Cass felt like his whole body was floating. His mind was hazy, his breaths heavy and hard, and his body was aching. He wanted, he craved, he needed.
He just couldn't put a word to what that need was.
Cass panted, his hands moving, but he was detached from what actions they were taking. Given how he was feeling, he knew he was in hell week, probably in a period of lucidity, but he hadn't picked up on what he was doing yet.
He was having a hard time feeling his mouth, his tongue feeling thick, heavy, weighted. Fuck. He wanted something in it. Something to distract, to fill.
He felt so fucking empty.
"Please." The words left Cass' mouth, and he wasn't even sure what he was asking for. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard, and felt a deep, dangerous rumble fill the air.
Cass realised his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. Slowly, he opened them, staring up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his hands moving.
