first crush. Her first boyfriend, her first love, and her first.  

Nesta had known Thomas was using her for sex.  Just as she’d been using him for his money, and wasn’t that what love was? Finding the gratification of your needs in someone else? In Thomas’s case he’d needed to get his dick wet.  In Nesta’s…it was more than embarrassing but half the time all she’d needed was a hot meal.  

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d called him in the dead of the night to hook up in his Porsche so she could sleep there instead of at home, where the windows screamed freezing air from their shattered mouths and the electricity bill was rarely paid.  

But one night Nesta hadn’t felt like earning his kindness. And so he hadn’t offered it. 

Instead he’d held her wrists, ripped at her shirt, forced his hands into her jeans. Pushed up against the bonnet of that Porsche by a lake in woods she’d torn through his face, her nails splitting through the waterline beneath his eyes as she’d kicked and screamed, blood pouring, his hand on her neck, throwing her head against the wing mirror. Heat spilling heavy down her jaw and neck from somewhere which had smelt like lose change.  

She remembers blood in her eyes and the taste of soft, smooth skin and a kind of rubbery strength between her teeth as she’d bit down hard until something had popped or burst or split with a squirt or a tear. She remembers spitting out whatever of Thomas’s ear she’d torn off between her teeth and something swinging into her lower ribs so hard one broke. She remembers the sounds that had been both of them and then at some point just her. 

Her screaming.  

Her sticky, disgusting face, stinging with every horribly wet sob and shriek. The shrieks that hadn’t choked to shaky breaths until she’d pulled herself to sit back against the wheel of the car. Clutching at her ribs which had only hurt so much worse when she’d thrown up right next to her boyfriend’s body.  What looked like a pint of blood glowing in the dust. His face…his head.  

It’d looked like a Halloween prop. Like dark jam. Like a brutalised seventeen year old dead in the dirt.  

And sometime after noticing one of his teeth in the dust, Nesta had realised how fucked she was.  

It wasn’t much of an achievement when you considered Grafton, Vermont had a population short of seven-hundred: but the Mandrays had been quite possibly the most well connected and well off people in its less than seven-hundred square miles.  And despite keeping Nesta’s name out of their sneering mouths through referring to her almost exclusively as “that white-trash bitch”, that population short of seven hundred didn’t give a shit about her.  

Didn’t give a shit she’d been top of her class with a place at Georgetown. Because Nesta could never have afforded to accept it.   

And it certainly didn’t matter she was a pageant queen when everyone knew the petty cash prizes were the only thing that paid the rent on their shitty one bedroom. Especially with things barely breaking even.  In spite of Feyre’s making use of their father’s rifle and sourcing for the butcher any chance she could.  

A too skinny child in the woods with a gun and blood in her braids.  

Nesta’s efforts to keep food on the table had always seemed to pale in comparison to that. But she’d never felt bad about it. Wouldn’t bother hating herself when everybody else was already doing that for her.  

Nesta Archeron was the cheap fuck that nice Mandray boy was messing around with. The gold digger with the dead commie mom and daddy issues. 

No one would have ever believed he’d tried to rape her.  

And she’d had no money for a decent lawyer- she hadn’t even had anyone to call. Not her dad, not a fourteen-year old Feyre nor Elain, sixteen and the last person she’d ever want wrapped up in something like this.  

Nesta had been desperate and vulnerable and jaded for as long as she could remember but she’d never felt as terrified and broken as she had in that moment. Crying alone and hugging herself tightly, she’d just wanted her mom. As cold and neglectful and dead as the woman was.  

“три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” 

 Her mother’s last words.  

 Ten numbers.  

 Nesta had somehow gotten to her feet, only realising Thomas had broken a few of her fingers when she’d tried opening the car door.  All but collapsing inside once she’d managed as she’d fumbled for her phone.  

 “три три два пять семь девять пять шесть три восемь” she’d repeated to herself, voice hoarse and wet and cracking as she’d dialled.  

 Ten numbers. Ten numbers. Ten numbers.  

 Like a phone number.  

 No doubt concussed Nesta had deemed it logical enough.  Her mother’s dying breath a kind of atonement for leaving her children with nothing in the whole word but a father that could watch his girls starve and go into the woods with his hunting rifle and whore themselves out like they meant nothing.  

 A life-line in the deep waters opaque with clouds of blood.  

 “Здравствуйте.” 

Those three syllables had been like a punch to the gut.  

Nesta had made a noise that might have sounded like “mom?” or the creaking of a damn as it ached under duress. She’d obviously known it wasn’t her mother, but she hadn’t heard a woman speak Russia since- hadn’t heard Russian at all in years.  

“Who is this?”  

Trying to pull herself together Nesta had taken a breath that had rattled, dripping wet and slightly wheezing. Everything was going to be okay. She’d been right. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Of all the phone numbers in the world what was the likelihood that the voice on the end of this one spoke her mother’s native tongue?   

“I’m- I’m Angelina Archeron daughter. She gave me this number I don’t know what to do I-” 

The specifics aren’t as clear after that. Like a jigsaw left out in the rain or soaked in fresh hot blood, the pieces, the details, they’d melted to mush.  

 A mess she’d held in her hands and wondered what the fuck to do with.  

What do you do with a dead body and the knew found knowledge your mother was a boyevik for the Russian Mafia? What do you do with her retirement package which contained nothing but the contact for an assassin working for the New York arm.  

Nesta had only known what she wasn’t going to do.  

Go down for murder.  

Aunt Ripleigh had told her what to do over the phone, instructing her on how to deal with her injuries and Thomas’ pulp of a body.  How to explain the state of her face and ribs and fingers and head. What to do with his car and how to speak and sit and and react when then police came asking questions about Thomas’ disappearance. How to get away with it.  

 Nesta had followed each direction flawlessly.  Consoled in finally having a definitive plan. Even a plan that started with “buy meat cleaver, trash bag, battery powered blender and bucket, with cash from dead boyfriend’s wallet.” Even a plan that got progressively worse from that point on.  

 Filleting chunks of a body that had once been inside her. Hauling a trash bag of boyfriend smoothie to the river with broken fingers.  The thick slop sinking almost immediately just as Aunt Ripleigh had said it would. Before she’d told Nesta to burn the bones and roast marshmallows over them.  

 “If it had not been you it would have been next girl,” Ripleigh had said. “And she might not have had your fight.”  

 “You mean she might not have been disturbed enough to kill her boyfriend?” 

 “Killer instincts, Anastasia. Is not disturbed, is talent,” Aunt Ripleigh had said. “Cannot be taught but what can be taught you learn quick. No whining. Like very good puppy with very sharp teeth.” 

 “Woof,” Nesta had said dryly. 

 “Stray puppy though, no? Is why you have no manners.”

 “You offering to adopt me?” 

 “I have pet already. And my husband is funnier than you.” 

Nesta’s compromised rib had punished her for finding that funny.  

 “But you ever want job, you call me.” 

 Needless to say that was not the last time she’d called Aunt Ripleigh.  

 Three weeks later and four months shy of getting her high school diploma Nesta had turned eighteen and moved to New York in order to “pursue modelling”.  

In reality she was doing coffee runs with a dash more arsenic than normal and luring prosecutors to hotel rooms they’d never leave. A personal assistant of sorts to Aunt Ripleigh.  

She had kept the mafia, the Bratva, at an arms length whenever she’d been able. Paying off the shitty house she’d left her sisters in with one less mouth to feed and not wanting their address in any files accessible to people with skill sets like her’s.  

And while working with Ripleigh had been a mortiferous riot, two gals shattering the glass ceiling in their industry and slitting throats with the shards; Nesta had developed expensive taste from the fringes of high criminal society. She’d cared less about the art of killing than she had about the art she could hang up in a penthouse apartment if she were in private practice.  Her lust for comfort winning out after two years or so at which point she’d gone freelance. Assisting in a few heists before getting in with a crowd of Nazi hunters for a bit, all the while keeping in touch with her mentor.  

Until Feyre had moved to the city.  

 Then she’d given up on the more dangerous antics,  selling out for safer and even more lucrative bets like CEOs and cutting ties with Aunt Ripleigh. Terrified if not a little paranoid of something happening to her sister. Which had been shit.  Because Nesta hadn’t had any other friends. Like, at all.  

 At eighteen Feyre was still as bitter and proud as she’d been when Nesta had left. As Nesta herself still was.  

 Elain had tried bridging her sisters’ relationship once she’d moved to New York but she’d had better success career-wise. Working at a florists before eventually graduating to a self employed wedding planner. 

 Nesta had kept her thoughts on the psychological tells of a girl jilted at the alter becoming a wedding planner to herself. Mostly because Elain was always brining her cake samples she’d stolen and Nesta wasn’t going to sabotage her supply of free cake.  

 Feyre on the other hand had gone about far less conventional means of making a living. The child was a force to be reckoned with if for nothing but her resourcefulness and almost objectionable will to survive. Fiercely independent and clumsily capable she’d taken a crack at everything while selling her art on the side. It was a piece she’d modelled for that had delivered her to true economic grandeur however.  

 Well, “modelled” maybe wasn’t the word. Her sister had essentially been used as a human stamp. Her naked body detailed with intricately painted swirls then pressed to canvas.  

 The work had been showcased somewhere high brow and had caught the eye of one Mr Rhysand Velaris, thirty-one and the sole inheritor of his late father’s worldly possessions. Among which were several millions of dollars.  

 Half of which now belonged to her sister thanks to a very reckless prenup on his part.  

 Though Nesta had briefly wondered if he’d spent at least that on the engagement ring.  A glittering iceberg that seemed to only glare brighter next to the stark black band tattooed just beneath it, a matching tattoo on Rhysand’s own ring finger. Because of course they’d eloped in Paris and gotten tattoos instead of wedding rings. 

 If Nesta had been closer to her baby sister she imagined she might have felt betrayed on some level. But as things were, Nesta wasn’t entirely sure she would have received an invite even if they’d had a traditional wedding, planned to perfection by Elain. 

 It was probably the worst part of her job. The distance she had to put between herself and everyone she had the potential to care about. A distance she could never close even if she decided to retire right this minute because the damage had already been done.  Nesta had become a liability to their safety the minute she’d moved here and started in this line of work.  

 She took another chocolate from the box she’d snatched from downstairs on second thought. Her supply already dwindling thanks to the rather depression freight train of thought she’d embarked on.   

That and the fact they were really very good.  

Cassian may have been a prick, but she couldn’t deny he had great taste.  

In chocolate, and women, she thought smugly.  Sinking deeper into the basin.  

A heat flushed up her neck that had nothing to do with the bath as she unwillingly remembered how he’d softly coaxed one of these lovely little parcels between her full lips. The drunk hunger in his deep brown eyes and what he’d done next, snapping her lace thong between his teeth-  

Her music stopped. Only to be replaced by a buzzing thrum of her phone.  

Leaning forward Nesta checked the caller ID before swiping across the screen to accept the call and sinking back to her earlier position.  

“I’m not in the mood,” she hummed dismissively, head tipped back against the lip of the tub and eyes closing. She’d known this was coming, better to get it over with.  

“When I supply you with handsome, rich, and eligible men, I do not expect you to break them!” Feyre castigated through the phone, and anyone might guess she were the elder sibling.   

Feyre indeed thought herself wiser and more worldly than both Nesta and Elain, and getting married hadn’t helped diminish her false sense of maturity. Thrusting her character into some weird sarcastic seriousness that mirrored her husband’s demeanour perfectly. It made Nesta cringe so thoroughly she was mildly concerned about getting wrinkles.   

“And I thought we’d grown out of sharing toys, but it seems both our expectations were thwarted.” 

“Humans aren’t toys!” Feyre reminded her. Not that Nesta didn’t already know that. No vibrator had never made her cum as hard as Cassian had.  

“And if you resented me setting you up with Cassian then why did you fuck him ?” Feyre asked. And she said fuck as though it were synonymous to stab or poison.  

“Was it to punish me? Because if so you did a spectacular job. He’s crazier about you than ever and won’t stop moping. The second-hand embarrassment is painful enough without the added agony of how annoying it is.”  

If he likes me so much why was he so eager to assume the worst of me? Nesta thought spitefully. 

It didn’t matter that she technically was lying to him. He didn’t know that.  

“You told me to give him a chance.”  

“And you couldn’t have decided you didn’t like him before having sex with him?” 

Nesta wasn’t surprised Feyre had taken Cassian’s version of things at face value.   

Her husband’s family were unimpeachably wonderful in her eyes. Meanwhile Nesta remained just another reminder of a time Feyre couldn’t have afforded the plane ticket to get to New York, let alone a town house on the upper east side. A cold bitch who hadn’t begged to join the weird cult that was the Velaris family and their innermost circle when Feyre had married Rhysand last year.  

“Oh I’d already worked out he was an ass by that point but I thought he could at least make up for putting me through the date. Not much going on in that head but he quite clearly had it all going on- 

“Ew ew ew!” Feyre interrupted. “One, I need this conversation to steer clear of anything anatomical, and two, do you have to be so horrible?” 

“You’re the one pimping out your friends, I just took you up on the offer.”  

“Ever heard of the third date rule?” 

“Didn’t you marry Rhysand on the third date?” 

Feyre sighed.  

“Cassian’s a good guy, Nes. It takes a lot to come out the other side of what he’s been through a good man and he deserves the world so-” 

“So why did you send him my way?” 

Nesta knew what Feyre thought of her. And if she hadn’t then this conversation would have made it very clear.  

“Because Nesta! You’re twenty-four and already a crazy cat lady! I’m sorry I tried to save you from dying alone and having Vex eat your corpse.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes.  

“Have you ever considered I choose to be alone because I like it?” She asked. 

Feyre sighed again, but it was softer this time, sad more than exasperated.  

“You’re not alone, Nesta,” she said. “You’re lonely.” 

It was annoying enough that she was right, she didn’t have to be so pretentious about it aswell.  

“I’m fine,” Nesta said.  

“You sound just like Cassian,” Feyre grumbled.  

“Well I’ve been smoking.” 

“I’ll be sure to put how funny you were on your headstone when those things kill you.” 

“I’m racing Rhysand to the grave, he has more cigars than I do shoes.” 

“He only smokes them on special occasions.” 

“And how do you know this isn’t a celebratory cigarette on account of you calling me?” 

“Because instead of saying hi you said I’m not in the mood.” 

“Oh so you did hear me?” 

“I hear you, Nesta,” Feyre conceded, disappointment weighing on her words. “Loud and clear. Have a good week.”  

She hung up.  

“You too,” Nesta said into the silence.  

When the silence replied she sank beneath the water. As though she hoped it might act as the cushioned walls of a padded cell meant to protect those who posed a danger to themselves.  

It didn’t. And that unpleasant ache didn’t go away. It never did.  

Worse than the dull pounding in her ears and tightness in her chest as she held her breath.  

But it would be nothing compared to the devastation of seeing Feyre or Elain hurt. The tender ache of keeping them at arms length, knowing they were at least there to brush her fingers against, was worth avoiding spending the rest of her life reaching for someone taken from her.  

Perhaps that was also why she’d wanted so fiercely to dislike Cassian.  

Nesta re-emerged with a gasp, her chest on fire.  

What an unpleasant notion, she thought, running her fingers through her wet hair and  sinking back as she took a slower breath. That she’d been looking for a reason to dislike him even after overcoming the minor detail she was going to kill his friend and client.  An excuse to throw in the towel as soon as she could.  Because it was just easier.  

Easier than accepting she was fundamentally terrified of keeping him around.  

Easier than keeping him around and seeing him get hurt.  

Fuck.  

Her being mad at him had been a cop out.  

Because yes he’d been a petty, insecure idiot;  but hadn’t she told him she was going to fuck and chuck him? Hadn’t she been at typically fast to get in a fight with him? Substantiating his insecurities.  

Nesta might have been furious at his calling her a coward, but he hadn’t actually been wrong. 

She’d let some subliminal fear convince her to sabotage things.  

A subliminal and blissfully irrational fear she realised because, Cassian, a monument of pure muscle, could definitely look after himself. He’d been marine corps for Christ’s sake. Not to mention she’d seen him take down Helion enough times in the ring while still working for Eris and the fact the man literally specialised in keeping people safe for a living! 

Nesta felt a weird and almost unfamiliar lightness in her shoulders. It felt a little like hope. Which was also terrifying.  

But she wasn’t going to the let the fear control her this time.  

 — 

 Cassian had ignored her calls.  

All three.  

Which was fine because she’d been stalking him for the past month. She knew exactly where he’d be that evening and doing things in person meant she could kill him if he kept up the asshole routine.  

Nesta’s platform stiletto boots clipped against the laminate flooring as she emerged from the elevator.  Stalking lazily through the top floor of the Illyria building.   

Even if she killed Cassian he was going to die happy.  She looked good enough to eat. Thick hair fastened back into a high ponytail, the details of her face were subject to full attention. Her eyes appearing almost wider and lashes lavished with a black like her jet thigh-highs and tied coat. Plump lips softly lined and shaded, she looked drop dead fucking gorgeous.  

Though it was what she was wearing under her fastened coat that was the real killer.  

Nesta didn’t uncross her ankles from where they’d flicked over one another as she let herself lean against the doorframe of Cassian’s office.  

It was wide open. No privacy needed when everyone else had gone home around four hours ago. The night detail on Helion allowing Cassian time to catch up on work as he had every night and well into the morning for the past month.   

“All work and no play?”  

Cassian looked up from his desk.  

“I can fix that,” she said.  

He’d never looked more handsome.  

Hair bundled into a dark band, his shirt cuffed at his forearms and a bit of scruff marring his chiselled jaw. A pair of slim reading glasses were pushed up his slightly imperfect nose and it was such a turn on Nesta was glad she was leaning against something.  

He looked a little exhausted in a kind of brooding and adorable way.  

It gave her this awful pining to massage those sculpted shoulders as he let loose a deep, tired sigh, arms folding across that powerful chest causing his white shirt to hiss as he leaned back into his chair. It was a fucking massive bit of furniture. But then it had to be to accommodate him.  

“What are you doing here?”  

Rude.  

Nesta pushed off the doorframe and into his office.  

“You ignored my calls,” she said by way of explanation. Making her way to the bookcase and running her fingers across a row of spines. It was mostly files, but she noticed a few novels as well.  

“You kicked me out of your bed at three in the morning.” 

She turned to find him watching her.  

His words were dismissive and effortlessly confrontational as usual. But there was an edge to his voice. And it wasn’t arousal. Even if his gaze caught on her boots and lingering there for longer than he’d probably care to admit.  

Nesta leaned back against the bookshelf, inspecting her manicure with an eye roll.  

“You’re still upset about that?”  

“Not at all,” he said with a smirk. Reclining back against the chair a little further, hips rolling and arms casually folding. Too casually. The dangerous grace of it speaking to the emotion that no doubt roiled beneath his bronze skin. Belied by that bullshit cockiness which grated her to the bone. “It seems I dodged a bullet.” 

“Oh really?” 

“The whole hot but mean cliché is one thing, but crazy hookup who stalks me-“ 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she sneered.   

She’d seen hints of this before. The rugged and crude act meant to cover up the insecurity she’d also been treated to.  

“Oh I’m sorry. I forgot you can’t ever admit what it is you want.” 

“You don’t have a clue what I want.” 

“I have several, Nesta.” He looked her up and down pointedly. 

The way he said her name. Even like this it made her weak in the knees while her fingers itched to choke him.  

It was all very conflicting.  

“Oddly confident in your last performance for someone so insecure,” she quipped lazily.  

Cassian rose his brows with a mean a laugh.   

“What do I have to be insecure about?” He said. “I didn’t hide behind a half-ass lie to throw someone out of my bed. And I’m pretty sure even your neighbours can attest to how good of a time I gave you,” he smirked again.  “You’re not a good enough liar for the way you moaned my name to have been an act.” 

The white hot fist in her stomach folded in on itself as it melted to a stickiness despite the misguided insult. She certainly hadn’t been putting it on Saturday. Every sound he’d drawn from her dripping with sincerity. Every moan and whimper well deserved.   

“You’re right,” she said.  

