Chapter 44
ADELINA
“Lina, do you give each death a rose?” Cezar asked.
“I guess so. I try to, when it’s possible. The specific hits get one. The slaughters are harder. It turned into a ritual. If I skip it, the death feels unfinished.”
I wasn’t sure why I admitted that, but it felt natural.
Talking to Cezar always did. I was getting comfortable, too comfortable.
A part of me wanted to empty every dark corner of my life into his hands…
but I couldn’t. Not yet. Still, he affected me in ways I hated to acknowledge.
The man kept me hot and bothered ninety percent of the time he was anywhere near me.
“Let’s go into our room,” I said, taking the blanket off us.
Standing, I held out my hand.
As complicated as things were, when I was with Cezar, I was so content. The world could end, and it wouldn’t matter.
I led him inside and pointed to the chair in the center of the room. It wasn’t one of my decorative ones, just a wide, sturdy wooden chair meant to replace the one Dorin made me break. It could hold two smaller people or one Cezar.
“Sit.”
Immediately, he went over and sat. Excitement stirred under my skin. It had been a while since we’d played properly. I didn’t want to aggravate his healing wounds, but I needed this… and he did too.
I grabbed my black bag and pulled out a rope. I could work around his shoulder if I was careful. Instinctively, his hands went behind him, offering himself up.
The thought of rough wood scraping against the wounds on his back made me stop.
I kept his shirt on for protection, then reconsidered.
It wasn’t enough, so I grabbed a blanket I didn’t give a shit about, nudged him forward, and draped it across the back of the chair before guiding him against it again.
He breathed out a small sound, excitement within his compliance.
I tied each arm to a back leg of the chair. I’d been practicing knots—ones that distributed pressure farther up, making it harder to escape.
Next, I tugged his pants down, his hips lifting to help me. Once he was exposed, I sat on the bed and admired him.
So open. So vulnerable. Completely mine in this moment.
“Cezar, close your eyes. Think of anything except me. You can’t start this all eager. I’m going to leave you here until you calm down.”
His lips parted. Yeah. I knew. How dare I!
I had plans, and he couldn’t be hard for any of them. Leaving him tied up was a gamble, but I decided to trust his self-control. I let some time crawl by before going back into the room. His eyes were shut, and he was trying so damn hard to be a good boy.
I already had what I needed. I stepped in front of him and fastened the chastity device around him. His eyes flew open and dropped to my hands.
“Let’s begin.” I met his gaze with a devious smile.
A quiet grunt broke free as the lock snapped shut. I set the bag on the bed, letting him watch me unpack lube and a glove. His jaw clenched. His fingers tapped the chair legs. He knew exactly where this was going.
I kneeled between his legs. Bound, nervous, and at my mercy, he was a sight to behold. A rush of heat swept through me.
“Move your hips closer to me,” I instructed, putting on the glove.
He adjusted himself as directed, holding the chair tightly. I knew he wasn’t the most comfortable, but wasn’t that the point?
I spread his thighs with my hand. His muscles were tight, his breath thin. I coated my fingers with lube, and he leaned his head against the chair, inhaling quickly as I pushed one inside him.
I wanted to see if I could find that spot for him. I wanted to turn him on so much that he would break. I cupped his balls, stroking lightly as I explored. “Do you like how that feels?” I asked, squeezing harder as I inserted a second finger.
“Ah—fuck, yes, I like it,” he snarled out, his voice strained and helpless against what I was doing to him. The room filled with the sound of his uneven breathing, the slick movement of lube, and the occasional creak of the chair beneath his grip.
His reactions soaked through my panties. My body pulsed with every sound he gave me. I wondered how much he could take. I added another finger.
“Fuck—” He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his mind focused.
I pumped faster, deeper, still holding his balls, and his whole body started to tremble. His legs parted a little wider, instinctively seeking more. He couldn’t hold himself together under the onslaught of pain and pleasure.
He strained against the ropes, hips twitching, shoulders tight, falling apart. “Petal… fuck—please…” he begged, voice breaking.
“Please what? You want more?” I teased, slowing my pace.
“I want you…” His breath hitched. “I want to be inside you.”
“Not yet, you’re going to have to be a really good boy for that.” I took my hand off his balls and started touching myself while my other hand kept working him. My moans filled the room as I moved.
Pre-cum slicked the metal cage, and my arousal dripped down my fingers. I wanted him just as badly, but I wasn’t done with him yet.
I slowed, then eased my fingers out and peeled off the glove. His body shuddered at the absence. My own juices gleamed across my hand as I unlocked the chastity cage and removed it. Red lines marked his skin where the metal had pressed.
He groaned at the ache, already hard.
“Are you going to please me?” I asked as I stood.
He took in my body, lingering on the wetness sliding from my shorts. “I will please you until the day I die, Petal.”
I didn’t even have time to smile before I had him free. The ropes dropped, and he grabbed me instantly, tossing me onto the bed with a force that stole my breath. Even injured, he was strong enough to ruin me if he ever wanted to—yet he always waited for my permission.
His fingers shoved inside me without warning, and I clawed at his shirt as his mouth collapsed against mine. I didn’t want gentle this time.
“Oh god, Cezar, don’t stop, fuck,” I moaned between kisses.
He stroked himself with his free hand while working me open with the other, hitting every spot he knew would tear me apart. Neither of us lasted long. His breath stuttered, mine tangled with his, and we came hard together, shaking in the same messy rhythm.
Before I could even breathe properly, he buried himself between my thighs and pressed his mouth against me. His tongue cleaned me with slow, greedy passes that sent sparks up my spine. When he finally climbed up to kiss me, he was smiling against my lips.
“Come on. Let’s rinse off. I want to cuddle.”
The shower was quick because if we stayed any longer, neither of us would’ve slept. Crawling into bed, he pulled me against him, his arm around my waist.
It had become our normal. The way he held me. I didn’t want to admit it, but it made me feel safe in a world where nothing ever was.