Chapter 567: Sun-Kissed

Cassius’s mouth had already been busy for several long minutes, his lips and tongue working over the lace of her bra with relentless devotion.

He’d licked paths across the fabric, tracing the swell of each breast before closing his mouth over the stiff peaks beneath.

He sucked gently at first, then harder, drawing the lace between his teeth, tugging until Carmela’s back arched and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

The white material had grown soaked—two dark, wet patches blooming right at the tips of the cups, clinging transparently to her skin.

And through the damp lace he could just make out the faint outline of her nipples, hard and swollen, begging for more.

He pulled back slightly, breathing hot against her chest, and let out a low, hungry groan.

"Enough teasing through this damn thing." He muttered, voice rough. "I need the real thing. All of it."

Cassius didn’t wait for permission this time.

His patience had burned away somewhere between the first wet kiss and the way Carmela whimpered.

His fingers slipped beneath the lace cups of her bra and he slowly pulled her bra down.

The bra peeled away like a curtain, exposing the full, heavy weight of her bare breasts to the cool air...and to his starving gaze.

And seeing this, Carmela’s breath hitched.

Panic flared in her crimson eyes again, and her hands twitched as if to stop him—but they didn’t rise.

She knew, on some mortified level, that this was necessary. That the fire under her skin wouldn’t be quenched any other way.

And more honestly still, she simply didn’t have the strength left to fight him.

Not when every nerve ending felt raw and electric.

So she only watched, cheeks burning, as the lace finally slipped beneath her breasts, lifting and presenting them fully.

Cassius froze.

His eyes went wide, lips parting on a silent exhale.

They were...perfect.

Not the largest he’d ever seen—nothing like the overflowing, plush handfuls of Isabelle, Diana or Nala—but shape-wise?

Absolute perfection.

Firm yet soft, proudly forward-thrusting, like two ripe mangoes hanging heavy and high on her chest.

The gentle downward sweep of the underside curved gracefully before turning upward into a perky, defiant lift at the tip.

The weight made them sway just slightly with every shaky breath she took, but they didn’t sag—they sat high and proud, as if sculpted by an artist who refused to compromise.

And then...the nipples.

Bright, tender pink.

A delicate, almost fragile rose-petal pink that stood in stunning, almost shocking contrast to the deep chocolate of her skin.

Cassius couldn’t help himself.

He pulled back slightly, one hand still cupping the underside of her left breast, and used his thumb and forefinger to gently pinch and tug the right nipple forward, watching it stretch and bounce back.

"Carmela." He said, voice hushed with genuine awe. "Look. Look at this. Your nipples are pink. Actually pink. Can you believe that?!"

Carmela’s face exploded with heat. She glared down at him, mortified beyond words.

"Is that...really something you need to announce right now?" She snapped, voice cracking. "Did I ask for a color commentary on my n-nipples? And why are you even surprised? There’s no way this is the first bare chest you’ve ever seen!"

"No, no, it’s not that. I’m not shocked you have nipples, Carmela."

Cassius shook his head slowly, still staring, still gently rolling the pink bud between his fingers.

"It’s the color. I mean...usually women with skin as dark and gorgeous as yours have darker areolas. Deep brown, maybe purplish...But these?"

He circled both nipples now with his thumbs, slow, reverent spirals that made her thighs clench.

"These are pale, delicate pink. Like the inside of a flower. So soft-looking against all this rich color...it’s almost unreal."

He tugged lightly again, watching the pink tips stretch and snap back.

"They look...strange, in the best way. Like they don’t belong and yet they make everything ten times more seductive."

Carmela bit her lip, trying and failing to stifle a whimper.

"But don’t get me wrong." He added quickly. "They’re beautiful. The contrast is insane. Sexy as hell. I just...wasn’t expecting it."

And something in his fascination, in the raw wonder on his face, loosened something inside her.

The heat in her body was doing strange things—making her tongue looser than it had ever been.

"It’s...the original color." She mumbled, looking away, voice small. "The rest of me is...like this for now."

Cassius blinked, fingers still lazily toying with her nipples.

"Original color? What do you mean?"

Carmela exhaled shakily as he gave both buds a gentle squeeze.

"Vampires...we’re born pale." She admitted, barely above a whisper. "Skin like moonlight. Porcelain. No one is born dark. But the sun doesn’t kill us outright, not like the stories say."

"Instead, it burns us...or rather, it tans us. Deeply."

"The more we’re out in daylight, the darker we get."

Cassius’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. His hands stilled for a moment, then resumed their gentle groping, kneading the full weight of her breasts as he listened.

"So if I stayed inside forever, only moved at night...I’d be much paler. Almost white. But I don’t care about hiding from the sun. I train in it, walk in it, live in it. So my skin darkened to this."

She gestured vaguely at herself.

"But some parts like this never change colour...and stay the original color."

She thenshook her head, horrified at her own openness.

"God, I can’t believe I’m explaining this. W-Why am I telling you this? It must be this damn fire in me! It’s making me say ridiculous things."

But Cassius couldn’t hear her and he was busy letting his imagination run wild—picturing her with moon-pale skin, white hair flowing over porcelain shoulders, those same pink nipples standing out even more starkly.

He exhaled slowly, then shook his head.

"Carmela...I’m serious. I think you should stay exactly like this."

She blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"I mean it." His voice turned firm, almost pleading. "I’m sure you’d be stunning pale like some ethereal moon goddess. But this..."

He cupped her breasts fully again, lifting them, thumbs brushing those rosy tips.

"This deep, warm, coffee-colored skin...with your white hair, those crimson eyes, and these perfect pink nipples? It’s unreal. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen."

He leaned closer, expression earnest.

"Please. I’ve never asked you for anything. I’ve given you everything you needed here, never pushed, never demanded."

"But now...I’m begging."

"At least while you’re staying in this house, keep your tan. Walk in the sun. Have a picnic outside. Stay this gorgeous dark shade. I’ll even build a pool just for you to go sunbathing"

Carmela stared at him, incredulous. "I don’t care what you—"

"Please, Carmela." His voice dropped, soft and pleading and he gave her the most ridiculous, earnest puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen on a grown man.

"You’re utterly breathtaking right now. This contrast...it’s perfect. I want to see you like this every day. So, please?"

She opened her mouth to snap at him—then closed it.

He really hadn’t asked for anything before.

He’d helped her, fed her, sheltered her, and now...he was practically on his knees begging just to keep looking at her like this.

Something warm and traitorous twisted in her chest.

"Fine." She muttered, looking away, cheeks burning. "It’s not like I was planning to hide inside anyway. I like the sun. So you don’t have to worry about it."

Cassius’s face lit up like she’d handed him the world.

"Oh, thank god." He breathed, relief and joy clear in his voice. "That’s such a relief. I get to see sexy, sun-kissed Carmela every single day."

He pulled her closer by the waist, pressing her bare breasts against his chest for a moment, grinning up at her.

"And you know what? I’m so happy right now...I think I deserve a reward."

Before she could ask what he meant, he dipped his head and closed his lips around one bright pink nipple.

The first hot, wet pull of his mouth drew a sharp, broken cry from her throat.

"Ahhh—!"

"Lick!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~"

He sucked gently at first, tongue swirling around the tender bud, then harder—hollowing his cheeks, lashing the tip, grazing it lightly with teeth.

His hand cupped and lifted the other breast, thumb flicking the neglected nipple in time with each pull of his mouth.

Carmela’s head fell back, hair spilling over her shoulders, fingers digging into his hair as the fire inside her finally began to shift—pain melting into a different, deeper burn.