Cassian blinked.  

Nesta prowled toward him and hummed, “those, four, orgasms, were about as fake as my emergency.” 

The sultry softness to her voice thickened to something less affected at those last words.  

Cassian scoffed. Though there was something withdrawn and careful to him that hadn’t been there a second ago. Like a snake recoiling in case it needed to strike.  “Your emergency, of course. Which was?” 

“Nothing to do with you.”  

He shook his head, laughing bitterly.   

“Seriously, Nesta? You’ve had two days to come up with something now.”  

“You’re not listening to me,” Nesta slipped atop the corner of the desk, perching there with her long legs crossed over one another. The blade of a stiletto heel close enough to brush up his calf if she wanted to make him shiver.  

But she didn’t. She just wanted him to listen. To understand what she was saying so she didn’t have to say anything more because for fucks sake he was the one who’d acted up and yet she was here putting her pride on the line again.  

“It had nothing, to do with you,” she said slowly.  

A weighted silence settled like snow between them.   

Until Cassian took a blow torch to it.  

“Shit.” 

His head fell into those large hands.   

“Shiiiiiiiit,” he cursed again. “Oh god, how badly have I fucked up?” He groaned, looking up.  So humbled and distraught it was almost comical.  

“Irredeemably.” Her eyes flirted with the notion of a little smile even if her mouth remained unquirked as she propped her hands against the desk behind her and leaned into them to more comfortably watch him suffer.  

“I’d beg you not to tease me but honestly I think it’s the least I deserve- fuck.” 

“Like me teasing you isn’t the highlight of your day.” She rolled her eyes.  

Cassian laughed, pained and almost sheepish, which shouldn’t have been hot but god it made her blush.  

Keep your cool goddamn it. She wanted a little more bang for her buck where grovelling was concerned before she let on how eager she was for things to get back on track.  

“Want to flat out abuse me and make it the highlight of my year?” 

She was struggling to keep the smile off her face even as she said, “I’m not in the habit of rewarding bad behaviour. You’re a man, you get enough of that already.” 

“Nesta,” he took his glasses off, setting them down on the desk beside her thigh. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I’m, really, really fucking sorry I’m an idiot.” 

Nesta slid of the desk.  

“Go on,” she instructed.  

“A moron a fool a stupid, stupid son of a bitch.” 

Taking a step forward she was stood between his thighs. Picking up his glasses and pushing them back on his nose. Missing the sight of this hulking, powerhouse of a man in spectacles.  

“I’m sorry.” Cassian was looking up at her with those big brown eyes, and the bastard actually leaned into her palm.  

“Oh for fucks sake how did anyone discipline you as a child with those damn puppy-dog eyes?” She growled softly, furious.  

“They didn’t to be honest,” he admitted with a breathy laugh.  

“I can tell.” 

She slid her hands to his shoulders, fingers curling soft and possessive over the stacked muscle and palms pressed to his upper chest, stepping tighter into him.  

“I guess I’ll just have to do it.”  

Cassian swallowed.  

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he tried. Intoxicatingly deep, trying to maintain that arrogant and playful edge in a way that made his words all the hotter. The simmering ache he attempted to push down all but throbbing in his voice.   

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she returned, brows arched. Battling a smirk off her face.  

“Can I ask you to do something for me, then?” 

“If you say please.” 

“Please don’t screw around with me.” 

Nesta faltered.  

Those warm hands came to rest on her lower back, long fingers curling slightly into the fabric and coaxing her that last bit closer so that her thighs brushed against the edge of his chair and her stomach was brushing up against his.  

“I’m really into you,” he admitted.  “You’re smart and you’re beautiful, and at first I thought the whole hard to get thing was an act but woman you are genuinely hard to get and it is, so sexy. But whatever it is that’s holding you back, that made you wait a week to call me, that made you claim all you wanted was a hook up; I’m clearly not cut out to compete,” he confessed. “It got in my head, and that’s on me and me lashing out at you the other night that’s on me too and I’m so, so sorry Nesta. I need to know where I stand with you though. I need to know if you’re actually interested in me. Because I like you. But I’m too old for games.” 

The silence was so thick she could have cut through it with a knife.  

Nesta’s hands fell from his chest slowly.  

“That’s good,” she assured him at last. “Because I’m not a toy.”  

She brought her fingers to the belt of her coat and pulled slow and deliberate.  

Black glazed her figure with a gorgeous intimacy. The dress hugging at what little it concealed with perfection enough to make up for its lake of mercy. Long legs sheathed in those thigh-high boots, the item was short enough that a decent length of her thighs could be seen. Interrupted at the last possible moment by sleek jet as though she’d been dipped in oil of purest night.   

Cassian’s eyes blew out to sticky treacle behind those glasses.  

“I’m human, Cass,” she hummed, tossing her coat onto the desk behind her as she spoke. “Which means I make mistakes.” He swallowed as she sighed softly, her cleavage swelling a little with the motion.  “And that I have needs. Needs you can be the one to fulfill or not.” 

She slipped into his lap, straddling him, knees bent either side of his thighs. The corded strength of which pressed painfully and exhilaratingly apparent against the soft seam of her inner thighs and she was genuinely suffering from some kind of contact high. Every inch of him seizing up subtly, deliciously taught at her touch in an effort not to respond and yet it only revealed just how much she affected him.  

“Nesta-“ 

“Shhhhhh,” she interrupted. Hands cupping that ruggedly handsome face and titling it back to tuck her’s against him slowly. “But I want it to be you,” she purred against his jaw, tracing her nose up the stubbled curve. “Let me show you how bad.” 

“Someone could come back-“ 

“I don’t care,” Nesta murmured against his mouth. “I want you.” 

His eyes fluttered shut. And she felt his cock stir in those immaculately tailored slacks.  

“Nesta-” 

She could feel every muscle that licked up his stomach tremble with a drawn out contraction as she said it again, her hands slipping down to his broad shoulders. 

“I want you,” she purred again.  

He might have tried to breath.  And it might have rubbed up something uncomfortably nice in her lower tummy.  

“Say it,” she whispered, tilting her face so that the tip of her nose brushed up the side of his. Her breath hot on his stubbled Cupid’s bow and hands running down the solid power of his upper body, burning up through his shirt. “Say it, Cassian.” 

His brown eyes like cognac and magnolia were hooded behind his glasses as he conceded.  

“You want me,” he breathed.  

She grazed her mouth against his. Lips parted suggestively and an almost silent, utterly cruel noise escaping her.  

The length of his thick cock pressed up against the seam of her plush sex as he grew to full, hard attention in his slacks. Warm and thrilling even through her panties and their open mouths melted into one another hot and heavy, tongues caressing as his large hands came to her knees and smoothed up her bare thighs covetously. 

“Fuck,” he groaned lazily as her hips began rolling deeply into him, and her hands slid under his shirt. Fingers splayed, she snaked up the cobbled muscle of his stomach, the flesh burnished and warm beneath her touch. His shirt riding up to reveal the gutter of his hips, gruesomely toned and dusted with hair.   

“This is…such a…” he breathed, between the perfect and yearning motions of their jaws, a hand smoothing up her waist in a way that made her shiver.  

“Dream come true?” She hummed, kissing him wanton and unhurried. Dangerously close to becoming a brainless mess with the way his cock rubbed up her core.  

His groan melted to a laugh or maybe it was the other way round.  

“Yes,” he admitted breathlessly. “And a bad, bad…idea.” 

“Well you’ve been a bad, bad boy, Cassian,” she whispered filthily against his ear, before capturing the lobe between her teeth softly.  

She sucked and nibbled oh so gently and he expelled a breath so gravelly and masculine it twisted the hungry knot in her core tighter. 

“Nesta…we-fuck you’re good at that…” he groaned lethargically . “Sweetheart, we can’t…” 

“Why not,” she coed quietly, the sound airy and affectedly filthy.  

“We’re…” he choked as he took in the sight of her cleavage, pushed intimately to his chest and escaping the neckline of her dress like a plume of toothpaste squeezed from the tube. “Fucking hell Nesta we’re in my office.” 

“And I’m saying you could be in me.” 

She rocked her hips against him with a particularly cruel slant.  

The groan that escaped him made something flip in her stomach, tossing about whatever sweet, impossible to describe feeling rushed there at the same time at the way his head fell back against the chair as she worked him over.  The hot friction that rubbed against her sensitive core the cherry on top of the sweet, creamy, decadent sundae.  

“Besides,” she moaned, breathless and sultry. Teeth plunging softly into her plump bottom lip as she continued rolling her hips. Hands rubbing over his shoulders and providing her leverage. “You’re the boss.” 

“I think we both know…that I’m not the boss…right now…” he groaned. Almost pained.  

“Your cock a little much for those slacks?” She hummed, faux sympathy dripping through her mocking pout. 

“I thought you liked a tight fit,” she teased, still pouting but eyes smokey. Her toes curling in her boots as her fingers began work on pulling his shirt apart.  

The buttons popped undone with a sensual and pining tempo and she was moaning quietly into his mouth as she explored the panes and ripples of that powerful upper body. More than thorough in her hands-on assessment.  

Cassian’s own hands were keeping just as busy, massaging and kneading her ass indulgently before smoothing over her rolling hips and eventually coming to her lower back. His thumbs pressing to the small of her back either side of her spine and it made something tight inside her swoon. The touch so hot and the memory it conjured so good. His big hands on her as he fucked her from behind.  

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned deeply, as she began rocking into him tighter, hotter. The impression of his cock lined up just right with her aching core.  

“Hey, baby,” She purred, drunk on the friction that made her whole body throb and hum with pleasure and the tip of her nose brushing the side of his. Hands snaking from his exposed chest to either side of his face and capturing his bruised mouth with her own. Chewing on his bottom lip obscenely, the friction beginning to push her over edge.  

“Fuck you’re incredible,” he groaned huskily once she let up. Kissing back decadently. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed almost mindlessly. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nesta.” 

“You wanna show me how sorry you are?” she purred, sultry and low, mouth parting, forehead still pressed to his and eyes fluttering open to hold his own.   

Cassian nodded, dumb and silent and eager and Jesus it turned her on.  

“Yeah? You wanna make me cum?” She hummed.  

“Yes, yes, please.” 

“Touch me, Cassian,” she whispered against his open mouth. “Make it up to me, make me feel good.” 

Cassian’s hands slid back to her ass and she moaned into the kiss he captured her lips in as he lifted her with a sensual squeeze,  wrapping her long legs tightly round the tapered cut of his waist as he stood.  

The surface of the desk was beneath her before she could work out which way was up and his touch smoothed down her legs to her knees before she could take a a breath in reprieve from kissing him. Her legs splitting either side of his broad hips and his erection, tucked to the side in his slacks and thick and heavy and hard, pushed against the inner seam of her thigh as he pulled that band from her hair. 

“I’m gonna make these gorgeous legs tremble for me,” he pledged against the her jaw, kissing and nipping his way down to where her pulse throbbed for him as he a hand through the loose locks.  

And he began suckling at that sensitive spot just as a calloused hand slipped between her thighs.  

“Mmmmm,” Nesta moaned smugly, gripping at his biceps still sheathed in the sleeves of his shirt as Cassian’s thumb ran up the seam of her dripping cunt through her panties. The lace a flimsy veil between her swollen clit and his hot touch.  

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” he moaned into her neck, her head rolling back as he snapped her panties and began stroking his fingers through her soft folds possessively. “Missed those little sounds and your mouth and this pretty neck and perfect pussy.” 

“Then cut out the all bark no bite bullshit and prove it,” she breathed.  

“Yes ma’am,” he murmured thickly, the pad of his thumb coming to her clit and she moaned as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly. Her nails pressing into his shoulders, a few through the hiss of his shirt but the others carving crescents into the bronze muscle and tattoos like the meat of an apple.   

His forefinger began teasing at her tight entrance and Nesta’s breath caught.  

“Tease me and you’ll fucking regret it,” she warned thickly, and he pushed the digit inside.  

The intrusion was far from the thick, eight inches she craved, but when he curled his finger against a sensitive, swollen spot deep inside her Nesta keened aloud.  

“You look so fucking good like this,” Cassian breathed, husky and bestial as he crooked his finger inside her over and over.  

“More,” she demanded. 

It probably wasn’t clear if she was demanding more dirty praise or physical attention but Cassian was a good boy and covered all his bases. A second finger pushing inside her that second.   

She gasped as the snug walls of her cunt stretched to accommodate the two of them as he waxed lyrical about how hard her moaning got him.  Their foreheads level and those deep brown eyes lathering her with his earnest attention.  

“You’re dripping down my knuckles like a fucking peach,” Cassian told her as he thrust inside her over and over, the only thing more obscene than her facial expression and the breathless sounds she was making being the quite, wet noises his fingers illicited.  

He hadn’t let up on her clit, and at the exact moment he decided to start curling those two fingers together, he increased the speed and pressure with which he rubbed at her most responsive spot with his thumb.  

“Cassian,” Nesta moaned, her fingers running up the nape of his neck and delving into his hair, still pulled into that bun.  

“That’s it, that’s so fucking hot, baby, I want your cum dripping down my wrist,” he growled softly. Her nails sliding down his scalp.  

“You’re so fucking needy,” she got out, which only served to utterly delight him. His thumb working at her from an oh so subtly more intense angle that had a familiar buzzing low inside her threatening to pluck her apart at the seams.  

“Oh my god fuck,” she moaned. “Uhhu, that’s it, just like that oh my god.” 

“You gonna cum, Nesta? You gonna cum on my desk- Jesus I’m gonna be thinking about you moaning, long legs spread for me while you moan so fucking dirty for my fingers every time I’m sat at this fucking desk now, you know that?”  

His words sent her over the edge.  

Silently she threw her head back as her orgasm licked up every frayed nerve in her body. It was hard. And Cassian kept on working those thick fingers inside her and over her sensitive clit throughout.  

Fucking her dirty and skilled. Prolonging her twitching and bone melting pleasure.  

Until she was snaking her hands from where they’d wound through his fastened hair, and pushing him off her at the shoulders.  Falling back on her forearms with a shaky exhale, thighs still trembling subtly.  

Cassian smirked. And brought his fingers to his mouth. Licking up the length of the calloused, sticky digits. Eyes on her’s from behind those obnoxiously sexy reading glasses she had half a mind to slap off his face.  

“You taste even better than I remember,” he purred.  

“Then get on your knees.” 

Her voice was shaky but he didn’t even throw her another of those antagonistic and gorgeous smirks, just sank down. All six foot whatever, two hundred and something ridiculous pounds of muscle. Knelt on the floor between her legs.  

“Is initiative encouraged of am I to be strictly obedient?” There was that smirk.  

“You can use your brain,” she permitted. Still out of it. But still dying for him to touch her again.  “If only because I need to be convinced you have one.”  

His chuckle felt like fucking heaven between her thighs. His stubbled jaw rubbing up against her aching cunt as he kissed her like he meant it. Open mouthed and his tongue then slipping out to lavish her dripping slit before he began playing with her clit with the tip.  

Nesta moaned, chewing down on her lip once she located the dignity to quieten down so she could keep it that way.  

Her previous orgasm should have taken the edge off, but it had only reminded her already whetted appetite what there was to gorge on. Leaving her pining for more and disastrously sensitive.  

“Mmmm,” Cassian moaned deeply- though honestly it was closer to a growl which was hot- and brought those large hands to her thighs. Holding her open for him stoking the bruise-blue flame that writhed in her core and allowing him better access to her pussy.  

“Oh god right there,” Nesta keened. His nose brushing up against her clit as he licked up her snug entrance, teasing his tongue inside.  

He threw her legs over his stacked shoulders and obeyed, working his tongue inside her with shameful enthusiasm only emphasised by the noises he was making. Seriously he was putting her to shame.  

In fact if she hadn’t been rapidly approaching another orgasm she might have thought he was have more fun than her.  

Hands no longer occupied with gripping her black-clad thighs they came to her hips and waist. Coaxing her to slant forward at an angle that granted him an even more advantageous angle from which to eat her out.  

She moaned, manicured nails almost clawing into his desk behind her. “Mhmm mhmm uh,” she gasped sharply at the sudden relocation of his tongue. Cassian capturing her clit in his mouth and sucking on the sensitive bud as he flicked his tongue up and down.  

“Fuck, yes yes yes yes,” she was utterly breathless. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” she whined.  

Cassian fucking groaned and it was like he’d pulled at the knot in her stomach with his teeth.  

The muscles in her lower stomach twitching as she came, the cushiony walls of her cunt pulsing tight and the only thing grounding her to reality.  

Though she was just lucid enough to know Cassian was lapping up the nectar between her legs with audible and pleased snarls of pure, masculine satisfaction.  

Nesta couldn’t say how long it took her to stop seizing, just that she was completely drunk on pleasure by the time her body allowed her to at least try and think. She failed completely. Wasted on her orgasm, on Cassian.  

“Come ‘ere,” she said, breathless and doped up. Eyes barely fluttering open, heavy lidded and probably glazing over with unabashed appreciation as Cassian did as he was told. Rising to stand before her, thick arms winding round her waist snuggly and pulling her to him tight.  

His sheathed erection pushed to her sticky inner thigh and his powerful upper body, chiselled and broad and comforting, warm and hard and dusted with dark hair, pushed to her’s.  

His sharp jaw, like her thighs, was slightly sticky, and his mouth looked even more abused than it from the attention of her teeth. But the best part- better than his mid-sex blush or the way he was breathing all deep and powerful and hungry for her, were his glasses. They were slightly fogged up at the edges.  

“Apology accepted?” He asked huskily, like he was already sure of the answer. Like he didn’t care because no matter what she said he was going to have her screaming for him till they were both sick of each other.  

“Apology accepted,” Nesta confirmed. Splayed hands smoothing up his broad chest as she captured his lips in a wanton kiss.  

“That still leaves your punishment though,” she whispered.  

Cassian’s dark brows had barely risen before she’d pushed him back and he was falling into the chair again. Breathing deep and thrumming with a desire that destabilised him as he watched her slip a stiletto heel beneath her panties on the floor and flick them up into her hand. Prowling toward him and climbing into his lap. Hoping it wasn’t obvious that her legs felt like liquid.  

“Hold these,” she demanded, feeding the bundle of lace into his mouth, his groan muffled by the fabric and her hands making quick and embarrassingly eager work of removing his unfastened shirt. All but tearing it off his sculpted arms that must have been as thick as her thighs- his body was ridiculous.  

She griped his wrists before he could start doing something like feeling her up and brought them behind his head. Elbows out and biceps flexed, his hands meeting in the middle at the nape of his neck.  

Cassian kissed and nipped at her fingers as she plucked her panties from his mouth with one hand, holding his wrists with the other.  

He licked at his lips as though chasing the taste of her lingerie, eyes on her’s from behind his glasses.  

She wasn’t gentle knotting the lace round his wrists.  

“Oh,” he grinned, trying to move his arms.  

He couldn’t of course, the physics working against him and rendering it so his only way out would be pulling until the lace snapped for a second time this evening. Still, it was a fucking gorgeous sight watching him try. Biceps and broad chest flexing.  

Tied up and at her mercy she was dripping wet for him and slipped her tongue into his mouth as a little reward for how fucking hot he looked like this. Kissing him obscene and wet.  

“Safe word?” She murmured into his mouth.  

“Harder,” Cassian grinned. No doubt referencing her answer to the very same question the other night.  

Nesta bit his bottom lip, puncturing the bruised cushion subtly and she tasted blood on her teeth and his tongue.  

“Safe word,” she insisted once more against his lips, fingers winding through his hair with a drawn out and yearning pull.  

“Amren,” he groaned`. Then added, “don’t ask.” 

“Yeah we’re done talking,” she informed him dismissively. Unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops of his slacks with a swift tug.  

Cassian’s hips jumped beneath her and she unfastened the button slung low on his hips, pulling the zip of his fly down. Parted lips close to brushing.  

“Down boy,” she purred.  

“Bit late for that,” he breathed raggedly, jaw feathering as she slid her hand into his boxers.  

