Chapter 51: The Watching Game
The lights in Velvet Noir bathed the room in golden shadows, warm and wicked. The bass throbbed through Sienna's feet, her pulse syncing with the rhythm as she danced—slow, deliberate, every movement drawn out just to watch him fall apart.
Cassian sat in the velvet chair like a man tethered to nothing. His chest rose and fell faster than the music, and she could see it—that look in his eyes like she'd torn him open. Every sway of her hips, every drag of her gloved hand over her body only made him his eyes burn more.
She twisted around the pole again, hair sweeping her back, and leaned into the movement like it was second nature now. She loved the power of it, the feel of him watching her—utterly undone, but still holding back.
Then he stood up.
She slowed, eyes narrowing as he stepped toward her—but he didn't reach for her. His voice was low, thick with restraint.
"Can I..." His throat worked. "Can I touch myself while you do that?"
Her breath caught.
God, he looked wrecked. The tension in his arms, the hunger in his face. And still, he asked.
Sienna felt the heat roll through her, a dark thrill blooming low in her belly. She tipped her chin up, held his gaze, and said—
"Yes."
His eyes widened, just for a moment. She watched him sink back into the chair, fingers curling under the waistband of his briefs, his hand sliding into place.
"Only if you keep watching me," she added, voice like a dare.
A sharp breath escaped him—almost a moan.
Sienna grinned slowly, wicked and flushed. "But you are not allowed to come. We still got rooms."
He nodded wordlessly, and she turned back to the pole, letting her body melt into the rhythm again—knowing he was right there, watching every single move, hand working slowly as she danced just for him.
But this time, she couldn't help but look back.
Cassian's eyes were locked on hers. His hand moved slowly, deliberately, and the sight of it—of him doing that while staring straight at her—set her body ablaze. He wasn't hiding it. He wasn't shy. His lips were parted, teeth clenched, and that wrecked, gorgeous expression on his face made her knees go soft.
"God, Cass," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could think. "You're so fucking hot when you do that. Don't stop. Just—keep your eyes on me."
He groaned again, louder this time. His hands slowly caressing his length while looking at her made her feel so powerful.
She slid her hand over her own thigh, up to her corset, toying with the laces like she might undo them, just to see how much more ruined he'd get.
"You like watching me while you stroke that cock?" she murmured.
He nodded, biting down on a curse.
Sienna twirled again, slower now, hips rolling, breath catching as she watched him fall apart.
And then—just as his breath began to stutter, his hand moving faster, closer—she walked to him and grabbed his wrist.
"Not yet," she said, voice dark silk. "I said don't come."
Cassian groaned, head falling back, every muscle tight with restraint.
She leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth, and whispered, "I'm not done with you."
Cassian's breath was ragged, his body tense beneath her touch. He let go of himself reluctantly, groaning as she pulled his hand away. She returned to the pole, giving him a look that made his stomach flip. Then she danced again—this time slower, heavier with intent, her body winding like a temptation too sharp to touch.
But it wasn't long before the fire crawling beneath her skin reached her limit. She spun around, eyes wild, and stalked toward him, every movement dripping hunger.
She pushed him back to the velvet chair and straddled his lap in one smooth motion, not teasing now—claiming.
Cassian barely got out a breath before he froze, feeling the press of her bare heat through the thin layer of his briefs.
He blinked down. "You're not wearing—"
"Just the fishnets," she whispered, and ground down hard.
"Fuck," he groaned.
His hands gripped her thighs, and as she rolled her hips again, he felt it—the netting tight, the slick heat of her already soaking.
He reached between them, fingers curling into the delicate weave, and with one harsh tug, tore the fishnets apart at the crotch.
She gasped, breath hot against his neck.
"You want it?" he asked, voice barely human.
She nodded, already lowering herself.
And then she slid down onto his cock—inch by aching inch—moaning his name like it was the only word she remembered.
They lost themselves in the heat of it instantly—bodies colliding, breath tangled, all sense of rhythm forgotten. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out, her moans turning into needy gasps against his ear.
Cassian caught her mouth in his. Kissing her like a man trapped in a dessert needing water.
Cassian wrapped an arm tightly around her back, the other sliding under her thighs as he stood up in one smooth, breathless motion.
"Fuck... Too slow," he growled against her throat. "I need you now."
She barely had time to react before he was carrying her across the room, her legs wrapped around him, her teeth sinking into his neck to muffle the whimper that escaped when he shifted inside her with every step.
He spun her toward the pole, setting her on her feet, bending her slightly forward.
"Hold on," he ordered, breath hot against the shell of her ear.
She did.
He slammed into her from behind, hard and unrelenting, one hand gripping her hip, the other pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her in place. Her palms slid along the cool metal pole, nails scraping for something to anchor herself.
She was already wrecked, crying out with every thrust, eyes fluttering shut as he lost all sense of control—driving into her like it was the only thing that would keep him alive.
"Say my name," he panted, voice dark and broken.
"S—Cassian," she gasped, legs trembling.
He moved faster, deeper. The slap of skin echoed through the room, moans and curses spilling from both of them as the pressure built to blinding heights.
They came together—loud, messy, and raw. Her body arched back into him, his grip bruising as he buried himself inside, shuddering through every wave.
And for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing and the pole creaking slightly under her grip.