Chapter 52
CEZAR
I will have all of her, every goddamn piece of her will be mine. I’ll strip away every lingering doubt in her beautiful, destructive mind until the only thing she can think of is me.
The door shut behind us, sealing us in our own world. For a brief moment, I faltered. My body tensed, an unfamiliar uncertainty sneaking in—like I was a damn virgin.
This is different. This is Lina. This is my Petal. Everything must be perfect.
I must please her in a way that would ruin her, ensuring that no one else could ever satisfy her the way I do.
Only me, for as long as she lives.
She shifted slightly, a trace of nervousness crossing her eyes.
Even better.
I turned my back to hide the grin threatening to break through. If she saw it, she’d throw some snark my way, and I wasn’t about to lose control yet. Everything was arranged exactly how I needed it. Every detail in place.
“Are you thirsty?” The question came out casual, though I was anything but that.
I opened the mini-fridge and handed her a bottle before she could respond. She drank without pause, her throat working in slow, hypnotic movements.
Then she looked at me. Really looked.
Her gaze darkened.
“Take off your clothes, Cezar.”
No doubt. Just raw, unfiltered desire.
“Yes, my Petal.” My clothes hit the floor in a matter of seconds. The castle air chilled my skin, making every nerve feel awake, frantic, and ready to burn. I felt so fucking alive.
Her tone softened, though the command stayed woven inside it. “Cezar… I want you to do what you want tonight.”
Knowing she was handing the control to me willingly set every instinct in me on fire.
I stepped in close, letting my presence swallow the space between us. My fingers traced the curve of her jaw, tilting her face up so she had to meet my eyes. “The only thing I ever want, Petal, is to please you.” My voice wavered with need. “Will you let me?”
Her and me, me and her, her and me, me and her…
Forever and ever.
Her lips parted, breathless. “Always.”
I couldn’t stop the wicked grin that surfaced as I scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. Why the hell was she still dressed? The moment she hit the sheets, I found my knife. The blade snapped open with a sound that made me think of home.
We are meant for this violence.
Straddling her, I dragged the cold metal across her skin, slow enough to watch her breath catch. Her shirt split beneath the blade, falling in strips and scraps, revealing a lace bra she absolutely would’ve stabbed me over if I ruined it.
She smirked at me while I pulled her upright, fingers working the clasp at her back. I took the bra off carefully because I valued my life. She laid down, settling into place like a goddamn dream.
All I wanted was to be inside her.
I pecked her forehead, then mapped kisses down her body, slow and open-mouthed. She squirmed, her breath breaking each time I found new skin to claim. I didn’t need to ask for what she wanted. Her body told me everything I needed to know.
My cock was leaking and painfully hard. Every brush of her against me made it feel like I could cum, untouched. I spread her legs, pushed my face between her thighs, and started eating her pussy. She tasted like I died and went to heaven. Sometimes, I think that bullet did actually kill me.
My patience was wearing thin when she said, “Please, Cezar, fuck me.”
I halted, savoring those sweet, filthy, pleading words. She was begging me. My fucking needy girl.
I didn’t want to hurt her, so I slid my fingers into her first. Slow enough to feel every tremor, every flutter around me.
I curled them just right, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out and clamp down around me.
Her legs trembled, thighs squeezing in as if she could trap me there forever.
My name spilled from her mouth, a broken plea.
I drew my hand back, dragging my fingers through her slick heat and smearing her need all over my skin. Then I circled her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She reached for me—my wrist, my arm, anything to pull me closer.
“Please,” she breathed.
I lined myself up between her legs, the thick head of my cock pressing right where she needed me. I didn’t push in. Not yet. I wanted her squirming, restless, desperate enough to hurt. When her hips lifted to meet mine, I caught her chin, making her look at me.
“No rushing this,” I growled. “You’re going to feel every inch.”
I eased forward, slow enough to be cruel. The first stretch tore a gasp from her lips, her body clenching around me like she was made to fit only me. Inch by inch, I pushed deeper, watching her eyes haze, her mouth falling open with pleasure.
Petal moaned, adjusting her body so I could sink deeper, so I could fuck her harder. No matter how close I was to her, it would never be close enough.
So warm.
So fucking tight.
The way her pussy held me with every thrust was driving me insane. The way she gasped for air, fists tangled in the sheets, everything strained, like she was holding on for dear life because she knew I’d drag her under.
She was perfect.
Every raw, shameless piece of her was mine.
And I did this.
Look at what I’ve made of her.
A chuckle rumbled from my chest. She met my stare through half-lidded eyes. The same hunger burning in her that was clawing through my veins—a hunger that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with what we’d become to one another.
We were the best and worst thing to ever happen to each other.
And it felt so fucking good to be bad.
My pace turned ruthless, every snap of my hips sending her further into that beautiful mess she made just for me.
Her nails dug into my back; sharp little reminders that she could give as good as she took.
But her body… her body belonged to me, and right now, it was begging for the finish we’d both been waiting for.
“Fuck… Petal—”
She clenched hard, quivering, and her cry echoed through the room. That was it for me. I drove in deep and stayed there, spilling inside her, filling her until her whole body melted beneath me.
Her head fell back, every trace of composure gone. I could feel the pulse of her release, taking everything I had to give. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My hand locked around her hip, holding her there.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of our labored breathing.
When her lashes finally lifted, I tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. She was wrecked in the best fucking way.
“You good, Petal?”
A tired smile curved her lips. I eased out of her slowly, watching her flinch at the loss. My cum spilled out of her, and that possessive spark hit me again, impossible to ignore.
I grabbed the rag I’d set aside earlier, still warm, and cleaned her gently with smooth, careful strokes. She hummed, eyes closing as I pressed a kiss to her thigh before pulling the blanket over her.
When I climbed into bed beside her, I didn’t just pull her close—I dragged her to me. Chest to chest, her head tucked under my chin, her scent branding my skin. My hand settled on her hip, thumb tracing circles, relishing in the warmth of her.
“You’re mine,” I whispered into her hair.
She didn’t argue.
Her breathing steadied against my ribs. And even though I wanted to stay in that quiet, in that softness she never gave anyone else, my thoughts took me somewhere I didn’t want to go.
The comfort of her body made it harder to face.
She deserved to know the truth—the parts of me I’d tried hard to bury. The pieces that made me the monster I never wanted her to see.