“God you’re adorable,” Nesta pouted, freeing his thick cock. Obnoxiously engorged and a dribble of pearlescence spilling from the uncut tip.  

“Now be a good boy and don’t you dare cum until I say,” she warned.  

And sank down on thick inch after inch of his hot, rigid shaft.  

Nesta couldn’t help the arch that slipped through her spine as he filled her up, the stretch so acute it had her eyes rolling back with a flutter of her thick lashes.  

“Oh my god,” she moaned breathlessly, hands splayed against his powerful chest. Thighs straddling his, her walls hugged him vice like and- Jesus, he rubbed up that deep spot inside her perfectly. 

“Nesta,” Cassian groaned beneath her. “You’re so… fucking tight.” 

Nesta rolled her head to the side in tandem with her hips, growing accustomed to the sheer size of him and eliciting a raw sound from the man before she removed his reading glasses. Fitting them over the bridge of her own petite nose.  

“No backseat driving now, sweetheart,” she purred a little shakily.  

She rose onto her knees only to sink back down again with a filthy twist of her hips. Repeating the motion again and again. Gliding up and down his cock with a tight and slippery friction that had her stomach flexing and his gaze heavy lidded. Encouraging, low noises escaping from deep in his chest that she wanted to bottle up and get drunk on.  

“Uhh,” she keened, dirty and blissful, hands on his stacked shoulders. “Uhhu.” 

“Oh fuck,” Cassian breathed huskily. “Mmhhm…that’s it…fucking ride me baby” 

Nesta felt a familiar heat fan at her core as she drank him up. Every perfect, delicious inch there for her to use.  

“Cassian,” she moaned. The sound tasting like sex in her mouth.  

She fluttered around him again on an upwards twist of her hips, his cock pushing in and out of her snug cherry with a delicious wet sound. Just audible above her filthy moans.   

Riding him was like sucking on a hard candy, that intense sweetness at the centre burning ever closer. And he kept running that damn mouth.  Gravelly and deep, lavishing her body with sickly sweet and dirty compliments.  

“Fuck that’s it gorgeous, just like that sweet thing fucking hell you’re fucking perfect.” 

Powerful and dripping with raw fucking desire his body rolled upwards into her, slick with sweat and chiselled sinew.  His cock burying deeper inside her. The sounds he was making just to top it off causing a tight fuzziness to tremble in her upper thighs.   

“Oh my god,” Nesta moaned, hands coming to his face and lips brushing his as so she moaned a hot, “I’m gonna cum,” into his mouth.  

Cassian groaned. Kissing her hard and deep.  

“Cassian,” she keened.  

She began bouncing deeper in his lap. Up and down up and down. His cock thrusting inside her hard and rubbing at her g spot just right while her clit grazed the coarse hair at his rugged hips. There was a bead of sweat gliding down the chiselled muscle that carved his broad torso, washboard abs flexing as he resisted release and Nesta felt the pressure between her thighs reach a fever pitch.  

Grunting he bucked violently beneath her once, twice, and she was undone.   

Nesta might have made a noise this time. Airy and hot and open mouthed against his neck as she buried her hands into his hair.  

He was so tense beneath her, like pure marble soaked in the heat of the sun. Trying not spill inside her as her walls flexed with every hot wave of pleasure.  

And once it passed his breathing was as ragged as her own.  

“You did so good,” Nesta whispered at last against his ear. Voice wrecked like she were experiencing a sugar crash. Nibbling at the lobe. Tasting salt on her lips and eyes fluttering shut at the heady scent of his aftershave.  

“Does that mean I get a reward?” he managed.  

“Something like that,” she hummed, repositioning herself so that her back was to his chest.  

“Nesta please. Just untie me, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered against her ear. Voice trembling like he’d shot up something good.  

Nesta only chuckled, head knocked back so she could hold his eyes as she rolled her hips. Teasing, tormenting.  

“The second you get your hands on these,” she brought her hands to her tits, giving them a soft squeeze and biting her lip, “you’ll be cumming and out of commission.”  

Cassian growled, watching her feel herself up as she rolled her hips in leisurely circles.  Sensual and dirty. The length of his hard shaft, thick and velvet smooth beneath her.  

“Fuck,” he moaned huskily. Nose buried at her throat and lips working against her pulse point with the assistance of his tongue and teeth. Just as slow and through as her hips. 

She gasped softly, grinding deeper.  

“You know how good I can make it for you,” he purred.  

“Mmmm,” she moaned quietly in agreement.  

“Let me take care of you.” 

“Cassian.” 

“You make my name sound so sexy,” he grazed his stubbled jaw against the bruise he’d worked into her throat, the sensitive skin blushing warm at the contact as he moved his mouth to another location and started kissing and nibbling there.  “Untie me, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want.” 

Nesta smiled.  

“Or I could keep you tied up and just take it.” 

Cassian growled against her neck as she tilted her hips forward allowing his cock to spring up, and sank down on him again.  

She moaned, loud and keening. Hands snaking through his hair behind her as she rocked herself up and down slowly. There wasn’t a lot of friction, but for now it was enough just to revel in how good Cassian’s cock felt. That last orgasm having finally takes the edge off.  

“Fuck that’s it grind for me,” he moaned. His breath was hot against her neck and she could feel his heart beat. Feel every deep sound reverberate through his chest as she moved.   

His cock rubbed up against her g spot, colours and stars bleeding behind her eyes like fireworks.  

“Cassian,” she whimpered lowly.  

It was so good.  

Hands fumbling distractedly she brought her fingers to untie him.  And he deemed it all the permission he needed. Tearing himself free with a growl.  Capturing her mouth in a slow and wanton kiss as those big hands came to rove her body, taking his time to pull her apart.  

His touch hot and calloused, Nesta moaned into his mouth as he ran up her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her tits. Massaging and glazing every inch of her with a rough heat that made her feel like she was going to explode. Her body a champagne flute dangerously close to shattering at the frequency of his hot groans and growls.  

“Right there, oh right fucking there baby,”  She moaned quietly against his lips, one of his hands rubbing her hip and guiding her motions while the other palmed at her breast.  

“Yeah? You like that?” He dipped his head to pull down the straps of her bra and dress down with his teeth until her cleavage spilt from the cups. Pebbled nipples tight and rosy in the dim light, peaking over the balcony of her bra.  

“Mmmmm,” he murmured against her throat, exploiting the sensitive spot as he made his way back up to her face and watched her plump tits sway. A hand running from her hip down her thigh and back up again to slip between her legs to stroke her clit. 

Nesta whined softly.  

“Cassian…more…” 

She kissed him sluggish and distracted. The two of them humming and moaning every so often until he started caressing her clit tighter and her sounds grew more frantic.  

“Fuck uhhu, uhhu just like that,” she panted quietly into his mouth. “Oh god uhh, uhhh more…more…more more Cassian fuck me.” 

She was on her feet before she could complain that his hands were no longer between her thighs. Pushed up against the edge of his desk, hands falling splayed against the surface to stop herself falling across the wood and legs split apart.   

“Oh!” 

“Good girl,” he grunted deeply. “Moan for me.” 

His calloused fingers came to her clit, coaxing her closer to the edge as the other gripped her hip.  

“That’s it, that’s my girl such a good girl baby.” 

Mouth caught open as though on a fish hook Nesta started seeing black splodges, the puddles flaring in her vision on every one of his thrusts. Deep and dirty and filling her till she was so impossibly full she spilt over.  

“Fuck fuck just like that oh my god you’re so fucking tight, cum on my cock, cum on my cock, uh, uh, uh.”  

Cassian finished inside her with a guttural sound as she came. Pumping her full one last time with a brutal snap of his hips.  

She was vaguely aware of his ragged breathing against her ear. Somewhat sure her forearms had fallen flat against his desk and her head hung forward. Hair falling over her face and back arched as her tight sex twitched and fluttered around him.  

Coming back to her senses took longer than she’d ever admit.  

“Is that cctv?” Nesta asked eventually, head tipped back and resting on his shoulder. Eyes flicking in gesture to the tiny little camera in the opposite corner of the ceiling.  

“Don’t worry,” Cassian breathed. “It’s switched off.” 

She turned her gaze to him.  

“Shame.” 

He let out an exhausted and reverent sound that might have been a laugh. And just as exhausted, once he’d pulled out, he fell back into the chair behind him. Trousers pulled back up but unbuttoned.  

Nesta followed in fatigued suit, working her dress back down over her hips and sinking to the floor, back against the desk. She probably shouldn’t have worn black… but the impending bill and judgement from her dry cleaner would be worth it.  

“Friday night. Pick me up at eight,” she breathed.  

Cassian grinned.  

“You like Italian?”  

Nesta rolled her eyes from behind the reading glasses askew on her nose, but nodded none the less. She was sort of screwed if she didn’t. Cassian’s adopted family were Italian on his father’s side. The cuisine was going to be pretty commonplace if they kept seeing each other she imagined.  

“What are you thinking about?” He hummed, watching her.  

Nesta smiled. Then crawled toward him across the floor. “How I still have that table cloth you call a dinner jacket at my place.”  

 “Was that plan b?” He laughed, snaking an arm round her waist as she climbed into his lap. “Hold my jacket hostage till I agreed to go out with you again?”  

“No,” she glared at him softly, nestling into the crease of his shoulder. “Though I had thought about wearing it tonight. Just your jacket and a pair of heels.” 

Cassian licked his lips as though contemplating the sight and liking what he imagined very much. “Next time,” he hummed distractedly. Less promise more pleading. “This was…,” his free hand roved down her side, the black fabric glued to her figure. “And these…,” his touch made her melt as he ran down her thigh and platform boot, her legs flicked over one another.  

“Lethal,” he whispered.  

Nesta scoffed. “You’re telling me. My toes are killing me.”  

Cassian hummed sympathetically, fitting a heel in his hand and guiding the shoe off her foot. Nesta groaned softly and he did the same with the other boot.  

“That bad?” He chuckled, starting to massage her.  

“Worth it though,” she sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder.  

  Cassian held the door open for Nesta to emerge out onto the street first. The cool night air whipping lazily at her hair. 

Their second date had been incredible.  

He’d taken her to Gnocco in the East Village. Proper Italian food, fairy lights, and intimate little corners perfect for flirting over too many glasses of wine and playing footsie beneath the table. Not to mention casual enough to see Nesta Archeron fitted out in heels, a snug black top, and a jaw dropping pair of jeans.  

Tactically quiet and effortlessly biting as ever, she’d been armed with passionate reviews on the podcasts she’d listened to or books she’d read that week. Asking him about his own week and listening thoughtfully in a way that had probably made him blush.  

If it hadn’t, then the way she’d licked at the creamy vanilla gelato on her dessert spoon definitely had.  

Cassian was far too tempted to slip his hand into the back pocket of her dark skinny jeans as he emerged after her, but he felt Nesta probably wasn’t one for PDA. Or more accurately, public groping. And he was determined to be on his best behaviour this evening. Determined to make her forget all about how shit-awfully he’d handled last Saturday.  

Not that he hadn’t given her a thorough apology.  

Consistency was key however, and there would be no lapse in his conduct any time soon when it came to Nesta. He’d lucked out so fucking hard in getting a second chance when he hadn’t even deserved the first with a woman like her. Clever and beautiful and passionate and god he had it bad.  

Had been thinking about her all week. Their date the only thing getting him through the late nights that were pretty much killing him at this point and the days spent arguing with Helion.  

Cassian had worked out who’d put a hit on his friend. And why.  

The contracts Helion was in the midst of signing were of a more personal nature that he’d originally let on. His will to be precise. In which it was detailed that upon his death, the pharmaceutical powerhouse that was Day Inc. should be handed over to Saoirse Vanserra.  

The married woman Helion had gone and fallen in love with twenty odd years ago. The mother of his child. 

Not that Helion had been aware of the that little detail until recently. Terminally ill, Saoirse hadn’t wanted the secret buried with her, and had gotten in touch with her old flame to tell him her youngest was his.  

Despite being well into his fifties, Helion behaved like a twenty-something at the best of times. But learning he had a son that actually was twenty-something had thrust him into a panicked play at accountability. Saoirse was going to die, and soon, but Helion would still have a piece of her, a piece of the both of them despite the estrangement that had haunted their relationship since the start. A piece he’d do every and anything in his power to do right by.  

Which meant Lucien would inherit his father’s company when the time came.  

But removing Saoirse from his will…it felt like signing her death warrant. At least that’s what he’d told Cassian. That it it felt like he was giving up on her.  

Cassian wished Helion could process everything in as much time as it took him. But time was a luxury not even the multi-millionaire could afford. Not with Saoirse’s eldest, Eris, trying to take him out before the will could be changed.  

As things stood, Eris was set to inherit anything of his mother’s- a compromise reached between Saoirse and her cunt of a husband who’d wanted everything in his name. The Vanserra court its own savage little patriarchy of snakes and vipers, meaning as long as Beron was around, what belonged to his sons, belonged to him.  

Still, Eris was the undisputed second in command and Beron wasn’t getting any younger. If he could take Helion out before any changes were made to the CEOs will, and if Saoirse’s doctors were to be believed, Day would practically be his by the end of the year.  

Maybe sooner. If Beron beat his cancer ridden wife to death upon learning she’d been left Helion Day’s company and why.   

He doubted anyone would put it past the bastard.  

“Hey,” Nesta’s voice tugged at his attention as they turned off tenth. “Where’d you go?”  

Cassian snaked his arm around her small waist, pulling her against him. “Just thinking,” he said. And as hard as he tried to push those thoughts away, something of them lingered in his voice.  

She raised a neat eyebrow. That little beauty spot above the arch lifting with it and the one beneath the corner of her plump bottom lip quirking just barely.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Tucking her tighter to his side as he looked down at her. “That’s because the only thing I ever think about is you. And when I’m with you, I don’t have to do that, do I?” 

Her blush was so utterly adorable it made him want to kiss her senseless.  

“How do you do that?” Those eyes like the smoke of ice narrowed in sincere curiosity. It was a little terrifying.  Which off course only made him like her more.  

“What? Make you blush like a-” 

“No,” she interrupted him with an embarrassed and chiding laugh, pushing at his chest slightly. “Say things, just say them-  like the only thing that matters is that you mean them?” 

Cassian smiled. “Not everything has to be done strategically, Nesta.”  

“Says the military man.” 

“And wouldn’t you say that makes me qualified to- okay fine, roll your eyes at me. Jokes on you because it’s actually very sexy when you do that so.” 

Nesta laughed, her head falling to rest below his chest as they walked.  

“Fortunate you say something to make me roll my eyes every five seconds then,” she hummed.  

“And that I know just how to make those eyes roll back,” he purred lowly in response with a roguish grin, rubbing his thumb against where her coat lay over her stomach.  

“Oh and you’re telling me this whole conversation wasn’t strategically constructed so you could use that line?” Nesta looked up at him.  

“Sweetheart, when are you going to accept that I’m just incredibly smooth?” He grinned. “Besides, that wasn’t a line.”  

“That was so a line!”  

“You’d know if I was giving you a line.” 

“Go on then. Give me your best line,” she challenged. Stopping dead and turning on him with her arms folded. Cassian didn’t let his arm slip from around her waist though. Kept it right where it was as he brought his free hand to tuck a lock of chocolatey hair behind her ear. Inspiration striking him.  

“Are you a box of chocolates?” he asked, gravelly and suggestive.  “Because I’d love to take your top off.”  

Nesta really had the loveliest laugh in the world.  

“That’s awful!” She put her hands firm against his chest. “How did you ever get laid before I took pity on you?”  

“Um I’m gorgeous and rich,” he reminded her, both arms now caging her in.  

“What a coincidence,” Nesta purred, their noses tucked against one another just barely thanks to his date’s shoes. No doubt expensive as they were tall.  

“No coincidences here, sweetheart. This is all fate.” 

“I’m deliberately not rolling my eyes just to spite you for saying something so cliché and dumb,” she murmured.  

“Fine then. Fate and your meddling sister,” he admitted.  

“Let’s not talk about my little sister right now,” Nesta’s hands snaked up to toy with the lapels of his coat.  

“What would you rather we talk about?”  

“I don’t want to talk at all,” she whispered. And pulled him down lazily to meet her mouth.  

Cassian moulded his lips to the perfect pressure of her own. Hard and soft, her mouth like velvet and her body pressing into his tight and loose in all the right places.  

Kissing Nesta was like brushing you fingers against the glacial softness of snow like flakes of glass. Irresistible and inevitable. Burning so soft at first before the sensation grew unbearably tender and acute.  It reminded you that you were alive.  

The movements of their mouths grew hotter, no less lethargic, but simply heavier. Like they had all the time in the world and planned to exploit every second.  

So much for not into PDA, Cassian thought, as she coaxed his mouth open further with her tongue, his own slowly swiping to meet it. And he did slip his hand into her back pocket then, giving her a fond and pining squeeze which pulled her tighter into him.  

The pads of her thumbs brushed at either side of his jaw as she arched a little, those perfect tits pushed against his upper body and he dug his fingers a little more possessively into the fabric of her coat. Bunching at her waist beneath his calloused touch.  

Nesta sighed sweetly into him-  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cassian swore.  Tame Impala playing from his pocket.  

“Looks like I’m not the only one who likes your attention,” Nesta laughed quietly, hands smoothing back to her sides politely. The little menace. Her effortless composure all the more devastating with her mouth kissed cherry-red and pupils blown wide as saucers.  

He fished out his phone, and declined the call.  

“Well you’re the only one getting it.” 

She rose her brows as though she were impressed, winding her arms back around his neck.  

“For a man who hates games you have game, Velaris.” 

“Would you feel less wooed if I told it you was just Rhysand?” He admitted. Rejecting his busybody brother’s phone call a far less bold gesture than if it had been work.  

Nesta’s little smile was like molten satin.  

“That makes it even better,” she kissed him again.  

Cassian kissed her back through his laugh, dipping her back slightly for a more indulgent angle, her arms lacing tighter around him to hold herself up. Like he’d let her fall.  

Nesta was the one laughing now and it tasted like gelato and champagne and sunrises. He nipped at her lip as he pulled her back up with him snuggly, and she brought her hand to cup the side of his face, the other at his tapered waist.  

“I should get going,” she hummed distractedly,  hand gliding up his body like she didn’t even realise.  

Her tongue caressed his slowly before he was muttering against her, “probably”, chasing the plush heat of her mouth.  

They didn’t stop. Not even as Nesta was murmuring a disjointed, “heighten the…suspense…keep you…wanting and all that.” 

“I’m already losing interest,” he purred gruffly, their jaws knocking intimately as the kiss became hotter and fitful, short breaths and hungry mouths. Her nails scraping softly up the nape of his neck and through his hair.  

“And you’re looking for it in my back pocket, is that it?” She whispered, and Cassian gave her ass a firm squeeze as either confirmation or reprimand.  

She bit his bottom lip, the nip of her pearly teeth giving way to a sensual sort of chewing that made his eyes roll back behind closed lids and his large hands wound through her hair to guid her head back so he could take charge. Kissing her slow once again but dirtier, thorough and wanton and Nesta keened almost silently.  

“Found it,” Cassian said thickly into her mouth.  

“Want your prize?” She whispered breathlessly.  

“Yes please.” 

Nesta slid her hand between them. Fingers brushing his belt, then lower- 

Cassian couldn’t tell if he was relieved or devastated when she slipped her way inside his pocket and plucked free his phone.  

She withdrew just barely from the kiss, switched it on and turned the screen to him. The device unlocked as both his hands tucked into her pockets and her manicured thumbs were tapping away.  

Cassian brushed at the curved beam of her high cheekbone with his nose, trying to see what she was up to.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Callander says you’re free Friday. Or it did.  Now it says you have a date.” She nestled herself back into him tightly, tucking the device back into his pocket, exploiting that teasing proximity to something else entirely and driving him crazy as she grazed his mouth with her own.  

“Congratulations.” 

Cassian grinned.  

“Tha- wait just to be clear the date is with you, right?”  

 “Yes, Cassian, the date is with me,” she chuckled. “And I can’t wait,” her humming melted to something wordless and heavy as he kissed her again.  

