His Sensual Bite

Chapter 3

Cassandra hadn’t been able to see Uncle Alex off; he had left at dawn, unwilling to disturb their sleep. By the time she woke up past eight, the house was silent, except for the occasional chirping of birds outside her window.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stretched before making her way to the kitchen. Since Azi was likely still asleep, she decided to prepare breakfast for the both of them. It was the least she could do after everything he had done for her.

The smell of eggs and toast filled the air as she moved around the kitchen. She wasn’t the best cook, but she figured simple breakfast food was safe enough. As she set the table, the front door suddenly swung open, causing her to flinch.

Azi stepped inside, the morning sun behind him casting a soft glow around his figure. He was dressed only in sweatpants, his toned body glistening with sweat from what must have been an intense workout. His dark hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead, and the slow, measured way he walked in sent an unfamiliar jolt through her.

Cassandra froze, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her.

Azi caught her staring and smirked, amusement flickering in his striking blue eyes as he strode toward her.

She instinctively stepped back, only to find herself trapped against the kitchen island.

“Go-od m-morning?” she stammered awkwardly, feeling her cheeks burn.

Azi chuckled and reached out to pinch her cheek. “It’s still a bit early for you to be drooling over me, little girl,” he teased, ruffling her hair playfully.

Cassandra huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m not a little girl,” she said, trying to sound confident.

Big mistake.

Azi’s gaze flickered towards her chest for a split second, his smirk widening. “Hmm. I guess you’re not—at least, not in that part,” he murmured.

Her face turned scarlet.

Embarrassed, she tried to slip past him, but he stepped closer, blocking her escape. His playful demeanor vanished, and his fingers lightly brushed her earlobe before trailing down her neck. The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

The air between them shifted.

His blue eyes darkened to an almost hypnotic shade, and Cassandra found herself unable to move. The intensity of his gaze pinned her in place. Slowly, he lifted his hand, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip with deliberate care.

Her heart pounded uncontrollably.

She knew this was dangerous—wrong even—but her body refused to pull away. Every nerve in her body was attuned to him, aware of the heat radiating between them. She could barely breathe.

Then, as if a switch flipped, reality crashed back in. Summoning all her willpower, she pushed him back with all her strength and darted out of the kitchen, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Once in the safety of her room, she slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it. Her hands trembled as she touched her lips, still feeling the phantom pressure of his touch.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered.

Frustration and confusion tangled inside her. Azi was supposed to be like a brother—her protector. So why did her body react this way? Why did her heart stutter when he looked at her like that?

She shook her head violently.

“Definitely not what a brother would do,” she muttered, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

For the next few hours, she refused to leave her room. She busied herself by scrolling through her phone, reading random articles, and pretending the morning incident hadn’t happened.

But by lunchtime, her growling stomach forced her to peek outside.

To her surprise, Azi stood just outside her door, holding a tray of food.

She froze, torn between gratitude and lingering embarrassment.

Azi arched a brow. “Are you planning to starve yourself?”

Startled, she tried to shut the door again, but he quickly wedged his hand between the frame.

A sharp hiss of pain escaped him.

Cassandra’s heart stopped.

She yanked the door open, panic flaring in her chest. “I’m sorry! What do I do? You’re hurt!” she cried, grabbing his injured hand without thinking.

Azi let out a quiet chuckle, amused by her overreaction. He gently touched her head, trying to calm her down. “Relax. It’s just a small bruise.”

She wasn’t convinced.

Her gaze flickered to the tray he had been holding—it had fallen to the floor, the food scattered across the carpet. The sight made her chest tighten with guilt.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Azi’s smile faded, clearly startled by her reaction. With a heavy sigh, he pulled her into a comforting hug.

“Hey, stop crying,” he murmured. “There’s still food downstairs.”

“But you’re hurt. I hurt you!” she sobbed, gripping his shirt.

Azi sighed again and, without hesitation, scooped her up with his uninjured arm.

Cassandra let out a small yelp. “What are you doing?!”

“Taking care of this,” he said simply, carrying her down the stairs as if she weighed nothing.

She wanted to argue but was too flustered to form words.

Once they reached the living room, Azi set her down on the couch and motioned for her to grab the first-aid kit. She quickly complied, her hands shaking as she opened the box.

Azi sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap effortlessly. “Now, little sis, treat your brother’s wound,” he said, flashing a gentle smile.

Cassandra huffed, dabbing disinfectant onto his hand. “Begging or saying please doesn’t suit you, brother,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Azi smirked. “You’re right.” His voice dropped a notch. “But I only beg or say please for my Cassy.”

Her breath hitched.

The way he said my Cassy sent an unexpected rush of heat through her.

His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her closer. His lips brushed against her shoulder, a barely-there touch that sent her senses into overdrive.

Cassandra stiffened. “Azi…”

“I’ll beg or say please only if you want me to, Cassy,” he whispered, his piercing gaze locking onto hers.

Her emotions swirled into chaos—longing, confusion, fear.

A part of her wanted to push him away again, to stop this before it spiraled into something she couldn’t control. But another part of her, one she barely recognized, didn’t want to stop it.

Didn’t want to stop him.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure which part would win.