Page 37 of Cassian is Getting Out

Ruari covered Cassian’s hand with his own, adjusting the angle, guiding his grip lower until the head of his cock sat flush on Cassian’s rim. He rubbed the crown across it, spreading the mess of slick between them.

Cassian whimpered. His eyelashes fluttered shut, then open, as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to watch or concentrate on feeling. “Alpha…” His thighs trembled around Ruari’s hips.

Ruari held still. His arms shook with the effort of not moving. Cassian’s grip tightened on the base of his shaft. Cassian tilted his hips, exhaled, and pulled him in.

The head of Ruari’s cock popped past the resistance of his rim. His eyes, when they lifted to Ruari’s, were glassy and stunned.

“Oh,” Cassian breathed. “Oh.”

The car had never felt smaller. Ruari’s knee ground into the carpeted footwell, and every muscle in his body was locked, resisting the need to drive his hips forward and bury himself to the root inside this omega.

Cassian fed Ruari’s cock into him, his breath snagging with each push forward. The angle was awkward. Cassian’s shoulders were wedged into the door, the balled-up sweatshirt doing heroic work behind his head, and one of his legs was hooked over the back of the passenger seat in a configuration that couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

“Feel so good, alpha,” Cassian breathed, and his hips pushed down onto Ruari.

The heat of him was extraordinary, a molten, clenching grip that squeezed along his full length. “Move when you’re ready,” Ruari managed.

Cassian shifted into a stuttering rock of his hips. It was clumsy and wonderful. His knee kept snagging the seatbelt buckle, and on every upstroke his elbow clipped the window with a dull thud.

“Am I doing it right?” Cassian whispered.

“You’re doing it perfectly, Cass.” Ruari held him by his hips. “Move exactly like you want to.”

Cassian braced his foot on the driver’s seat, and the leverage let him lift higher before dropping down with a wet, obscene sound that echoed off the car’s interior.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast.”

“You’re not going too fast, Cass.”

“Tell me if I’m going too slow, then.”

Ruari took hold of Cassian’s cock. The omega’s whole body jerked, his back arching off the door, driving Ruari deeper into him. Ruari stroked him in time with the uneven rhythm of his hips, his thumb rubbing the slick head, pressing circles into it while Cassian fucked himself down onto his cock.

“Like that?” Ruari said, against Cassian’s ear. “That good?”

“Don’t stop,” Cassian gasped, his fingernails biting into Ruari’s shoulder through his shirt. “Ruari, don’t stop, don’t.”

“You’re brilliant.” He tightened his grip, matching its pace to the frantic hitch of Cassian’s breathing. “You’re so fucking brilliant, Cass.”

Cassian came, his body seizing around Ruari’s cock in tight, rhythmic clenches that finished Ruari a breath after him. His knot swelled with it, and Cassian flinched at the first tug against his rim. Ruari’s hips wanted to drive it home; he got a fist around the base instead and kept the knot outside him, spilling deep with his knuckles jammed against Cassian’s arse and his other hand still wrapped around the omega’s softening cock.

Cassian’s breathing slowed. There was slick on the leather, and come on Ruari’s stomach.

“Ruari.”

“Mm.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have our first time in my car. We would have ruined it.”

“Leather should wipe clean…” Ruari chuckled.

He retrieved his sweatshirt from behind Cassian’s head and used it to clean him up, wiping between his thighs. Cassian lay boneless along the seat, one leg still hung over the headrest, watching Ruari work with half-lidded eyes.

“You’re very thorough,” Cassian observed.

“I’m not having you walk into Colin’s house leaking.” Ruari wiped at the crease of Cassian’s arse, where slick had pooled and gone tacky on the leather. The sweatshirt was beyond saving. He balled it up and tossed it into the footwell. “Lift.”

Cassian lifted his hips obediently, and Ruari tugged his joggers up over his thighs and settled the waistband at his navel. Cassian’s T-shirt was still rucked to his armpits. He pulled it down himself, smoothing the hem.