Slow and explicit he stroked his tongue inside and he swore he felt the flutter of her lashes against his cheek.  

“Cassian,” she breathed almost silently and it burnt his lungs like freezing air.  

“Can I take you home?” Cassian whispered.  

“May I take you home,” Nesta corrected between the sinful caress of their lips.  

“Please do.” 

She was kissing the smirk off his face like she could taste how snug he was and wanted a piece of it for herself. Like she were working at a marshmallow or strawberry lathered with thick chocolate from a hot fountain of the stuff.  

“Maybe you are smooth,” she whispered and it only inflated Cassian’s self satisfaction. “But we both know I like it rough.” Ouch. “Just like we both know you’re way too exhausted to have your way with me.” 

He pulled back abruptly.  

But his mouth had barely opened to argue when she gave him a definitive “don’t”. It was little bit arousing. “You said yourself how late you’ve been working. Have you slept at all this week?” 

For all her icy glares and hellish attitude, at her core, Nesta was kind. She cared despite her pretences to the contrary and it meant she noticed things. Like how despite his lively grins, Cassian was out for the fucking count.  

“That’s what I thought. You can screw me when I know you won’t pass out before making it to third base.” 

“The only one who’d be passing out is you once I’m through fu-” 

“Save that thought for a night you have the energy to see it through,” she said.  

“But I-” 

A quirk of her neat brows shut him up.  

He growled a bitter but accepting sound. She was right, of course she was right, because she was Nesta and a Nesta was always right.  

“Friday,” he promised. “I’m gonna cook for you, something fucking romantic.” 

“More romantic than that sentence?”  

“Look I may not be Keats but I know my way round a stove, so hold all sarcastic comments until I’ve fed you.” 

“I’ll try, but I know for a fact you’re going to make that very hard.” 

“How have you already failed?” 

“Shut up,” Nesta laughed.  

“You have the sexiest fucking laugh.” 

“So you’ve said,” she blushed.  

“And I’ll keep saying it if every time I do you blush like that.” 

“Like I’m embarrassed for you?” she countered with an arched brow and a cruel twitch at the corner of her mouth.  

“You’re so mean,” he grinned.  

They made their way to the curb and hailed down a car on twelf. 

“Want me to ride with you back to your apartment?” he said, opening the back door of a yellow cab that had pulled up for her.  

“That’s sweet, but trust me, I can take care of myself,” she promised.   

“Text me when you get home safe and sound just to spite me then,” he said from the opposite side of the door.  

“I will. But you better not be awake to read it,” She gave him a lingering kiss before gracefully tucking herself inside.  

“Night, gorgeous,” he winked, and shut the door.  

Her ride had just turned onto fourteenth when Cassian decided against hailing his own despite the cold. It was only fifteen or so minutes on foot, and he could probably do with cooling down.  

Though even if he had to trek through tundra to get home he suspected he’d still find himself burning up under a cold shower in an attempt not to jack off to the thought of Nesta like a fourteen year old.  

Stuffing his already slightly numb hands into his pockets he began walking, his fingers brushing against his phone. He should probably call Rhys back.  

The phone rang for a moment before his brother picked up.  

“Did you decline my call?” 

“Yup.” 

“Bastard.” 

“I’m sure Feyre will kiss your bruised ego better,” Cassian grinned as he walked. “Along with something else so long as she doesn’t hear you’ve been calling me names,” he added slyly.  

“Are you threatening to tell on me to my wife?” Rhysand asked, a little wound up by the allusion to Feyre’s kissing certain places even if he hid it behind an unimpressed drawl.  

“Are you pretending the thought doesn’t have you quaking in your givenchy loafers?”  

“On the topic of not upsetting Feyre, she’s demanding a family dinner.” 

He laughed deeply at Rhysand’s avoiding the question.  

“That why you’re calling?” 

“Partly,” Rhys said. “Work’s been…She wants to be around family right now,” he said with an all too familiar casualness. “You free?” 

“For Feyre?” Cassian said without hesitation.  “Yeah, I’m free.” 

He would just have to pull an all nighter on the Monday. 

“Thank you. And also fuck you for implying if it was for me you wouldn’t be,” his brother said.  

“Well you called me just as Nesta was about to slip her tongue down my throat so-” 

“Nesta?” Rhys interrupted. “I thought that was over?” 

Shit.  

In all the carnage that had been the last week he hadn’t bothered letting his family know he and Nesta were back on. The woman was a touchy subject and he hadn’t had the energy or balls to get into it.  

While Rhys had been able to excuse Elain’s inactivity when the Archerons had been at their financial lowest, he’d never managed to extend that same courtesy to Nesta. Maybe it was because the first time they’d met she’d called him a cradle snatching whore. Regardless, Rhysand pretty much hated the woman’s guts, meanwhile his wife was desperately trying to lure her into the inner circle of the Velaris family.  

Cassian may have been able to bench a number higher than his IQ but he wasn’t dumb. He’d clocked on to the fact his sister-in-law was using him as Nesta bait.  In all honesty he was loving it. Nothing made him happier than helping out his family, and if that meant taking out an intelligent, passionate, stunning young woman, then really it was a double-win.  

Taking a second to grind his jaw softly he was reminded to tread carefully. Not something he generally excelled at, but for the sake of his brother he could try.  

“I know you’re not her biggest fan,” he said. “But Feyre forgave her years ago for bailing-” 

“Well Feyre’s a better person than I am.” 

“I’ll say. She set me up with a smoking hot model, meanwhile you’re trynna cock block me,” he tried.  

“You can put your dick wherever you want, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

“I guess not,” he ground out. Itching to hit something at the implication Nesta was just “somewhere to put his dick”.  

“Cassian if you want to date a biblical plague in human form knock yourself out, seriously, god knows Feyre will be thrilled. And Azriel, your moping-” 

“I don’t mope,” Cassian interjected.  

“Fine, your stropping-” 

“Fuck off.” 

Rhys’ laugh was about smug as the bastard’s crooning voice.  

“Mor’s gonna kill you by the way. You put a two grand dent in her wine collection over a woman you took back the next week.” 

Cassian groaned, wiping a hand over his face. The only thing worse than the hangover he’d had Monday morning would be Morrigan’s laying into him on this.  

“Don’t you dare tell her,” he warned.  

“Fine but you’ll have to do it before next Sunday, you’re bringing Nesta.” 

“Hang on a minute-” 

“Feyre wants a family dinner and if you and Nesta are back on that means she’s coming,” Rhys said.  

“Boy you are asking a lot of me here,” Cassian sighed dramatically. “I mean I can think of a few ways to persuade her but most of them are illegal in a lot of countries,” he grinned.  

“I don’t care if you have to roofie her and strap her to the hood of your car, just make sure she’s there.” 

“Alright, alright Don.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Rhys growled irritably to Cassian’s delight.  

“What else were you calling about then?” He smirked. “You said dinner was only part of it.” 

“I wanted to ask how things were going with Helion,” his brother said. “Any update?” 

Cassian sighed heavily.  

“This a secure line?” 

“Always”. 

“The hit’s Eris,” he said. “Apparently Saoirse does pretty well for herself if Helion kicks it and it’s looking like she won’t last the year. When she goes Eris takes the lot so he’s trying to take Helion out before he can change his will.” 

“That little bitch,” Rhys interrupted.  

“I’m not done. Guess who Helion might be transferring that inheritance to?” 

“Is Azriel going to finally have the funds to build that sex dungeon?”  

“Not quite,” Cassian said. “The money’s going to Lucien.” 

“Lucien?” 

“Turns out the kid’s his.” 

“Fucking hell.” 

“Seems obvious in hindsight to be honest.” 

Rhys was silent on the other end for a moment as he evidently thought through matter.   

“You said might, is he waiting on a paternity test or something?” 

Cassian winced. “No. No he’s dragging his feet about changing the will altogether.” 

“Why the fuck is he doing that there’s a bullet with his name on it!” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Cassian hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m the one whose gonna have to jump in front of that bullet if he doesn’t get his ass in gear. But he…he’s losing the love of his life, Rhys. I’m trynna cut him a little slack-” 

“Slack Eris is going to have someone strangle him with.” 

“I’m handling it,” Cassian promised.  

Rhys went silent again.  

“We could always just kill Eris.” 

Cassian would have laughed at the unrestrained glee in his brother’s voice if the suggestion hadn’t been so tempting.  

“No you can’t,” he reminded him, ascending the steps to his front door.  

“Sorry, sorry, you probably want plausible deniability and all that- which is a shitty reason to leave a family business-” 

“What are you talking about? I left because I don’t like any of you.” 

“Dick.” 

“See it’s that kind of thing that made for a hostile work environment I really couldn’t foresee a future working under,” he grinned, unlocking the door.  

“You taught me words far more creative than that growing up, monte de merda-” 

“Desenmerda-te, and don’t cuss at me in Portuguese carcamano.” 

“I’m fucking Persian!” 

“Tell that to your pale ass like unbaked garlic bread, minchia,” Cassian retorted in Italian as he tossed his keys onto the skirting board and shrugged off his coat.  

“A fanabla!”  

“Love you too, tell Feyre I said hi.” 

“See you and Nesta on Sunday, I’ll text you timings.” 

“No shop talk okay, she still doesn’t know anything about-” 

“I know, I know, it’s not me you have to worry about. Feyre keeps asking me to hire her.” 

“As what? Has Cosa Nostra began dabbling in the modelling industry under your direction, baby brother?” 

“If I said yes would you come back to us?” 

“I’m a one woman man, Rhys.” 

“Jesus, it’s been less than a month.” 

“At which point you and Feyre were engaged.” 

“Nesta’s no Feyre.” 

Yeah, Nesta has enough wit about her to know you can’t go round offering Mafia jobs like candy, he thought to himself.  

“Whatever man, I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then.” 

 TAG LIST

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[rhysismydaddy]

Bad Boys of Persia: Part 2

Here’s part 2 of the Feysand/Elreriel/Nessian Persian Fic! It’s a pretty short chapter, but the next one is going to be long.

If you want to read the first part, it’s here.

Part 3 is here!

Masterlist

The plot is starting to thicken, but shit really hits the fan next chapter, so stay tuned!

As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to send me questions/prompts.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters... or the line I copied ;)

________________________________________________________________

The sun, that gods damned sun, beat down on Feyre as she pushed her way through the crowds of people outside the hotel. She already regretted leaving her bed; it was hot and sticky and crowded. 

But she was already here, so she forced herself to keep going. The man she’d talked to had told her to get salix alba, a traditional Persian healing herb. 

She passed by a few clothing stores, eyes skimming colorful saris and hijabs, before coming to a stop in front of a plant store that looked to have herbs and medicines.

Feyre pushed the door open, inhaling the strong scent of incense and mint, and asked the man behind the counter for her herb. He laughed soundly as she showed him her burnt skin, then gave her a small bottle of yellow lotion. 

“Put this on twice a day; it should help,” he said, still smiling.

“Should?”

He started chuckling yet again. “I’ve never had to use it, moon face.”

She laughed at herself before sliding some money over the counter. The vender shook his head and pushed it back. “Just take it. No one else around here needs it.”

Feyre smiled and thanked him, then left the shop, obscenely proud of herself for getting what she needed. 

Feyre stood outside the store, debating her options: she could go home and lay in bed, or push herself some more and go get groceries. She decided to go with option two, just so she wouldn’t have to bother with room service anymore. 

Even though she begrudged her sisters for forcing her to come, Feyre had to admit it was beautiful here. Especially the architecture. The old buildings were the color of the sand around them, all finely made and having details hand carved into the tops. Some even had guardian figures leaning over the edges of the roofs.

She walked down the street, thankful the sun had started to set. When she came to an open produce market in a large alley between two streets, she paused. 

Stands and stands of bright fruits and vegetables were covered by an awning of blowing fabric tied to the roofs of the buildings next to the market, giving the place shade from the sun. She started to scan the isles, passing by people selling produce she’d never even heard of. 

“How much?” she asked a kind, young woman selling loaves of bread. 

She just tilted her head. 

Feyre gave her what she thought would be the right amount and took two loaves. The woman gasped, then quickly gave her half of it back. 

Fighting the embarrassment off her face, Feyre smiled and took the change, then quickly walked away. Another reason she begrudged her sisters right now: they hadn’t given her any time to learn about the Persian language or currency, so she was bound to look stupid wherever she went.

Her mood a little less excited, Feyre continued to walk past different stands, pausing when she wanted to buy something. When her bag started to get heavy, Feyre decided to walk back to the hotel. She was sweaty and sticky and desperately wanted a shower.

She abruptly turned around, then cursed when she smacked into the person walking behind her. 

“Sorry, I-”

He kept walking, completely unfazed by Feyre’s antics. She couldn’t see his face--the hood of his loose, dark shirt was pulled over his head--but there was something about him... something dangerous. 

Feyre moved out of the middle of the aisle, but couldn’t force her eyes off of him. He walked with the grace and power of someone used to running... maybe he was an athlete? 

He stopped at the bread stand Feyre had just been at, head stooping to say something in the vender’s ear. The woman threw her head back and laughed, a light blush coming to dust her cheeks.

Feyre was frozen in place, watching him flirt and charm the woman. 

She looked at his face and smiled warmly, then said something and nodded to the customers waiting in front of her stand. 

The stranger leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The people waiting looked away, eyes lifting to the cloth covering the market. 

But Feyre couldn’t look away. 

Because what everyone failed to notice, what everyone had been too preoccupied to see, was that the man wasn’t after just getting a kiss. He was after the food. 

As soon as the woman had closed her eyes, everyone looking away, he’d slipped two loaves of bread under his shirt. It was so fast and casual, Feyre wondered if she’d imagined it. 

He said goodbye to the vender, then began to walk out of the market. Feyre didn’t know why her feet followed after him, didn’t know why she was so drawn to a complete stranger. 

He slipped behind an empty stand, then gripped the ladder leading to the roof, and, before anyone could notice, climbed up, disappearing under the cloth  covering the market. 

She was desperate to see where he was going, but there was no chance in hell Feyre would be able to pull herself up, so she walked on the street, keeping him in her peripheral. 

She was well aware that she was being crazy, but she found herself unable to stop. Remembering what she’d seen on TV, Feyre tried to blend into the crowds and even stopped occasionally so he wouldn’t notice her. 

She walked on the street below him, marveling at how he sauntered on the roofs above. Feyre guessed he’d been stealing his whole life. How else could someone have such confidence? She’d only stolen one thing--a lollipop from the grocery store near her house when she was four--and it had made Feyre so nervous she’d started to cry.

For him to have such grace, even after committing a crime, made Feyre anxious about following him any further. She forced herself to question why she was even going after him. 

Was it because she wanted to confront him about his thievery? Maybe, but Feyre wasn’t usually that bold.

Was it because she was always drawn to troubled souls? Maybe, but he didn’t seem to be troubled about what he had done.

Was it because of the way the bread vender had giggled and blushed at his words, looking young and beautiful and happy, and Feyre hadn’t felt like that since-

Shit, where did he go? 

Cursing herself for getting lost in her thoughts, Feyre rushed down a narrow alley, scanning the rooftops above her for his figure. 

It was dark now, and it was getting hard to see, but she thought she saw something off in the distance-

Someone gripped Feyre’s arms and pushed her roughly against the side of the buildings. She started to scream, but a heavy hand slapped over her mouth. She raised her fists and hit his waist, but he didn’t release his grip.

She was determined to not stop fighting, to never let him win easily, so she tried to hit him again. He grabbed her hand, reflexes fast as a cat, and pinned it against the wall above her head. 

Realizing she was completely trapped, no one around to even see, Feyre looked up into the face of her attacker with pleading eyes. 

And froze. 

He was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen.

He had harsh, high cheekbones, hair the color of the night sky, broad shoulders, and the most beautiful eyes, so dark blue they looked violet. 

He looked classic, exotic, and devastatingly handsome. Like he’d been carved by the gods. 

The only thing not gorgeous about him was the completely pissed expression on his face. 

“Why are you following me, girl?” 

________________________________________________________________

Nesta’s eyes snapped open, and she immediately took in her surroundings. She was in a small room, handcuffed to a smaller bed, completely naked. 

Awesome.

And she wasn’t alone.

The man that had followed and taken her was sitting in a metal chair in the corner. Asleep.

Nesta picked up a dirty pillow off the bed and flung it at him as hard as she could. “Wake up, asshole.”

His hand shot up and caught the pillow inches from his face, eyes still shut. “I’m awake, bitch.”

She rolled her eyes, then shook her hand excessively, rattling the handcuffs. “Take these off.”

“Say please.” 

Nesta debated ripping the headboard off and beating him to death with it instead, but figured she needed to keep her cover for a little while longer. “Please,” she said sweetly.

“No.”

She saw red. Calm down, Nesta, you can kill him later. “You’re a real fucking prick, you know that, right?”

He just shrugged,  not even deigning to open his eyes. 

“Where am I?”

He finally looked at her, those golden orbs boring into her with deadly seriousness. “Don’t worry, they can still track you,” he said bitterly before closing his eyes again.

Every thought, every word flew out of Nesta’s head at his words. She forced herself to not glance down at her heel, to the only thing that was telling her team she was alive. 

How the hell had he found it? What did he mean they could still track her? Was it still active?

She was about to start asking him questions when the door handle jangled, the sound wrecking her train of thought. Someone on the other side fumbled with the lock.

The stranger in the corner muttered fuck under his breath then jumped to his feet and flung his shirt off. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He gave her a serious look. “Shut up. Don’t say a word. Don’t make eye contact. I’m serious, Nesta.”

How did he know her name? What was going on?

He took the sheet and flung it over her, then sat on the bed, too close for comfort, and ran his hands through his hair, muffling the curly locks. Before she could object, he muffled hers, too, then had the audacity to pinch her cheeks lightly.

She swatted his hands away.

He ignored her completely, then leaned back against the headboard next to her and gave her a warning look. Nesta rolled her eyes, but forced them down at her lap. 

He leaned in, close enough to share air, and she thought he was about to kiss her when the door finally swung open.

She heard someone step inside, felt someone’s eyes on her.

Felt someone’s eyes on their rumpled sheets, undressed situation, and messy hair.

The stranger said, “My turn. Get out.”

The man sitting next to her immediately was on his feet. He grabbed the intruder by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Give me another order, Farshid.”

The sound of someone spitting filled the room, but the man listened, shoving him away and slamming the door. 

When Nesta looked up again, she was alone with her captor. Who was noticeably still shirtless.

Good gods, he looked like he ate small children for breakfast. He was tall, with long hair, massive arms, and broad shoulders. By anyone’s standards, he was gorgeous. 

He noticed her eyes, grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head, then dropped back into his chair. 

“Um, explain, please,” Nesta said, trying to fight the bitterness in her voice.

He sighed, then propped his head against the wall. “What would you like to know?”

“For starters, how do you know my name?”

“We have facial recognition software,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay, but how do you know my real name?” The CIA had built a fool-proof cover for her. According to her record, her name was Sally Jones. 

He gave her a cocky grin. “Sorry, Sally, but the CIA has always been shit at giving their operatives covers.” 

Nesta felt her face pale. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Oh, cut the shit. Your name is Nesta Archeron, you’re twenty-eight, and you’ve been with the CIA Division of Middle Eastern Operations since they recruited you at eighteen.”

How did he know all this? This wouldn’t come up with the best facial recognition software in the world, let alone whatever they had here. Unless...

“Who do you work for?” she asked.

He looked annoyed. “Mossad. I’ve been deep undercover for the past ten months. And the last thing I need right now is to have to deal with the CIA thinking they need to barge in here and control my op.”

Mossad. At least it made sense why he’d left her tracker. 

“Wait a second,” she sat up a little higher. “You’ve been here for ten months and you haven’t taken them down?”

He rolled his eyes. “Such a typical American. I don’t want to take down this ring. I want to take down their entire operation.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“They’re called the Shahmaran. They’re a human trafficking circle running throughout all of Persia. Their Suza op is just a small piece of a bigger pie. They’re responsible for the abduction of over three hundred girls. I’ve been trying to get to the management side of things to see who’s really calling the shots.”

