Jyn is emphatically not a virgin, but the experiences she's had are relatively uniform: quiet, fast, and impersonal. No feelings. No romance. Cassian’s declared that he wants to show her how sex should be, when you have luxuries like privacy and an actual bed. Jyn was interested. At the time.
She's rapidly reconsidering.
"Cassian," Jyn whines. He’s done nothing so far but kneel on the floor between her legs and kiss them, after spending a whole ten minutes on her breasts. Jyn’s wetter than she’s ever been in her life, she’s more than ready for him to get to the good part, and Cassian is just taking his sweet time.
"What?" Cassian says, like he doesn't know what he's doing to her.
"I am touching you."
"Cassian," Jyn says again, and rolls her hips to make her point.
"Oh, right," he says, as if it had slipped his mind, and licks up her folds to her clit before she has a chance to breathe.
"Fuck," Jyn says, because that's all that she's capable of right now. She's only done this two or three times, but it always seemed somewhat perfunctory, like it was just something you were supposed to do before the real fucking. But this... isn't that. He's as devoted to this task as he is with finding his target in the sights of his rifle, with a single-minded dedication that has her fisting her hands in the sheets to keep from pulling half his hair out. Jyn wonders, a bit wildly, if everyone is capable of doing that with their tongues, or if it’s just him.
"Oh," she says. She can feel herself starting to shake uncontrollably. She's close, she's actually close, just from this, without anything inside her, he just needs to– he's stopping. His face is a mess and her legs are still splayed open expectantly and he's stopping.
"Why are you stopping," Jyn says.
"Because," Cassian says, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, "I'm not done yet." He grins at her. "I have plans."
"Oh, plans," she says. "Wonderful. Do those plans include being inside me sometime this year?"
He just grins at her, standing up to join her on the bed. Jyn scoots back to give him room, until he’s hovering over her on his hands and knees, reaching over her head to the dresser where he keeps his prophylactics. He's even putting it on slowly, Jyn thinks, and briefly considers kicking him before realizing that a bedroom-related injury would only mean she'd have to wait longer.
When he finally slides into her, Jyn actually whimpers in relief.
"Good?" Cassian asks.
"It would feel better if you actually moved," Jyn says, weaving her fingers into his hair so she can pull him down to kiss her. And oh, he does start moving then, slow but purposeful, angled just in the right way to press deliciously against that spot inside her. But it's not enough, Jyn realizes, to get her off. It's good–really good, especially when he uses his free hand to play with her nipples–but it's not enough. She needs him to move faster, she needs room to touch herself, she needs–
"Cassian," Jyn says, "I need to come."
He grins again, which isn't an answer, but he thrusts inside her a little harder, kisses her so that her surprised noise is swallowed by his mouth.
"Come on," Jyn says when her lips are free. She bucks her hips like she did before, and he slows down. He actually slows down, and then he stops, still inside her.
"I told you," Cassian says, with infuriating calm, "I have plans."
"Your plans are stupid."
"I could stop."
"Don't you dare."
"Then," Cassian says, punctuating his words with kisses down her neck, "don't– rush– me."
"I could get myself off," she threatens.
"Of course you could," says Cassian, and he's smiling, the fucker, "but what fun would that be?"
Jyn makes a face at him, but he starts moving again. She understands, a bit, why he wants to draw it out. With anyone else, in this situation, she'd have given up her orgasm and her partner as lost causes. But she hasn't gotten bored, and it hasn't stopped feeling good. No, Cassian is maddeningly good at this. He’s taking the time to find her most sensitive places with that same devotion he showed before, like her body is a map he wants to memorize. It's just frustrating, feeling her pleasure spiral higher and higher without any sort of resolution. Jyn endures it, this too-sweet torture, for long minutes that feel like hours.
When she finally surrenders, she doesn't even mind it. All things considered, if she had to surrender to anyone, it would be him.
"Please," Jyn says. She doesn't care what she sounds like, how desperate she probably looks. It feels like the world has contracted to the slow pull of Cassian's cock in and out of her, and she wants to come more badly than she's ever wanted anything. "Please, Cassian."
Cassian's pace doesn't change, but he adopts a ponderous expression. Like he's considering it. Like there's even a choice. "Well," he says, after thirty agonizing seconds pass. "If you really want to."
"Yes," Jyn sobs, "yes, I do, please, please, Cassian–"
"Shhh," Cassian says, pushing her sweaty hair away from her face. "Switch with me."
Even the two seconds it takes for her to get on top of him feels too long, and Jyn eagerly lowers herself onto him, clenching around him deliberately. Cassian makes a small, involuntary noise in the back of his throat, his self-satisfied smirk dropping for a moment, and Jyn feels inordinately pleased with herself for breaking that spy’s composure of his. She wants to do it again.
"I need you," Jyn says, "please, just fuck me," and oh, finally, finally he's moving at a proper pace, hard and fast, his hands on her hips to keep her stable. She can touch herself like this, and she does, chasing the heat that's been building inside her this entire time. And then she's coming, so hard that for a moment she actually sees stars.
She slumps on top of him, panting. She realizes, somewhat distantly, that he's still going. Good. She doesn't want him out of her just yet.
"Did you–" Cassian asks, and Jyn huffs a laugh.
"Yes," she says, and refrains from adding, What does it look like, you absolute moof-milker? "Now come in me, come on–"
When he comes, it’s with his face buried in her neck, noiseless except for the harsh sound of his breathing in her ear. Sometime, she thinks, she wants to see what his face looks like when he’s not in control, what he sounds like when there’s no one to overhear him except for her.
But she can do that later, when she can feel her face properly again.
“Okay,” Jyn says. She gets off of him and lies down next to him, using his shoulder as her pillow. “I see what you meant. About how it’s supposed to be.”
Cassian doesn’t say I told you so, but he sounds like it when he laughs.