Holy hell, three hundred girls? This was so much bigger than Alis had told her. 

“Why haven’t you?” she asked. 

He gave her a look. “They don’t exactly take applications. Most of the guys here were born into the business; their families have controlled the Shahmaran for years.”

“Okay, then new plan. We take out the people here, and then the bosses come in to see why all their employees are dead,” she said happily. 

He shook his head. “I’m not about to waste my entire operation to take out thirty guys. Even though they deserve it.”

“Then what’s your bright idea, genius?”

He grinned. “You.”

Nesta raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. Since you barged into my op, you might as well make yourself useful.” He ignored her look. “Every year, the Shahmaran hold an auction of sorts. Each branch, from all around Persia, brings a girl in for the boss. Whichever group’s girl he chooses gets a shitload of money and basically get to do whatever they want for a year until the next auction.”

He continued, “I have a lot of sway here with this group. They’ve never won before, and they’re desperate for the money, so they really need the win. And I get to choose who we’re sending.”

He wasn’t actually talking about-

“We’re going to sell you, Nesta. And you’re going to win.”

________________________________________________________________

Elain paced back and forth in her hotel room.

Feyre still wasn’t back. Her first day out and she stays gone the entire day and well into the evening? She wasn’t answering her phone, and Elain couldn’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened to her. Why did I leave her alone?

And she still didn’t know what to do about the woman at Morrigan. She wouldn’t leave without knowing she was okay and getting her away from that horrible man. 

So she paced. 

Calm down, Lainey, she told herself, using the nickname her father had given her when she was little.

I’m sure Feyre is just eating dinner somewhere. She’ll be back soon. 

And for the waitress with that horrible, jagged wound... an idea sparked in her head that had Elain grabbing her bag and running out of her room.

She didn’t bother with pleasantries as she went up to the reception desk.

“How do I get to the police station?” 

The man behind the counter jumped, then looked at her with concerned eyes.  

“Are you alright?” 

His question pressed against Elain’s already-frayed nerves. “No, I am not alright. Hence the need for the police.”

He quickly pulled a map out and drew her a path to the station. Elain snatched it and was out the door before he could say anything else.

She followed the path he’d drawn her to a run-down building, the Persian word for Police written in half-crumbling paint on top of the place. After pushing the door open, she went up to the closest officer she could find. “Hi, can you help me?” she asked, hoping he spoke English.

“What do you need, American?”

“I saw someone who was hurt, and-”

He brushed past her in annoyance. “Try a hospital.”

Elain grabbed his arm, shaking her head. “No, but she was hurt by someone. Isn’t that part your job? Please help.”

The officer sighed. “Who was hurt?”

Elain stopped. “Um, I don’t know her name, but she works at Morrigan-”

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“No, but you’re not listening, she could be in trouble-”

“Oh, she is. But I will be too if you don’t shut up. Now get out,” he strode off, not letting her say anything else.

Elain stood in the lobby of the station, dumbfounded. What the hell? How could someone be so heartless? 

She flung the door open and ran outside, helpless tears forming in her eyes. The woman needed medical attention, but that prick probably wouldn’t let her out of his sight, let alone go to a hospital. 

His words from yesterday played through her head, and soon Elain was mad enough that she was stomping her way back to Morrigan, a murky plan forming in her head. 

Twenty minutes later, she pushed her way into Morrigan, ignoring the servers questioning looks as she strode to the back of the restaurant and pounded on the door. 

The door swung open, revealing the severely-pissed looking owner. “I told you to not come back.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” she hissed, pushing past him and coming into the office. 

Elain was ready to give him the verbal smack down of the century, but paused mid-stride when she saw the server, soundly asleep on a sofa.

She was shirtless, a bandage covering almost her entire abdomen. A little color had returned to her face, and she looked immensely better than she had just yesterday. The owner walked over and draped a blanket over her softly.

“You... you took care of her?” Elain asked, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

He gave her a look. “Of course I did.”

Elain forced herself to remember that he was the reason she needed taking care of in the first place. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The police will be here soon.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You told the police?”

Elain nodded, hoping he’d get scared enough to not call her bluff. She just needed to get the woman out and away from him and take her to a hospital.

“Mmhm, and what exactly did they say?” 

Was he... grinning? What the hell?

“Ask them yourself. They’ll be here in a few minutes.” She forced her voice to stay steady. She’d always been a terrible liar.

“May I ask why you care about a total stranger this much?”

Elain bristled at his cool tone. “Because what you did to her is wrong and you deserve to be punished.”

“And you’re certain this was my doing because...” he trailed off, motioning for her to finish.

She started to doubt herself. “Because you didn’t want to take her to the hospital or inform the authorities-”

“Yes, because look at the lot of good it did you.” Elain wanted to punch that smug look off his face.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“The police aren’t coming. You can drop the act,” he said calmly, as if it were obvious.

“How do you know?”

He sighed, looking at the woman on the sofa with sad, pained eyes. “Because the man who did this to her is the Chief of Police.”

________________________________________________________________

Part 3 is here.

Thank you for reading! Updated with a new tag list (it didn’t work for some people)! Let me know in my box or the comments if you want to be added.

@sezkins79 @bookofmaas @graaaaceeliz @10divergentmockingjays  @azriels-forgotten-shadow @elide-lochan-salvaterre @facilisdescensusav3rno @wesupremeginger @mis-lil-red @rapunzel1523 @chemicha @illyrianbeauty @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @street-smarts-are-important @dreamerforever-5 @the-jin-to-my-tonic @lord-douglas-the-third

#feyre #feyre archeron #feysand #feyre x rhysand #rhys x feyre #feysand fanfiction #elain archeron #elain #elain x azriel #elriel #elriel fanfiction #nesta archeron #nesta #nessian #nessian fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #acowar fanfiction

[iamnesta]

2017 Recap: Books

At the beginning of the year, I had a Goodreads goal to read a total of 50 books. But as the months passed and I continually ran out of time for reading, I kept lowering that goal. Before long, I had reduced my goal to half. I thought that surely I could read 25 books in a year! Apparently, I could not. I completed 24 books in 2017, and many of those were rereads. Nonetheless, here is my reading recap for the year. I hope you enjoy it. 

(2016′s Reading Recap)

Bookish Superlatives:

fastest read

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

best ending

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han

saddest death

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

favorite ship

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas (NESSIAN!!)

best cover

One of Us Is Lying by Karen McManus

best sequel

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

best lead character

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

best supporting character(s)

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

best villain

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab

best setting

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

best plot twist

Warcross by Marie Lu

best book overall:

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

Below the cut, I have listed all of the books I read this year in the approximate order in which I read them. I have listed a synopsis and a review for each book.

Fear the Drowning Deep by Sarah Glenn Marsh

Witch’s apprentice Bridey Corkill has hated the ocean ever since she watched her granddad dive in and drown with a smile on his face. So when a dead girl rolls in with the tide in the summer of 1913, sixteen-year-old Bridey suspects that whatever compelled her granddad to leap into the sea has made its return to the Isle of Man.

Soon, villagers are vanishing in the night, but no one shares Bridey’s suspicions about the sea. No one but the island’s witch, who isn’t as frightening as she first appears, and the handsome dark-haired lad Bridey rescues from a grim and watery fate. The cause of the deep gashes in Fynn’s stomach and his lost memories are, like the recent disappearances, a mystery well-guarded by the sea. In exchange for saving his life, Fynn teaches Bridey to master her fear of the water — stealing her heart in the process.

Now, Bridey must work with the Isle’s eccentric witch and the boy she isn’t sure she can trust — because if she can’t uncover the truth about the ancient evil in the water, everyone she loves will walk into the sea, never to return. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Fear the Drowning Deep was particularly fun for me to read because it was written by one of my Creative Writing teacher’s old students. I was very curious about whether this debut novel would meet my high standards, and I was absolutely blown away by it. I loved the characters and the storyline, and I especially enjoyed the setting -- I really want to visit the Isle of Man now! The only reason this didn’t get five stars is because there were a couple plot holes and some explanations that were rushed or glossed over. 

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

I kept putting off reading Crooked Kingdom, despite having received a signed copy of it sometime in 2016. I was so nervous that it wouldn’t live up to the first book (Six of Crows) but I honestly shouldn’t have. The sequel was maybe even better than the first, and expanded greatly on characterization while still providing a compelling plot. This book was addictive and heart wrenching, and I definitely cried a few times. 

Something in Between by Melissa de la Cruz

Jasmine de los Santos has always done what’s expected of her. Pretty and popular, she’s studied hard, made her Filipino immigrant parents proud and is ready to reap the rewards in the form of a full college scholarship.

And then everything shatters. A national scholar award invitation compels her parents to reveal the truth: their visas expired years ago. Her entire family is illegal. That means no scholarships, maybe no college at all and the very real threat of deportation.

For the first time, Jasmine rebels, trying all those teen things she never had time for in the past. Even as she’s trying to make sense of her new world, it’s turned upside down by Royce Blakely, the charming son of a high-ranking congressman. Jasmine no longer has any idea where—or if—she fits into the American Dream. All she knows is that she’s not giving up. Because when the rules you lived by no longer apply, the only thing to do is make up your own. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Something in Between talks about the very relevant, important issue of deportation while still containing a cute romantic subplot. I thought it was very eye-opening, and I am much more aware of the impact deportation has on families. I also liked the romance aspect of the story, and was definitely squealing from the cuteness. The Barak Obama cameo was also pretty epic. 

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a strange package with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers several cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker–his classmate and crush–who committed suicide two weeks earlier. Hannah’s voice tells him that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out why. 

Clay spends the night crisscrossing his town with Hannah as his guide. He becomes a firsthand witness to Hannah’s pain, and as he follows Hannah’s recorded words throughout his town, what he discovers changes his life forever. (via Goodreads)

★★☆☆☆

I read Thirteen Reasons Why because everyone was obsessed with the TV Show and I like to read the book before watching the adaptation. I read this book in one day, in one sitting. It gave me anxiety just by reading it and often I found it hard to breathe. I honestly don’t know why I finished it. I think the subject of this book is very important and suicide should be talked about more in literature, but this was not a healthy way of discussing suicide. I only watched two episodes of the TV show and it made me want to barf. Suicide is not entertainment. 

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. 

Kell was raised in Arnes—Red London—and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

Wow! This book! Was amazing! A Darker Shade of Magic was an impulse buy for me, and I pretty much bought it just for the cover. I didn’t really know much about it, just that it mixed magic and history, and dang! I honestly fell in love with all of the characters, and the plot was exciting and surprising. I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a fast-pace fantasy. 

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

Lord of Shadows was probably my most anticipated book of the year, and it certainly lived up to all my expectations. I loved the broad spectrum of characters, and the diversity of the entire crew. I loved the new relationships being built and the whole shenanigans with the Seelie Court. I can’t say much because of spoilers, but if you’ve read Lady Midnight and are hesitating to pick up the sequel: don’t!! Seriously, this book was amazing. 

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han

Sixteen-year-old Lara Jean Song keeps her love letters in a hatbox her mother gave her. They aren’t love letters that anyone else wrote for her; these are ones she’s written. One for every boy she’s ever loved—five in all. When she writes, she pours out her heart and soul and says all the things she would never say in real life, because her letters are for her eyes only. Until the day her secret letters are mailed, and suddenly, Lara Jean’s love life goes from imaginary to out of control. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

I have read To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before at least once a year for the past three years. It is by far my favorite contemporary book and has the absolute cutest romance I’ve ever read. So obviously I read it again this year. It still makes me smile and squeal and cry, just as if I was reading it for the first time. (Also, sidenote, they’re apparently turning this into a movie?? I’m so freaking excited? So make sure you read the book before watching the adaptation!!)

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

I was so, so scared to read Always and Forever, Lara Jean. The sequel in the trilogy (P.S. I Still Love You) was absolutely fantastic, and I was afraid the third book wouldn’t be as good. I shouldn’t have worried, though, because this book was AMAZING!! Seriously, it had me sobbing one second and then laughing the next. It was a very strong ending to a phenomenal trilogy. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill ��� the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price ...

Dragged to a magical kingdom for the murder of a faerie, Feyre discovers that her captor, his face obscured by a jewelled mask, is hiding far more than his piercing green eyes would suggest. Feyre's presence at the court is closely guarded, and as she begins to learn why, her feelings for him turn from hostility to passion and the faerie lands become an even more dangerous place. Feyre must fight to break an ancient curse, or she will lose him forever. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

A Court of Thorns and Roses had been sitting on my bookshelf for over a year before I started reading it. I had heard really good things about the series, but I could never get past the first chapter. So after months and months of collecting dust, I decided to finally just push through the boring chapters and actually read the dang book. And I was...underwhelmed. I loved the writing style, the setting, the main character, the villain. I liked Tamlin, but didn’t love him. I hated Rhys, and didn’t understand why people were so obsessed with him. I thought it was a good book. Not great, not terrible. But I couldn’t understand how Sarah J. Maas had turned it into a trilogy, because the end of the book seemed so final. The villain was defeated, so how was she going to continue the storyline? My curiosity was the only thing that made me pick up the next book, and I am so, so glad that I did...

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★☆

A Court of Mist and Fury was much better than the previous book, in my opinion. It was different, because it was a character-driven book instead of being plot-driven, but I like learning about the characters and their backstories and whatnot. No, it wasn’t always exciting or action-packed (although there was some of that) but I still thought it was interesting to read and I thought Feyre grew a lot as a person (or Fae, as the case may be) and I enjoyed that. I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I finished the entire book in two days. 

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

[no synopsis due to possible spoilers for previous books]

★★★★★

This may be an unpopular opinion, but I actually thought A Court of Wings and Ruin was the best book in the trilogy. All of the buildup in the second book finally paid off, and we got the giant battle scene we were waiting for. There was still character development, but this was much more about the plot than the people. Also, my favorite character (Nesta) got be a f*cking badass, so I obviously loved that. The one thing I didn’t like about this book was the ending. It was kind of lame. But I’m not complaining. 

Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins

Anna is looking forward to her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more. Which is why she is less than thrilled about being shipped off to boarding school in Paris--until she meets Étienne St. Clair. Smart, charming, beautiful, Étienne has it all...including a serious girlfriend. 

But in the City of Light, wishes have a way of coming true. Will a year of romantic near-misses end with their long-awaited French kiss? (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

Anna and the French Kiss is another book that I like to read annually. It’s another one of my favorite contemporaries/romances. The thing I love the most about it is the setting, which is in Paris. The setting is kind of like it’s own character; everything about the description is so vivd that you feel as if you’re in Paris too. France is probably my favorite place in the whole world, and I was feeling nostalgic about my brief 48 hours in Paris, so reading this book brought me back to the place I love most. Also Étienne and Anna are cute so... hurray for sappy, adorable romances!

Lola and the Boy Next Door by Stephanie Perkins

Lola Nolan is a budding costume designer, and for her, the more outrageous, sparkly, and fun the outfit, the better. And everything is pretty perfect in her life (right down to her hot rocker boyfriend) until the Bell twins, Calliope and Cricket, return to the neighborhood. When Cricket, a gifted inventor, steps out from his twin sister's shadow and back into Lola's life, she must finally reconcile a lifetime of feelings for the boy next door. (via Goodreads)

★★★☆☆

Lola and the Boy Next Door isn’t really a sequel to Anna, but it does include a couple of the same characters. I was hoping for another cute love story, but was somewhat disappointed. I liked the characters, and I liked the setting, but I didn’t fall in love with them the same way I did with the previous book. Lola was entertaining and passed the time, but it wasn’t my favorite. 

Isla and the Happily Ever After by Stephanie Perkins

Hopeless romantic Isla has had a crush on introspective cartoonist Josh since their first year at the School of America in Paris. And after a chance encounter in Manhattan over the summer, romance might be closer than Isla imagined. But as they begin their senior year back in France, Isla and Josh are forced to confront the challenges every young couple must face, including family drama, uncertainty about their college futures, and the very real possibility of being apart. 

Featuring cameos from fan-favorites Anna, Étienne, Lola, and Cricket, this sweet and sexy story of true love—set against the stunning backdrops of New York City, Paris, and Barcelona—is a swoonworthy conclusion to Stephanie Perkins’s beloved series. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

After reading Lola, I wasn’t expecting much from Isla and the Happily Ever After. And while it wasn’t as epic as Anna, this third book was still fun to read. I loved Isla and the book split its time between New York City and Paris, so I obviously loved the setting. This book quenched my need for a cute high school romance and I thought it was quite good. But nothing is better than Anna. 

I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

At first, Jude and her twin brother Noah, are inseparable. Noah draws constantly and is falling in love with the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude wears red-red lipstick, cliff-dives, and does all the talking for both of them. 

Years later, they are barely speaking. Something has happened to change the twins in different yet equally devastating ways . . . but then Jude meets an intriguing, irresistible boy and a mysterious new mentor. 

The early years are Noah’s to tell; the later years are Jude’s. But they each have only half the story, and if they can only find their way back to one another, they’ll have a chance to remake their world. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★ -- reread

You guessed it... another book I read annually. In my defense, I’ll Give You the Sun is probably one of the most beautiful, heart-wrenching books ever written. I relate to Jude on so many levels, and I love her character development. Guillermo is also one of my most favorite characters ever, and I love his tragic story with all my heart. I always enjoy the mystery aspect of the book, and the different perspectives and time periods. It’s a book that I recommend to literally everyone, and so far they’ve all loved it too. 

My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick

The Garretts are everything the Reeds are not. Loud, messy, affectionate. And every day from her rooftop perch, Samantha Reed wishes she was one of them . . . until one summer evening, Jase Garrett climbs up next to her and changes everything.

As the two fall fiercely for each other, stumbling through the awkwardness and awesomeness of first love, Jase's family embraces Samantha - even as she keeps him a secret from her own. Then something unthinkable happens, and the bottom drops out of Samantha's world. She's suddenly faced with an impossible decision. Which perfect family will save her? Or is it time she saved herself? (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

My Life Next Door is a cutesy romance, self-discovery type of book, and that’s pretty much all I have to say about it. It’s funny and romantic and sometimes surprisingly serious and I finished it in one day. I read it over the summer while I was at the beach, and it does have a very summery feel to it. If you’re ever looking for a way to pass the time and want a cute contemporary/romance, this is the book for you. 

Finding Audrey by Sophie Kinsella

Audrey can't leave the house. she can't even take off her dark glasses inside the house.

Then her brother's friend Linus stumbles into her life. With his friendly, orange-slice smile and his funny notes, he starts to entice Audrey out again - well, Starbucks is a start. And with Linus at her side, Audrey feels like she can do the things she'd thought were too scary. Suddenly, finding her way back to the real world seems achievable. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

As someone with anxiety, Finding Audrey was really refreshing to read. Finally, anxiety has been accurately represented. And it’s all told from the point of view from a sarcastic, witty narrator! I really enjoyed how the book was occasionally told using a script format, as well as standard prose. I highly, highly recommend this to anyone with anxiety -- and anyone without it who just wants to read something well written and funny. 

One of Us Is Lying by Karen McManus

The Breakfast Club meets Pretty Little Liars, One of Us Is Lying is the story of what happens when five strangers walk into detention and only four walk out alive. Everyone is a suspect, and everyone has something to hide. 

Pay close attention and you might solve this.

On Monday afternoon, five students at Bayview High walk into detention.

Bronwyn, the brain, is Yale-bound and never breaks a rule. 

Addy, the beauty, is the picture-perfect homecoming princess. 

Nate, the criminal, is already on probation for dealing.

Cooper, the athlete, is the all-star baseball pitcher.

And Simon, the outcast, is the creator of Bayview High's notorious gossip app. 

Only, Simon never makes it out of that classroom. Before the end of detention, Simon's dead. And according to investigators, his death wasn't an accident. On Monday, he died. But on Tuesday, he'd planned to post juicy reveals about all four of his high-profile classmates, which makes all four of them suspects in his murder. Or are they the perfect patsies for a killer who's still on the loose? 

Everyone has secrets, right? What really matters is how far you would go to protect them. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

One of Us Is Lying was an unexpected page-turner. As new debut novel, I didn’t know much about it, except that it had been compared to The Breakfast Club and involved murder. This book ended up being really well written, with both romantic subplots beneath the whole murder ordeal. The only reason I didn’t give this five stars is because I guessed the ending almost immediately. But it was still plenty entertaining, and I look forward to future books by this author. 

The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness

Prentisstown isn't like other towns. Everyone can hear everyone else's thoughts in an overwhelming, never-ending stream of Noise. Just a month away from the birthday that will make him a man, Todd and his dog, Manchee -- whose thoughts Todd can hear too, whether he wants to or not -- stumble upon an area of complete silence. They find that in a town where privacy is impossible, something terrible has been hidden -- a secret so awful that Todd and Manchee must run for their lives.

But how do you escape when your pursuers can hear your every thought? (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

Okay. I will admit that the main reason I read The Knife of Never Letting Go was only because Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley will be starring in the movie adaptation of it. I guess I’m just superficial like that. But I also love Patrick Ness’s other work (A Monster Calls is one of my favorite books of all time) so I thought I should go ahead and start the Chaos Walking trilogy. I will admit that the book was a little weird, but I’m not one to shy away from weirdness. The whole sci-fi futuristic war planet was certainly weird, but I rather enjoyed it. Very entertaining, always keeps you guessing, and also somewhat amusing. Todd is... an interesting narrator. I’m very curious how the Noise will be represented in the movie. 

Warcross by Marie Lu

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. Struggling to make ends meet, teenage hacker Emika Chen works as a bounty hunter, tracking down players who bet on the game illegally. But the bounty hunting world is a competitive one, and survival has not been easy. Needing to make some quick cash, Emika takes a risk and hacks into the opening game of the international Warcross Championships—only to accidentally glitch herself into the action and become an overnight sensation.

Convinced she’s going to be arrested, Emika is shocked when instead she gets a call from the game’s creator, the elusive young billionaire Hideo Tanaka, with an irresistible offer. He needs a spy on the inside of this year’s tournament in order to uncover a security problem . . . and he wants Emika for the job. With no time to lose, Emika’s whisked off to Tokyo and thrust into a world of fame and fortune that she’s only dreamed of. But soon her investigation uncovers a sinister plot, with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

I wasn’t expecting to love Warcross as much as I did because I’ve never really played video games. However, due to its setting in the future, I found it quite easy to immerse myself in this world with its virtual reality tech. I really loved the different characters and how diverse they all were. And there was a Hunger Games kind of feel to the story, what with the gaming battles. I flew through this book and I definitely did not expect the ending. Totally didn’t see it coming. I am super excited for book two!!

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.

Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil's name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

But what Starr does or does not say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life. (via Goodreads)

★★★★★

The Hate U Give was by far the most influential, most important book I read this year. It is very focused on the current events surrounding police violence and the unfortunate amount racism in this country. It was extremely eye-opening for me to read about the community the narrator grew up in, and to see the world as she sees it. It made me sad to think about how this book is not just fiction but a reflection upon the United States today. I think everyone can benefit from reading this book, no matter what their skin color is. I think it’s important for people to learn about different perspectives, and I desperately hope that this country will change its ways. I also had a lot of fun writing a detailed book review about this for my English class... my conservative teacher wasn’t very happy with me but it was definitely worth it. 

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray

When a plane crash strands thirteen teen beauty contestants on a mysterious island, they struggle to survive, to get along with one another, to combat the island's other diabolical occupants, and to learn their dance numbers in case they are rescued in time for the competition. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

OH. MY. GOD. THIS BOOK. Y’all, Beauty Queens has got to be the funniest book I’ve read in years. It’s a subtle sort of humor, but I loved it. The entire thing is essentially a parody of the United States, and makes fun of our society. It breaks all of the unfair expectations society places on girls, which was super refreshing. The characters were extremely diverse and didn’t shy away from discussing sensitive topics. Every time there was a “commercial break” I started laughing like a lunatic. There were actual tears streaming down my face because I was laughing so hard. Please read this book it is so freaking good.

Taking Flight: From War Orphan to Star Ballerina by Michaela DePrince

The extraordinary memoir of Michaela DePrince, a young dancer who escaped war-torn Sierra Leone for the rarefied heights of American ballet.

Michaela DePrince was known as girl Number 27 at the orphanage, where she was abandoned at a young age and tormented as a "devil child" for a skin condition that makes her skin appear spotted. But it was at the orphanage that Michaela would find a picture of a beautiful ballerina en pointe that would help change the course of her life. 

At the age of four, Michaela was adopted by an American family, who encouraged her love of dancing and enrolled her in classes. She went on to study at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School at the American Ballet Theatre and is currently a member of the Dutch National Ballet’s junior company. She has appeared in the ballet documentary "First Position," as well as on "Dancing with the Stars, Good Morning America," and "Nightline."

In this engaging, moving, and unforgettable memoir, Michaela shares her dramatic journey from an orphan in West Africa to becoming one of ballet's most exciting rising stars. (via Goodreads)

★★★★☆

I had to read a biography/autobiography as an assignment for school, and I am so glad that I chose Taking Flight. I was absolutely blown away by the things Michaela has lived through, and to read about her struggles and successes was very emotional for me. I don’t think you have to be a dancer to enjoy this book, although I certainly appreciated all the references to specific ballets and specific variations/choreography. I think it’s a truly amazing story that can inspire anyone, whether they’re a dancer or not. 

Animal Farm by George Orwell

As ferociously fresh as it was more than a half century ago, this remarkable allegory of a downtrodden society of overworked, mistreated animals, and their quest to create a paradise of progress, justice, and equality is one of the most scathing satires ever published. As we witness the rise and bloody fall of the revolutionary animals, we begin to recognize the seeds of totalitarianism in the most idealistic organization; and in our most charismatic leaders, the souls of our cruelest oppressors. (via Goodreads)

★★★☆☆

Animal Farm was an assignment for school, but I didn’t hate it as much as I usually hate school assignments. It pains me to admit this, but it was actually a pretty decent book. A little weird, what with the talking animals, but not bad. I do wish it had a more concrete ending. It ended rather abruptly. (Although I suppose that was the point.)

If you actually read this whole thing (or at least skimmed through it) I would like to say THANK YOU!! I love you all so much, and I am so grateful for each and every one of my followers. I hope everyone has a fantastic 2018 💜💜

#holy crap this took forever to make #please read at least some of it lol #books #ya books #young adult #ya #reading #booklr #fandom #the shadowhunter chronicles #lord of shadows #crooked kingdom #six of crows #the hate u give #warcross #chaos walking #the knife of never letting go #one of us is lying #finding audrey #i'll give you the sun #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #to all the boys i've loved before #always and forever lara jean

[irescot]

Scotland Tour - Day 4 (8/30)

Today's schedule takes us to the Isle of Skye via the ferry, then a drive up the Sleat Peninsula in Skye to admire the scenery and then have lunch.  Then back to the mainland via a bridge with scenic views of Eilean Donan Castle. Then on past the lochs and glens of the Scottish Highlands to visit the Culloden battlefield.  Then back to Laggan House.

Forgot to tell you that last night we had dinner at Laggan House and it was mixed. The entry I ordered was Mushroom Stroganoff, and being stupid I thought that meant Beef Stroganoff with mushrooms.  But it was mushrooms with stroganoff sauce.  I managed to eat all of it because I was hungry, but I saw one of the other people at the table who had ordered the same thing, just push everything around in the plate, as you do when you want to conceal that you haven't eaten everything.  Fortunately her grandson had some penne pasta made for him and he didn't care for it, so when we suggested she have the stroganoff sauce (which was quite good) with some of the penne, she was a happy eater.

Last night they passed a menu around and asked us to order for today's dinner. We were supposed to put our names and what we wanted, and also to sit tonight in the same table we sat at last night. We speculated that allowed them to purchase things for the meal without having to guess and waste food, and it allowed to make the serving more efficient. Whatever.

I couldn't resist taking another picture of the beautiful view out the front door and out the side.  Then on the coach for a visit to the isle of Skye.

Skye takes its name from the old Norse sky-a, meaning "cloud island," a Viking reference to the often mist-enshrouded Cuillin (seems to be pronounce Coleen, but don't trust me on this) Hills.  It's the second largest of Scotland's islands, being 50 miles long.  It has velvet moors, jagged mountains, sparkling lochs and towering sea cliffs, which are the island's main attraction. Have to tell you right now we didn't see any towering sea cliffs.  Along with Edinburgh and Loch Ness, Skye is one of Scotland's top three tourist destinations.

For those who like climbing, it has 12 Munros.  A Munro is a mountain in Scotland that is over 3000 ft; they are named after Sir Hugh Munro who produced the first list of such hills, known as Munro Tables.  Currently, there are 282 of them.  Munro bagging refers to the practice of trying to climb ALL of the Munros on the list.  

All this talk of Munros reminds me of a movie from 1995 with Hugh Grant called "The Man Who Went up a Hill and Walked Down a Mountain," a delightful tale of a couple of cartographers in the early 1900's who went to a Welsh village to measure its mountain, only to find it a little bit short of 1000 ft, which was the official designation for a mountain. They have to tell the villagers the bad news that they only have a hill.  I remember enjoying the movie and not much else.

As usual today, lots of pictures of landscapes, with and without reflections and some part of Kathy's hand.  Also pictures of heather, which for me has always meant the Scottish Highlands. Lots of lochs all around.

We traveled to Glenfinnan to see the monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Glenfinnan Viaduct. The monument consists of a tower with the statue of a highlander atop it.  The monument was erected in 1815, but it was just the tower part.  The highlander was added 20 years later.  It's considered that it was Bonnie Prince Charlie, a Steward pretender to the throne of England and Scotland, but it is also referred to as "an anonymous highlander."  Pick the story you prefer.  The tower stands at the head of Loch Shiel.

On the opposite direction, going right to the stone border of the visitor's center you can get a bit of a view of the Glenfinnan Viaduct, that is the bridge the The Hogwarts Express is seen in several of the Harry Potter movies.  

We continued on to the port of Mallaig, to take the ferry that would take us across the Sound of Sleat to the port of Armadale in the Isle of Skye.  We passed by a strange little monument to people that were lost at sea.  

Gary went to get us ferry tickets as pedestrians and when he came back, he distributed the tickets and we all got off the bus.  The bus was parked in the lower level of the ferry along with two other ones, while we went to the upper levels.  There was not much to see during the 30 minute crossing because we didn't go to the top deck since it was drizzling and the deck we were on offered hot chocolate, one of my favorites.  

I did go to a little walkway outside that let me take some pictures out the back of the ferry; one of a statue on the pier of a fisherman and a young boy/girl (?) pointing out to sea and several of the receding shoreline.

On Armadale the process was reversed and we filed onto the bus and off we went to visit Skye. We were going to the village of Portree, which is the capital of the island.  It hosts the islands biggest event, the Skye Highland Games.  These are events that many of us have only seen in the movies or news, like Tossing the Caber (a tree trunk), Putting the Stone (instead of putting a shot it's a very heavy stone with a rough handle), 56 lb over the bar (competitor stands underneath a bar that is raised periodically, and throws a 56 lb weight over his shoulder backwards that has to go over the bar); there is also racing, dancing, and piping, in case you thought it was all just brute strength.  

At one point we passed a thatched house, and Gary told us that thatching was a specialized skill, and that when done correctly created a roof that would last for 25-30 years.  This particular one had weights attached at intervals, to make sure it did not get blown away.

Then finally we arrived at Portree and I seem to have taken no pictures of it (was I unconscious? how odd!). I seem to remember having lunch there...maybe.

Then we headed back to the mainland, first stopping at the port Kyleakin, which had views of the Skye Bridge over which we would leave Skye.  On the other side from the harbor, I saw this old ruin, which turned out to be Dunakin Castle.

And then we were on the mainland and shortly after we were at Eilean Donnan castle. As far as I'm concerned, this is famous for being famous (sort of like Paris Hilton). The original 13th C castle was bombed out of existence and was is there now is a early 1900's reconstruction. But I had a responsibility to photograph it.

Our next stop was Loch Ness, to see if we could spot Nessie, something no one has been able to do.  Instead, we saw the loch and a gift store with all kinds of thing Nessian.  There were a series of steps down by a "statue of Nessie" which looked to steep and numerous for me.  At this point my feet hurt and my cold was acting out again, mostly because the coach was too cold for me.  

And then it was back to Laggan House. A few more landscapes, a couple of pictures of houses in the area (most of the houses we saw in the rural areas had dishes), and so on.

When we reached Laggan House I was exhausted, my feet hurt, and my cold was worsening when it had been getting somewhat better, so I decided I was going to sleep as soon as I could.  Not being hungry I just took out what I was wearing the next day and packed everything else I could, and went to glorious sleep.

And that was it for the 4th day of the Scotland tour.

[snelbz]

Isn't She Lovely {8}

Summary: Cassian, a single father, tries online dating for a one night stand and gets more than he bargains for. Nesta, a former professional ballet dancer, opens her own studio in her new hometown of Velaris and finds that she knows one of her students’ fathers from a night of utter regret.

Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. NSFW.

A collab with @theladyofdeath.

It took her nearly an hour to run home from Cassian’s shop, barely stopping to breathe, not even thinking to grab her keys from him. The second he asked her to come home with him, every thought, every noise in her head eddied out.

She wanted to. She realized she wanted to go home with him, to not have to run out after he’d given her another mind-numbing orgasm, to lay there and bask in the post sex haze. She’d wanted to spend time with him, not just orgasms. It terrified her.

After the kiss they shared in Rhysand’s kitchen, after they hadn’t spoken in five days, Nesta was slowly accepting that it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. She wanted to know what it was like to fall asleep in his arms, to know what it was like to wake up to his peaceful, sleeping face. Did he snore or did he like to cuddle?

And after they’d had sex in her car, Nesta was even more lost in her own head and in her heart.

Because even if it seemed like it could be easy, even if it seemed like they could give each other a try, it wasn’t just about the two of them.

They had Arya to think about.

She was still sitting on her front porch, locked out, when Cassian pulled up in front of her house with her car thirty minutes later.

“I don’t remember giving you my address,” she said, smiling softly.

He didn’t return it as he climbed out. “Called your sisters. They were more than willing to pass it on to me.” With slow footsteps, he walked up the wooden porch stairs, his boots thudding heavily. “What’s happening here, Nes, huh? What’s going on between us?”

He didn’t sit next to her.

He stayed standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

He didn’t look like the carefree man she’d come to know, the man that made her laugh when she didn’t want to.

He was angry.

Confused.

Hurt.

“I don’t-.”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know,” he interrupted, eyes ablaze. “At this point, that’s an unacceptable answer. If you don’t feel the way that I do, Nesta, then tell me. Alright? Don’t string me along and make me think that there’s more happening here than there is.”

If you don’t feel the way that I do.

Nesta wanted desperately to ask what it was that he felt, but what came out instead was, “This was just supposed to be about sex.”

He laughed, a low humorless sound. He didn’t meet her eyes as he shook his head. “This stopped being about sex when you let me kiss you in the kitchen.”

For me, it was before that. She couldn’t tell him that though. Instead, Nesta dared to ask, “Why?”

Cassian just shook his head. He ignored her question and said, “I need you to tell me how you feel and what’s going on here. I need to know.”

For a moment, Nesta didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. She stared at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. It was getting difficult to breathe, difficult to hold back tears. It was only supposed to be sex, to feel good, to get off. It wasn’t supposed to turn into anything so complicated.

But it had.

When it was clear he wasn’t getting an answer, Cassian dropped her keys and huffed, making is way back down the front porch steps. Her keys clanged as they landed on the wooden boards he’d vacated before making his way toward the sidewalk with a thud.

He was going to walk back.

He’d come here with her car to have a meaningful conversation. He wanted to come see who they were, what they were, if they maybe had a future.

Nesta frowned, frustrated.

Why couldn’t she at least give him an answer?

It had never been one of her strengths.

But no one had ever made her feel like Cassian had, either.

She ran off her porch, catching up with him. “Cassian, wait.”

She gripped his hand and he stilled, standing in the middle of her little front yard.

“It’s not just about sex for me anymore either,” she said, breathlessly. “At first, it was. At first, it was just about the release, but then it became about you. I craved you, not just in the physical sense. I wanted to be near you, to talk to you. And I don’t like giving anyone that power over me. It scares me. You…” She released a shuddering breath. “You scare me. The way I feel about you terrifies me.”

“And how do you feel about me, Nesta?” He asked, turning towards her, voice as quiet as the night around them. She was quiet and apparently it was a beat too long, because he leaned down, letting his brow rest against hers. “How do you feel about me, sweetheart? Tell me.”

The gentle touch of him alone had her heart nearly about to beat out of her chest.

“I…” She began, but the words were stuck on her tongue, barricading behind her lips. “You don’t know how I feel after that confession?”

Cassian let out a soft laugh, his breath warm against her lips. “I want to hear you say it.”

She hadn’t said those words in a long time. Even now, she had only known Cassian for a couple of months, had jumped into his bed so quickly that it had surely pushed along her emotions, but was it still too early to say such earth-shifting words?

She didn’t know.

She had no idea what the timeline was on falling in love, but she knew what she felt, how she felt.

“And if I say it, then what?” she asked, quietly. What happens after I pour my heart out to you?

Cassian was quiet for a moment, his brow still pressed against hers, his fingers trailing up and down her arms. He said, “Then I’d tell you I’ve been falling in love with you, too.”

So much emotion flooded throughout Nesta that she had to blink back tears. With every word that came out of his mouth, she knew he meant it, knew he was genuine, knew he was speaking from his soul.

He was watching her eyes, surely noting every emotion that passed through them. His hands swept up her arms and cupped her face. They were so close, so intimate, she was so stripped down before him even though she was wearing far more around him now than she typically did.

“I’m falling in love with you, Cassian,” she breathed, the words feeling right as they came out, but it still sent chills down her spine. “And I don’t know what to do about that.”

“You don’t do anything about it,” he replied, voice low. His eyes had fallen shut, his lips brushing against hers, a whisper of a kiss. “You just let it happen.”

Nesta couldn’t take it, couldn’t stop herself as she leaned up on her toes, throwing his arms around his neck, and kissing him with everything she had.

He caught her, just like he always had, like she knew she could always trust him to. His tongue danced along the seam of her lips and she opened for him, nearly groaning at the taste of him, the feel of him.

His hands found her ass and he lifted her, heading back towards her house. He carried her up the porch steps, and reached for the knob, ready to ravish her, to get her naked on the first surface he saw and make love to her-

The door knob was locked and Cassian pulled away, looking at Nesta.

“My keys,” she said, panting slightly.

He put her down, letting her scoop the keys from where he’d dropped them, and realized he’d never been to her house. He had no idea where he was going or how exactly to get to her bedroom. Not that he was picky. He didn’t care where they ended up, as long as he was inside her, as long as he was making love to her at the end of the night.

She unlocked the door and he followed her inside, pausing in the softly lit entry. The rest of the house was dark, but he didn’t give a shit about what her decor looked like. She turned to face him again and he knew she felt the same.

“Arya?” Nesta asked, and he knew she wasn’t asking about the future with his daughter. They would have to take that a day at a time.

“She’s with Mor, having a girl’s night,” explained, reaching for her hand, playing with each of her finger tips. He brought that hand to his lips and kissed the pad of each of her fingers. “I called her on the way over and asked if she could stay the night with them.”

“Thinking you would be staying was a pretty big assumption,” she smirked, watching him.

“I had high hopes,” he admitted, chuckling. “But I’d also decided if you weren’t willing to talk, I’d walk my ass to the closest bar and get absolutely hammered.”

“A very mature way to handle this,” she teased, and tugged on his hand as she backed up towards the staircase leading to the second story.

“We just had sex in a car,” Cassian explained, happily being dragged away by her. “Maturity has gone out the window at this point.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh in full agreement as they made it to the second floor landing. He swept her into his arms, once again, and kissed her, slowly.

Nesta melted into his arms before leaning back to say, “Last room on the left.”

Cassian nodded and made his way down the hallway, holding onto Nesta, refusing to let her go. He nudged her door open with the toe of his boot and swept inside, not bothering to turn on the light. It was dark, but the moonlight through her thin curtains and the lights from the streetlamps along the sidewalk provided enough light for Cassian not to run into anything.

He laid Nesta down on top of her blankets and observed her. Her hair was a mess and her face had been practically wiped clean of her makeup, both from the rainstorm that morning and the few tears she had shed, he assumed. She was still wearing that damned shirt from his garage and the leggings she’d had in her dance bag.

Cassian had never seen her look so beautiful.

Without a word, Cassian toed off his boots one by one and pulled off his shirt before climbing on top of Nesta and kissing her. He did not kiss her with urgency, but his tongue swept between her lips as he kissed her nice and slow.

Nesta’s hands were his face, his neck, his shoulders, his back. She couldn’t settle on a place to touch him. She finally got to that perfect ass in those tight jeans and he broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck.

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling her tighter against him, despite the fact that he was lying on top of her.

She didn’t hesitate as she brought his face to hers and let him see the truth of her words in her eyes. “I love you, Cassian,” she breathed. “I’ve been in love with you for far longer than I was willing to admit to myself.”

Anything else she might have wanted to say, any other thoughts she had were lost as Cassian’s lips found hers again and he rolled them, until Nesta’s body was draped across his. He inched her shirt up, pulling it off and tossing it across the room. Her bra followed and his mouth was as back at her breasts, tongue and teeth swapping from one peaked nipple to the other.

“One day, I’m going to worship these like they deserve. I’ve got plans for them.” He tugged on her nipple with his teeth and she moaned quietly. “But tonight… Tonight, I need to be as close to you as possible.”

Nesta already felt like she was about to combust as she felt the truth of every word he spoke. She wanted that too, wanted it so desperately. She wanted to be close to him tonight, every night, wanted to know what it was like to wake up wrapped in his arms each morning.

Nesta calmly reached between them and unhooked his belt, the button of his jeans, the zipper. She pushed herself up on her knees as she helped him shimmy out of his jeans, his boxer briefs. Then, she did the same to herself, kicking off her leggings and her panties. When she laid on top of him once more, it was her skin, soft and warm, against his, rough and scarred and inked.

Utter perfection.

She kissed him then, and his hands ran up her back and into her hair. They were so close, could have easily crossed that line that they had crossed a hundred times before, but didn’t, not yet. Nesta dwelled at the comfort she felt in his arms, with her body pressed tightly up against his. Each of her hands were on his stubbled cheeks as she kissed him slowly, tenderly, and then he was rolling them over yet again, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

She wanted to say it a million times, over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you, but she put those emotions into her actions instead and hoped he realized how much it was true.

Every time they’d been together was frenzied and rough and that beautiful type of pleasure with the slightest edge of pain. This, Nesta realized, would be different, as Cassian gently unwound her legs from his waist and let her weight settle against the mattress. They’d teased each other about foreplay, but she wouldn’t have stopped his hand’s deliberate path up her thigh no matter how long he drug it out. She whimpered as one of his long fingers slid inside of her, before he added another.

Sitting up on her elbows, she looked down at where those fingers kept disappearing inside of her. At the muscular, tattooed arm those fingers were attached to, at the man they belonged to, devastatingly beautiful above her and Nesta couldn’t wait. She couldn’t take another second without him.

His eyes trailed from his fingers up to her face, where they lingered on her eyes. His unspoken words flooded her and she whispered, “I want you now, Cass. I need you.”

He slowly pulled his fingers out of her and climbed up her body. He cradled one palm beneath her head, and his other swept up her thigh and swung her leg around his hip.

With his eyes on hers, he slowly pushed his cock inside of her.

Nesta gasped, quietly, and held onto him as he filled her.

His eyes never left hers, and that had Nesta’s stomach going wild. There was something so intimate about holding his gaze as he thrust himself in, pulled out, and did so again. He kept his pace slow, steady, even, but he filled her to the hilt with each pass.

Nesta’s lips parted and her hands shook, her body full of emotion, that intimacy consuming her soul.

She was struck again by just how different this was, how she could feel every word he’d wanted to tell her, punctuated by every thrust of his hips.

How different it was…but how utterly right it felt.

With every rock of Cassian’s hips, Nesta came closer and closer to the edge, closer to ecstasy, and he watched it build. He watched it until Nesta was panting with the need to cum, release shimmering on the other side of the ledge she was on.

Without warning, his thrusts became harder. Rather than a slow roll, he snapped his hips against hers and Nesta came, her head thrown back in sheer bliss, as she cried out, so loud the neighbors had to have heard. Cassian’s lips found her exposed neck and he sucked, hard enough to leave a mark, but he wanted everyone we saw to know she was his and he was hers.

She was still cumming when he rolled them, pussy still clenching around him as she sat up and rested her hands on his chest. Cassian’s hands gripped her hips and waited for her to come down, watched as she still quivered atop him.

She was so fucking beautiful.

Her uneven breaths faded and she looked down at him as she rocked her hips, back and forth, side to side. Her legs were still shaking, if only just a little bit, reminding him that he’d just succeeded in pleasing her and would do so again before they were finished.

But they would never be finished. There would always be a next time, Cassian would make sure of that.

Once she began to bounce, Cassian’s fingers dug into her hips a little tighter and he cursed, quietly. “You feel…so good…”

Her eyes lit up as she smiled, bouncing a little quicker. Cassian’s hands swept up to palm her breasts as they bounced.

“Come here,” he breathed, and she did, her mouth falling into his. She continued to ride him as their kiss deepened, as Cassian began to groan and Nesta responded with a little noise of her own.

His hips lifted and they met her bounce with a thrust and he swallowed the cry of pleasure she made. His arms wound around her waist and he repeated the motion, snapping his hips, his cock pulling almost all the way out before he plunged it back in over and over.

Nesta moaned, shattering around him, screaming his name, pulling him over the edge with her. He stilled with his cock buried inside her, each wave of his orgasm stronger than the last, until he had nothing left to give her and was well and truly spent.

They laid there for a moment, not saying anything, just purely existing together in their own world. Cassian’s fingers idly dragged up and down Nesta’s back. It gave her goosebumps and she turned her head to look at him. He was already smiling down at her.

“What?” she whispered.

He laughed, quietly, and all he said was, “Fuck.”

Nesta’s laughter was a little bit louder as she nodded and buried her face into the crook of his neck. “Yeah. That was…”

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed, and she knew he was thinking the same exact thing that she was thinking.

I’d never experienced anything like that. Sex had never been that phenomonal before. ‘Phenomenal’ wasn’t a good enough word. It was something beyond that, something unworldly, something that could only happen when you met your one true match.

Nesta slowly slid off his cock and Cassian frowned but didn’t protest. The look on his face, however, had her biting her bottom lip to keep from grinning.

“Where are you going?” he asked, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch her as she got off the bed.

“Just to make sure the doors are locked,” she promised. “Since you’re staying with me tonight.”

Staying.

Cassian nodded, his eyes light and his body relaxed. She left, hurried down the stairs, and locked the front door feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

——

When Cassian woke up, the first thing he noticed was how well rested he felt. He settled back into the pillows, ready to doze back off when he realized Arya hadn’t come to wake him up, like she did every Saturday morning.

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered why he wasn’t at home and had gotten to sleep in an extra two hours of sleep on a Saturday morning. He remembered why he had slept so well, as he looked at Nesta’s beautiful sleeping face.

She was curled into him, the two of them having never stopped touching even in their sleep, and he couldn’t help but tighten the arm around her. She made a contented noise, settling into a deeper sleep, and Cassian was content to marvel at how truly gorgeous she was until she woke up on her own, but it seemed that his stomach had other things in mind.

It made the most god awful growl that had the cat sleeping at Cassian’s feet jumping off the bed. When he looked back up from the surprise mystery cat making its exit, he found Nesta awake, eyes on him, with an amused look on her face.

He cleared his throat and gestured towards the door and the hall beyond. “I didn’t know you had a cat,” he said, awkwardly.

Her smirk had grown into a full grin and she leaned up on his chest and brought her mouth down to his. “You never asked.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong there.

“Good morning,” he murmured, lips still moving against hers.

“Good morning,” she muttered, and kissed him again. “And the cat’s name is Ember. You will call her as such.”

“Noted,” he promised, and kissed her again.

He didn’t think he would ever tire of that.

Kissing her.

Waking up next to her.

“How’d you sleep?” She asked, her cheek falling back against his chest.

“Better than I have in a long time,” he confessed.

“Me too,” she whispered, draping a leg over his.

“It seems I worked up quite the appetite last night, though,” he continued.

His stomach growled again to prove his point.

Nesta chuckled and sat up, stretching as she did so. Cassian watched in wonder.

“Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be back.”

She hurried away before he could say anything and once she came back, a TV tray of goodies in hand, still gloriously nude, he had sunk back into the comfort of her pillows.

“This is not the diet I expected you to have,” he chuckled, opening a shiny package of brown sugar and cinnamon pop-tarts.

“I don’t eat like this every day,” she defended, bumping his shoulder with hers. “This is from my cheat day cabinet. Besides, I had a very strict diet for almost ten years of my life. It’s nice to decide what I want for breakfast sometimes.”

“And what do you usually have for breakfast?” He asked, holding out his pop-tart and letting her steal a bite of it.

“An egg white omelet with turkey sausage and black coffee.” He raised his eyebrows but before he could tease her, she asked, “What about you? What’s on the Cassian Nazari breakfast menu typically?”

He snorted. “Whatever is on the Arya Nazari menu. Typically, pancakes and bacon. Sometimes sausage and cereal. Really just depends on her mood.”

Things got quiet for a minute.

Finally, Nesta asked, “What are you going to tell her about me?”

Cassian took another bite to allow himself to think before answering. “I figured that I would keep it simple for now. Let her know that you’ll be around the house more. That I care about you.” He looked at her and she watched him with a small smile. “She’ll ask questions and I’ll answer them honestly.”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the little frown on his mouth wasn’t it. She asked, “What’s wrong? Is that a bad thing?”

Cassian shook his head and gave her a gentle smile. “I just haven’t really dated since she’s been old enough to get attached to anyone.”

Before he could say anything more, Nesta said, “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

His smile deepened as he laced his fingers through hers. “Good.”

They ate in a comfortable silence, holding one another’s hand. Afterwards, Cassian gave Arya a call while Nesta cleaned everything up and dressed.

Cassian was still in bed talking on the phone when she returned from the kitchen.

“I know you love Aunt Mor, but you have to come home some time,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Nesta chuckled. She could hear Arya’s protests on the other end of the phone. “Alright. Let me talk to Aunt Mor.”

As soon as Mor took the phone, she asked, “So did you have fun last night?”

Cassian’s eyes slowly trailed to Nesta’s. “Very much so.”

Nesta’s cheeks turned pink as she laid down on the bed next to him and rested her cheek on his bare chest.

“Me and Em were thinking about taking her to the zoo if that’s okay with you,” she said. “I’ll be sure to drop her off when she’s nice and tired so that she’ll be too exhausted to throw a fit.”

He laughed, but said, “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun!” He heard Emerie call from the other end of the phone. Nesta buried her face in Cassian’s chest as he hung up and he chuckled before he kissed the top of her head. “Looks like we’ve got quite a bit of time to kill.”

“Do we?” She smirked, leaning up to press her lips to him.

They got lost in each other’s arms again and as Cassian rolled off of her an hour later, panting, he muttered, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve cum so many times in the past 24 hours that I don’t know if I have anything left in me for a while.” He glanced down at his cock, still gleaming with their mixed releases. “I mean, look, my dick is practically raw.”

“Poor baby,” Nesta crooned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “So does that mean you don’t want to take a shower with me?”

He had let his head fall back into the pillows, but he perked up and looked at her. “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Then come on,” she smirked, heading into the small attached bathroom. “I promise, I won’t touch your poor, little-.”

She squealed as he picked her up, not having heard him jump from the bed and approach before he wrapped his arms around her. He set her on the counter and kissed her, stepping between her parted legs. “Again, I don’t remember asking you to do that.”

“But you said-.”

“Fuck what I said,” he breathed, kissing her. “I don’t ever not want your hands on me. All day, every day. I’m yours, baby.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the pet name or the tender tone of his voice, but she nodded and kissed him again. “To be honest,” she said, cringing. “I’m pretty sore down there, too.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckled. “She’s taken quite a beating in the past day.”

Nesta scrunched her nose. “It’s my pussy. It’s attached to me. It’s not a she.”

“It is a she,” he said, dropping to his knees between her legs, spreading them, and pressing a kiss to her sex. “And she loves me, and my cock, just like you do.”

He stood and turned on the shower behind them. Nesta released the breath she’d been holding and asked, “Who said I loved your cock?”

“You did, actually,” Cassian smirked, looking through her cabinets until he found a couple of towels for them. “Multiple times last night, actually.”

She scowled but didn’t correct him. It was true, she had screamed the words again and again. She did love his cock.

Nonetheless, when he came back she shoved against his chest and he laughed before trying to approach her again. This time she allowed it and let him pull her into the shower.

When they were beneath the steamy water, he said, “We can take a break. How about we spend the day out?”

Nesta arched a brow. “Out?”

He nodded. “It’s about time I took you out on a real first date. And considering last time we went to dinner and it didn’t go so great, maybe I’ll have better luck taking you somewhere…adventurous.”

“Adventurous?” Nesta asked, her other brow meeting the one that had neared her hairline. “And where would we go that’s so adventurous?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You just have to say yes.”

Nesta looked at him for a moment, pretending to weigh her options. But when he was clearly growing impatient, she laughed. “Alright. Fine.”

They washed and then Nesta got dressed and ready. Cassian made it a point that he would have to stop at his apartment considering all he had was his dirty work clothes from the day before.

He also convinced her to let him drive there. She sat in the middle of the old bench seat, leaned against him. His right hand was on her thigh where it had been since they’d started the drive.

“Have I ever told you,” he murmured, glancing over at her, “that you drive my actual dream car?”

Her eyebrows raised slightly. “When would you have ever told me that?” She chuckled. “No wonder you wanted to have sex in it.”

“Oh, I’d been planning that since I first walked you out and saw what kind of car you had,” he admitted. “But fucking in front of your house or in my parking garage didn’t seem like a good idea. Wasn’t worth the indecent exposure charge we’d both likely get slapped with.”

She laughed but then looked up at him. “Wait. Did it really take all day then or did you do that so we’d be alone in the shop?”

“It was just pure luck that it took all day to track down the part,” he replied, eyes on the road in front of them.

The smirk told her that may not have been entirely true.

“I’m convinced that you’re full of shit,” she muttered.

His smirk turned into a full on grin.

They arrived at his apartment and she began to snoop as he changed. She was looking at Arya’s pictures on the fridge as he came back in jeans and a t-shirt.

“She was a beautiful baby,” Nesta said, looking at a picture of an infant Arya. “She looked like you even then.”

“My genes are definitely dominant, but when I look at her, I see so much of Tanwyn.” He was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the picture. “But when she was a baby, she was absolutely perfect.”

“She still is,” Nesta smiled, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his middle. She leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “But you already knew that.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, kissing her again. “And so are you.”

He cut off any debate she may have to that claim by slipping his tongue between her lips and lifting her up onto her counter. She melted into the kiss until the incessant throbbing between her legs reminded her that they should probably stop before they didn’t leave the house for the rest of the day.

“So about this surprise,” she said, pushing on his chest lightly.

He gave her room and grinned, holding out his hand.

“I think you’re gonna like it.”

#snacmc collabs #nessian isl #isn’t she lovely #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #daddy cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar 5

[snelbz]

Isn’t She Lovely {4}

Summary: Cassian, a single father, tries online dating for a one night stand and gets more than he bargains for. Nesta, a former professional ballet dancer, opens her own studio in her new hometown of Velaris and finds that she knows one of her students’ fathers from a night of utter regret.

Warnings: Mature content throughout. Language, sex, drinking, etc. NSFW.

A collab with @theladyofdeath

Cassian was regretting getting Arya an ice cream cone as it melted down her dress in the backseat.

“Daddy! It’s sticky!” she whined. “Are we there yet?”

Cassian sighed as he pulled onto Rhysand’s street. “Almost. You have to eat it faster and it won’t melt.”

“But it’s too cold,” she shot back, licking her cone nonetheless.

By the time Cassian pulled into Rhysand’s driveway, they were the last to arrive and Arya’s pink dress was covered in melted chocolate ice cream.

The sun was still hot, being so late in the afternoon, and Cassian had been dying to jump into the pool all day. He’d had to work that morning but only for a few hours. Arya had gone with him to the shop and talked to all the customers as they came to drop off or pick up their vehicles.

As he got Arya out of her carseat, he cringed. “I should’ve brought a change of clothes.”

“It’s okay, daddy, I can put my swimsuit on,” she said, smiling brightly at him as he set her on the sidewalk.

Cassian chuckled and took her hand as they walked to the front door, swimsuits in hand. He didn’t bother knocking on the front door as he threw it open.

“Party’s here,” he called, tossing Arya’s bag on the bench by the door. She yanked her swimsuit out of his hand and hurried up the stairs to change.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Rhys said as Cass made his way into the kitchen. He was pulling two beers from the fridge and handed one to Cassian.

“Someone wanted to stop for ice cream and ended up wearing it,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s upstairs putting her swimsuit on now.”

Rhys chuckled as he popped the top on his can and took a drink. “Sounds about right. Everyone else is out back already. Girls already drank too much.”

“Feyre and Elain? Drunk? Never,” Cassian joked, having seen the two a little tipsy on multiple occasions since Rhys started dating Feyre.

“Her other sister came, too,” Rhys nodded. “She can’t hold her liquor any better than the other two.”

Cassian just shook his head as Arya darted into the kitchen and towards the backdoor.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rhysand said. “No hug?”

Arya rolled her eyes but giggled as she gave her uncle a hug and zoomed out the backdoor.

Cassian sighed. “Mind helping her get her swimmies on while I go get changed?”

Rhysand grinned. “Before you became a dad, I never imagined you saying the word swimmies.”

Cassian shoved him out the backdoor before going into the bathroom to change into his swim shorts. There was a time when he never thought he’d be saying words like swimmies, either. There was a time when he didn’t want to be a father. In fact, there was a time when he had vowed to never be a parent.

Now, he couldn’t imagine being anything but Arya’s dad.

WIth his shorts on and his beer in hand, Cassian headed toward the back door.

“Daddy, watch!” Arya didn’t wait to make sure he could even see her before she jumped off the side of the pool in Azriel’s waiting arms. Her floaties kept her above water, but just in case, Uncle Az was there to catch her.

“That was awesome, baby,” he said, dropping down into the chair next to Rhys.

“She’ll be an Olympic diver by sunset,” Azriel said, lifting her up so she stood on the edge of the pool, ready to jump again.

“I’m not a diver, Uncle Az,” she said, little hands resting on her hips. “I’m a dancer.”

She proved it by going through five positions she’d been taught through her first few dance classes. She was loving dance as much as Cassian hoped she would, though he wasn’t surprised. It was in her blood.

“You know, our sister is a dancer,” Feyre said, lifting her sunglasses off her face.

Cassian looked around, wondering where the illustrious third Archeron sister was. He’d been looking forward to meeting her, ever since she moved to Velaris a couple months back. Every time Elain and Feyre invited her to come out or have dinner with them, she was always busy. And the few times she had come, Cassian had to work or Arya didn’t have a sitter. His network of sitters pretty much consisted of his family, and if they were all together, then he had no one to watch her.

“Speaking of, where is she?” He asked, reaching into the cooler for another beer.

“Pool house,” Elain replied, pointing to the small house on the back of the property with pink-painted toe nails.

Cassian looked up at the pool house just as the third Archeron sister stepped out. She wore a navy blue bikini with a boujee logo that covered one of her breasts.

The swimsuit left very little to the imagination.

Not that Cassian had to do much imagining.

He had seen that body naked before.

He cursed. “Nesta?”

Her head snapped up and she slowly removed her sunglasses. Those fiery blue eyes of hers narrowed. “Cassian?”

“Miss Nesta!” Arya shouted, clapping her hands with glee.

Nesta’s annoyed expression turned to one of forced, albeit believable surprise. “Hi, Arya. How are you?”

She tried to keep her voice kind, neutral, Cassian could tell, but it was really just full of confusion.

“I’m sorry,” Rhysand said, looking back and forth between Nesta and Cassian. “You’re taking Arya to Nesta’s studio?”

Of course. That was the logical explanation. Cassian just nodded. “Uh, yeah. Arya loves it there.”

Nesta, remembering how feet work, continued to walk down the little stone path to approach her sisters.

“I didn’t mention Nesta was Feyre and Elain’s sister when I told you about the dance classes?” Mor asked, sitting in a lounge chair with Emerie’s feet in her lap.

“No,” Cassian said, watching Nesta as she came closer. “Must have slipped your mind.”

“Well, now you know,” Rhys said, getting to his feet. “Cass, Az, wanna help me carry the rest of Elain’s punch out?”

Cassian’s eyebrows bunched together. “Why do we need to-?”

Rhys was already heading in the house and Az passed Arya off to Mor as he hopped out of the pool and dried himself off. They followed Rhys inside.

“Where’s the punch at?” Cassian asked, looking around.

“Feyre, Elain and Nesta drank it all,” Azriel said, pulling a fresh beer out of the fridge.

He blinked. “Then why-?”

“Because I saw the way you were looking at Nesta,” Rhysand interrupted. “Specifically her tits, and for the sake of my relationship, she is one hundred and fifty percent off limits.”

Cassian hesitated.

Rhysand saw that hesitation and said, “What?”

Cassian blinked. “What?”

“You look guilty,” Rhysand observed.

Cassian scoffed. “I do not.”

“I’ve known you my entire life, Cass, you look guilty,” Rhysand protested.

“I don’t look guilty!” Cassian argued.

“You look a little guilty,” Azriel muttered, taking a drink of his beer.

Cassian gaze Azriel a withering glare.

Rhysand swore. “The hell did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?” Cassian asked, voice raised.

“I can see it in your eyes!” Rhysand yelled back.

“Unless you want everyone hearing this conversation, I suggest you keep your voices down,” Azriel said. Always the voice of reason.

Cassian sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Look, I didn’t know she was Feyre’s sister.”

Rhysand stared at Cassian for a moment before asking, once again, “Cass, what did you do?”

Cassian started rubbing the back of his neck. “The blind date I went on last month?”

“One night stand,” Azriel mumbled.

Cassian opened his mouth but nothing else came out.

Rhysand, even in his tipsy state, put two and two together. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t know she was her sister!” He repeated, keeping his voice down after a pointed look from Azriel. “And I didn’t even initiate it, she did. She said the date was going shitty and we should go to back to my place and bang. I had a sitter for the night,” he said, gesturing to Rhys. “And I wanted to get laid. So we did.”

Rhys rubbed his temples. “This is bad. This is very bad. Feyre and Elain can’t know.”

Azriel finished his beer. “You know as well as I do that she’s out there telling them the same thing right now.”

“She better not be, not in front of Arya,” Cassian mumbled.

Rhysand scoffed. “Arya is too busy being a fish to pay them any mind.”

Cassian’s lips thinned, but he supposed Rhysand was right. Either way, he wasn’t a fan of being talked about in such a manner in front of his child.

Before he could say anything more, Rhysand said, “If this ruins anything-.”

“What could it possibly ruin?” Cassian interrupted, grabbing another beer out of the fridge. “We’re adults, Rhys. We can fuck and be civil afterwards.”

“Can you?” Rhysand asked. “Because you just looked like a deer caught in the headlights.”

“I was caught off guard,” Cassian said. “I’m sure she was, too. If I can sit through Arya’s dance classes, I can sit through a day by the pool with her there.”

Rhysand looked at Cassian for a long moment.

Azriel looked between the two of them, not saying a word, drowning his beer.

“Behave yourself,” Rhysand said as he headed for the back door, pointing a finger at Cass, who threw his hands up defensively.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” He called, as he walked out.

Azriel still hadn’t said much, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but Cassian needed to know what was on his mind. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re adults,” Azriel replied. Cassian was about to open his mouth to thank him for his rational thinking, but he wasn’t done. “But you don’t do anything halfway, Cass. And it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone.”

“Yeah,” he said, heading for the door. “Hence why I needed to get laid.”

“If you say there’s nothing there, I believe you,” Azriel said, following him. “But be careful.”

“I’m not going to break her heart,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “It was casual sex and it won’t happen again. She’s not going to get attached.”

Opening the fridge, Azriel grabbed two fresh beers and handed one to Cassian before heading outside. “It’s not her I’m worried about. It’s you.”

Cassian didn’t move as Azriel left. He stood alone in the kitchen, dwelling on those words.

It’s not her I’m worried about.

He cracked open his new beer but didn’t drink it.

It was true that it had been a while since he’d been serious with a woman. And, on top of that, he’d only had one night stands with a handful of women. One of the last being Arya’s mother.

It’s you.

Cassian sipped from his beer and told himself that Rhys and Azriel were being ridiculous.

Even if they weren’t.

~

Nesta watched the boys go inside knowing fully well what they were discussing.

“Nesta?”

She blinked, looking at her sisters who were watching her with concern.

Mor had gotten in the pool with Arya and Emerie was sitting on the edge, taking pictures of the pair. “What?” she asked, eyeing Feyre. It was annoying how her sisters always knew that there was something on her mind.

“You were having a good time ten minutes ago,” Feyre pushed. “Now you look like you’re going to puke.”

“I’m fine,” Nesta snapped, even though she wasn’t.

“That’s not the look you give one of your dance parents,” Elain said, sipping from her nearly empty glass. “When we bumped into that dance mom the other day, you acted like you were best friends.”

“Well, he isn’t a dance mom,” she bit out, careful to keep her voice down so Arya didn’t hear. She may have been drunk, but she wasn’t going to be a bitch to someone in front of their daughter. “And I don’t like him. So.”

Elain and Feyre glanced at each other. “No one asked you to like him, but you’re going to be around him a good bit,” Feyre said. “He’s Rhysand’s best friend, they literally grew up together.

“Azriel, too,” Elain added, hiccuping. She repeated what Feyre had just said. “So he’ll be around. He’s nice, Nes.”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta waved them off. “Yeah, he’s nice, he’s gorgeous, he’s got the body of a god, and fucks like one, too, but I don’t see why I have to be anything more than civil with him.”

Elain had dropped her glass in the pool and Feyre was staring wide-eyed at her eldest sister.

Nesta realized what she’d said a moment too late.

“Not that I’d know-.”

“He was your dating app date?” Feyre whispered, taking a step closer to keep their conversation down.

Nesta looked over her shoulder at the back of the house, at the kitchen doors that were still shut. When she looked back at her sisters, she nodded.

“I obviously didn’t know who he was,” Nesta hissed. “I didn’t know he’d be strolling into my dance studio two days later, either.”

“What are you going to do?” Elain asked, covering her mouth with her hand. Nesta knew she was trying to hide her building smile. Elain was never good at hiding her emotions, especially while she was drinking.

“I’m going to treat him like I do the rest of my dance moms,” she said, letting her hair fall out of the bun she’d had it in on top of her head. “Professional, respectful, and-.”

“Are you going to go out with him again?” Feyre asked, sitting on the edge of the pool and slipping back into the water.

Nesta did the same, reaching for her drink. “Absolutely not.”

“But you said he fucks like a god,” Elain squeaked, sitting on the edge of the pool and letting her feet hang in the water.

Nesta sucked down the rest of her punch before replying. “Regardless of that fact, absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Feyre pushed.

“Just because!” She shouted, which caught the attention of Arya, Mor, and Emerie. She gave them a quick smile and said, “Sorry.”

They went back to playing.

“There was no chemistry,” Nesta said. “He’s rude and conceited and I don’t want to sit through such a horrid dinner again.”

“Sounds about right,” Elain muttered. “There’s never a second date with you.”

Nesta scoffed. “Excuse me?”

But the kitchen doors opened and Rhysand came out, plopping down beside Feyre. A moment later, Cassian and Azriel followed.

Nesta suddenly became very interested in her drink.

It was quiet, except for the sound of music playing through Azriel’s Bluetooth speaker and Arya splashing as she played.

It was also really fucking awkward.

Mor and Emerie glanced around and then at each other. Finally, Mor asked, “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Rhys said, smiling broadly, silently telling his cousin to shut up.

Emerie seemed to get the message, and even took it a step farther, saying, “Arya, I think I saw a few popsicles in the freezer if your daddy says you can have one.”

Her hazel eyes widened and she looked at Cassian. “Can I have one, daddy? Please?”

He leaned over and lifted her out of the pool, resting her on his hip. “I thought you didn’t like popsicles. I thought you only liked ice cream. That’s what you said on the ride over here.”

She sighed, far more dramatically than any four year old should be able to, and said, “Ice cream is too melty.”

He rolled his eyes but set her on her feet and she took Emerie’s hand, following her into the house.

Once they were gone, Mor pushed, “Okay, now will someone tell me why it got really weird really fast?”

“So nosey, Morrigan,” Cassian said, crossing his broad arms.

Nesta snorted.

Mor shot her a look.

Nesta looked away and knocked back her drink.

Mor looked back at Cassian.

He quickly averted his eyes from hers.

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” Mor asked, pointing between Cassian and Nesta.

“No,” Nesta snapped, just as Cassian scrunched his nose.

Recognition lit Mor’s eyes and a wicked grin spread across her lips. “Oh, you two know each other.”

“I need a drink,” Nesta muttered, and disappeared into the pool house.

Cassian was staring at Mor, lips thinned.

“What?” Mor laughed. “Judging from everyone’s faces they already knew.”

“Moving on,” Cassian said, jumping into the water right next to Mor, splashing a heap of water right into her face.

As soon as he found his footing, Mor was climbing onto his back, cursing his name and trying to push him back under.

Cassian just wrapped her in a hug and took her under water with him. They stayed there for long enough that Nesta came back with a new drink.

By the time they came back up, Mor was grinning and Cassian was sputtering and coughing. He pushed his wet hair back off his face and faced her.

“How the hell can you hold your breath for that long?”

“2007 Camp Velaris Underwater Handstand Champion, thank you very much,” she beamed.

“That’s a very specific and weird accomplishment,” Cassian replied, still coughing.

“You can’t take that pride from her,” Rhys said, from where he lounged in the float he’d stolen from Feyre. “It’s the only accomplishment she’s ever gotten.”

She dove back under the water and flipped Rhys out of his float. She smiled as he came back up and crooned, “Asshole,” flipping him off

“Incoming little ears,” Emerie announced as she carried Arya, covered in blue popsicle back out of the kitchen.

“I thought you liked popsicles cause ice cream was meltier?” Cassian asked, crossing his arms as Emerie set her down at the edge of the pool.

“Popsicles still melt, daddy,” Arya said, leaning down so her face was even with Cassian’s.

Cassian chuckled. “Alright, come on. Let me see your tongue.”

Arya smiled as she stuck out her very blue tongue. Cassian slowly shook his head. “Uh oh. A blue tongue can’t be healthy. I think something’s wrong. Better take you to see the doctor.”

“No!” Arya laughed, falling into Cassian’s open arms.

He caught her and sunk into the water as Arya wrapped her little floaty-covered arms around his neck. He swam her around the pool, Rhysand and Mor still bickering and calling one another names in the shallow end, as the rest of the crew dove in.

All but Nesta.

From the look of her still perfectly curled hair, Cassian assumed she hadn’t been in yet. Or, at least, hadn’t gone in past her waist. Yet she had dismissed herself twice more to refill her cup.

“Not a swimmer?” Cassian asked, after throwing a giggly Arya off his shoulders, into the pool.

Rhysand was now swimming around with her on his back.

Nesta shrugged, sipping from her cup. “I like to swim.”

“Then come on in,” Cassian suggested, knowing full well that both of her sisters were watching the conversation.

“I think I’ll wait,” Nesta said, dismissively.

Cassian lifted a brow and splashed water over the edge of the pool, sending water flying up over her perfectly tanned legs.

“I said, I’ll wait,” she repeated, sharply, adjusting the sunglasses on her face and looking up towards the sun. A pure dismissal if he’d ever seen one.

Good thing he was a determined son of a bitch.

“Come in. It’s way more fun than laying on the deck and tanning.”

She ignored him.

“Come in, Miss Nesta!” Arya chimed, as she swam from Rhysand to Azriel, a few feet away.

Nesta, with an annoyed expression, slowly pulled herself up out of her chair. “Only for Arya.”

Cassian grinned as she headed for the stairs and slowly made her way into the water.

She still held her drink.

Cassian couldn’t help watching her body as it disappeared beneath the surface.

Her sisters instantly flocked to her and Nesta seemed to loosen up, just a little bit.

“You’re staring,” Emerie mumbled as she swam past him.

Cassian flipped her off and Arya gasped, having caught him in the act.

“Daddy, that’s naughty,” she said, bringing it to everyone’s attention.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “I’m never naughty.”

“Yes you are,” she said, stepping on the stairs and putting her hands on her hips. “You say naughty words all the time.”

Cassian scoffed. “I do not.”

“Yes you do,” Mor agreed.

Emerie was nodding, too, as she swung Arya around.

“Don’t ever argue with a woman, Cass,” Rhysand noted, tossing his arm around Feyre’s shoulder. “Even a little one. You’ll lose every time.”

Cassian didn’t argue with that. Arya was going to be a force to be reckoned with when she was older. She had her father’s stubbornness and her mother’s sass.

They swam until the sun began its descent in the sky. Arya was starting to yawn as Rhysand and Feyre started making supper, refusing to let anyone else help. Elain and Azriel stayed in the pool with Mor and Emerie while Arya snuggled up in a chair, wrapped in his towel, watching a show on Cassian’s phone.

Once he made sure she was comfortable and resting, he gave her a kiss on the top of the head and went into the pool house, looking for a spare towel.

He didn’t find one.

He did, however, find an unopened case of beer in the minifridge that sat in the corner and helped himself to one.

As he bent down to grab a can, the door behind him opened and Nesta walked in.

She may have been a bitch, but he had been inside of her. And her body had been driving him wild all day, thinking about that night.

She hesitated by the door, but then crossed to where the bar was set up along the back wall. She didn’t say a word to him, didn’t spare a single glance his way.

Cassian watched her, and made his way over to lean on the bar next to her. It occurred to him then that this was the first time they’d been alone since she’d called for a car to take her back to the restaurant and left him in his bed.

Not that he’d minded at the time. He was content with never seeing the woman he’d had such earth shattering sex with again.

Until he found out he’d be seeing her constantly in Arya’s dance classes.

Even more so, now that he knew she was Feyre and Elain’s sister.

“Can I help you?” She snapped, still not looking at him.

Her sunglasses were long gone, so Cassian was able to see just how gorgeous the stormy blue-gray color of her eyes was. It was offset by the slight sunburn across her cheeks and nose. Those eyes just looked brighter.

“You don’t think we should talk?” Cassian asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew he was an intimidating male, based purely on his size, and knew how to hold his body to accent that.

Nesta Archeron clearly didn’t find him intimidating at all.

She turned towards him, an annoyed look in her eye and a hand on her hip.

Cassian grinned. This was going to be fun.

“Why would we do that?” she asked. “We already talked at the studio, I think we covered all the bases then.”

“We weren’t alone then,” he replied. “We can actually talk here, without Arya or the snooty other moms listening in. Or your sisters.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Each word was clipped, terse.

Cassian clicked his tongue. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“I’m perfectly capable of having a meaningless one night stand,” Nesta said, her chin lifted high. “It seems you are not.”

“So you didn’t enjoy that night?” Cassian asked, his voice dropping an octave. “At all?”

He couldn’t help his eyes as they drifted lower, to the neckline of her bikini top, and back up. She knew, too, tracked that movement and clenched her jaw.

When she didn’t answer, Cassian’s grin widened. He shook his head, and chuckled as he said, “Look, I just don’t want things to be weird, alright? I can handle myself perfectly well, but I don’t know you all that great, and I don’t want to ruin anything between Feyre and Rhys because you and I can’t be in the same room together.”

“I can be in the same room as you,” Nesta snapped. “And be pleasant.”

“Because you’ve been so pleasant so far today?” Cassian asked, brow raised.

Nesta took a deep breath and said, “I didn’t expect to see you today. I was a little thrown off.”

Cassian nodded then gestured to the empty cup in her hand. “That didn’t help put you back on track?”

Nesta looked down at her empty cup and frowned before pulling a bottle of tequila off one of the shelves and filling her glass halfway. She filled the other half with club soda before getting a lime wedge out of the fridge and dropping it into the cup.

Cassian blinked. “I don’t think you made that correctly.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and took a drink. “What are you, a bartender?”

Cassian chuckled. “At one point. It got me through college before I took over the shop.”

“Of course,” Nesta said, sighing. “Is that how you got so good in bed? Taking women home from the bar after a long night at work?”

Cassian’s head fell to the side as he eyed Nesta. “Good in bed, huh?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know that I enjoyed myself that night.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he replied, taking a step closer, closing the space between them. “It’s hard to fake four orgasms in a row.” They were sharing breath now, and Cassian could hear the subtle catch in Nesta’s. Still, he leaned forward and breathed into her ear, “Has anyone else ever given you four orgasms in a row, sweetheart?”

Her answering silence told him enough.

“I didn’t think so,” he chuckled and pulled back just far enough so that he could see her face. “So I’ve got a proposition for you.”

The lust that had made her eyes go molten vanished suddenly and her gaze turned wary. “And what’s that?”

“You don’t like me, that’s pretty clear. And to be honest, you’re far too stuck up for me to ever be able to see anything lasting longer than a few weeks-.”

“I’m not going out on another date with you,” she interrupted, crossing her own arms. The move did nothing but perk her tits up higher.

Cassian pretended not to notice. “And I don’t want to go on another date with you. Like I said, it would be a waste of time. Why bother with the small talk and overpriced meal when we could skip straight to what we both want?”

Nesta blinked. He couldn’t be asking what she thought he was.

He continued, his eyes staying firmly on hers. “I don’t have a lot of spare time for dating, not running the shop full time and raising my daughter. Something tells me you’re the type who works more hours than you need to. We’re both busy. But you can’t tell me the other night wasn’t amazing.”

Nesta nibbled on her bottom lip. “And you’re wanting to set up an…arrangement of sorts?”

His eyes tracked the movement, remembering what those teeth and that tongue felt like against his own, on his neck, on other parts of his body. “Of sorts. There’d be rules, of course. No sleepovers, for instance.”

“Right,” she breathed, nodding. “And we have to respect the others' schedules. If one of us is busy, too bad.”

“Fair,” Cassian agreed, and he could no longer help his wandering eyes. “If you’re coming to my place it has to be after eight. Arya’s out cold by then. She never sees you there.”

Nesta let out a breath. “Agreed. And if you come to mine, I suppose you’ll need my address. You can text me. My number is on the card I gave out from my studio.”

Oh, he knew. He’d kept that card just in case. “Anything else?” He asked.

“No cuddling,” Nesta said, pointedly. “Cuddling means catching feelings which is also not allowed.”

“Deal.” Cassian held out his hand, though there wasn’t much space between them. “We can either make it official with a handshake or a kiss. Your choice.”

He held his breath while Nesta leaned up on her toes, her lips just barely brushing over his. He was about to capture her lips with his own, see what he could do about getting rid of that navy bikini so he could enjoy what was beneath it.

But suddenly her hands closed around his cock and she squeezed, but it didn’t fill him with pleasure like he would have hoped.

He groaned and dropped to his knees as Nesta took a step back and headed for the door. “Text me. I’ll send you my address from there.”

Cassian could only watch as Nesta walked out of the pool house and into the house proper. He also couldn’t help but wonder what he had just gotten himself into.

#snacmc collabs #isn’t she lovely #isl #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #cassian #nesta archeron #daddy cassian #snelbz x theladyofdeath