Veiled Calls at Twilight

19. Kazia

19

KAZIA

L ooking out the window at the freeway, I finally realized that I was leaving LA and didn't think I was ever coming back. My childhood home, my car, my mom’s grave. All of it was here, and there was a good chance I would never see them again. Rubbing the heel of my palm against my chest, trying to rub out the pain building.

The smell of the taco shop down the street, the calling of the neighbors' cats at five am begging for milk, the simple pleasures of going to class and taking notes, devouring the lesson plan, all was gone. Something I will never get back. I tried my best to hold it in, even as my vision watered; I bit my cheek to remind myself that tears would do no good with these men. It had already been decided. There was no going back.

The car bounced as it went over a pothole. Pain burst at my right shoulder, and I gritted my teeth through it.

“Watch it, Nicu!” Cezar yelled next to me, hovering over me like he was trying to help but didn't know how. So, instead, he picked on his brothers. “Do you need me to drive the fucking car?” He paused before laughing like a madman, “Even Nan said she could drive better than you.”

Nicu glared at him through the rearview mirror, opening his mouth to say something when his eyes slid over to me. He shut his mouth, furiously looking at the road ahead. “We’re almost there.”

The last four days have been a blur of sleep, medication, and men telling me what to do. It was cute at first, being looked after by men who I thought would kill me at first glance, but now it was getting irritating. Cezar followed me into the bathroom this morning, and when I told him I could take off my underwear with one hand, he asked me, lifting his hands. “Why would you do that when you have both of these at your disposal?”

We went back and forth for a while, and I learned -the hard way- that arguing with Cezar was like navigating a minefield. Every time you thought you were getting closer to an acceptable resolution, it was, in fact, a trap for you to step on a mine. I finally told him that if he didn't leave the room, I would only ask Ion to help me from here on out. That got him out of the room and closed the door so fast… until he waited outside, knocking every ten seconds to check if I needed his help.

Then, there was Ion.

He was a whole basket case of longing glances and lingering looks, but he made a very big effort to make sure not to touch me unless I explicitly asked him to. Like ever.

When I needed his help to get out of the tub, he had his back turned to me, walking backward before asking if it was okay for him to turn around. Was it okay that he looked down to grab me? Was it okay for him to carry me to the bed? It was either feast or fucking famine with this guy, and it was getting on my last nerve.

I get that he was trying to atone for when he was drunk, but to be honest, my body hurt like a bitch, and it felt like I was flying across the world to my ancestral land just to be put down for slaughter. I could use a hot guy wanting to fuck me right now. Take my mind off of everything, and the resident fuckboy was now acting like a saint.

The car stopped, and Nicu's authoritative voice rang clear, “We're here.” An eerie silence filled the air, like soldiers about to head out to war, where they knew one of us wouldn't return.

Looking out at my city, the city I grew up in, one more time, my heart tugged. This was the only place I knew, my home. Tears pricked at my eyes, and I closed them, taking one last final breath.

Shaking off those thoughts, I opened the door, but a long, ink-covered arm shot out, reaching across from me and shutting it. Cezar’s voice whispered along my neck. “My wife doesn’t open doors; they open for her.”

Clenching my fist, I raised a brow at him. I wasn't his damn wife. Just because he speaks it into existence doesn’t mean it's real. You need a wedding, rings, a dress, and consent. You know, the basics. Oh, and a little piece of paper that says you're legally bound to each other. He always had the same reply.

“Yes, we are. We're married in the Romani way. I kidnapped you, so you're mine.”

He laughed and went out his door, telling Cal that he had always been this smooth; he just hadn't met the right woman yet. I once asked him how he knew so much about Romani. His face stilled, all traces of humanity draining away as he said, “My mother was Romani.” I instantly regretted asking.

He jogged around the car, opened my door, and offered his hand. A psycho gentleman. When was I ever going to find a unicorn like this again?

Chuckling at my joke, I took his hand with my good arm. Ion came up next to me on the other side, carrying the bag of clothes Cezar had gotten for me. His gaze flicked to my hand in his brother’s, heat flashing across his face before he looked at me. Then, like he just remembered he left the oven on, he turned away and walked at a pace he knew I couldn’t keep up with. “I’ll go check on the fight.”

The frustration in his voice rolled off him before he left, and I couldn't help but watch, out of the corner of my eye, his long, lean body walking away in those tight suit pants that looked like they were sewn on him. Even with his inconsistent attitude, he was gorgeous, like the gods sculpted him. Or his father.

Shutting those thoughts down, I turned into another hard, muscular chest. Cezar’s gentle hands caught me, ensuring minimal impact as he leaned down and whispered, “You like what you see?”

“W-what-,”

He swiped his thumb across my lips, his eyes burning with desire as he licked his lips. “Ion. I saw you looking at my brother and wanted to confirm that what I saw was correct.” He stepped closer; we would be chest to chest if I didn't have this damn sling on my arm. He kissed the hollow of my neck, causing me to hiss at the shot of pleasure that went down my body. “It's okay. I think he wants you to. They both do, but Nicu isn't ready yet.”

“Let me guess,” I sassed out, “the voices told you so?”

His hand at my mouth traveled down below my jaw, gripping it hard, rubbing his face into my hair, taking an air full. “While the voices like to judge my brothers and me, this was more of my observation as your first husband. He needs some work, and I won't approve of his husband's status until he proves he's worth it.”

Trying to understand his logic, I asked, “And Ion’s worth it…worth second husband status?”

His thumb pushed my chin up, and he looked down at me, our foreheads touching. He looked at my eyes like I was the only thing on this earth. The only thing that mattered. “He’s getting there. Atoning for his sins.”

My body froze, eyes bounding between his, trying to see if he knew what he was talking about or if it was just some flippant saying. His eyes darkened, and the air around him shifted into something dark and violent. “Oh yes, Zia. I know what happened. They told me, and I had every intention of finding him and ripping his head off his body, but when I saw you lying on his chest sound asleep, the bottle of booze on the floor, and his pain-filled eyes met mine, I knew he would do more damage to himself than I ever could.”

His vicious chuckle vibrated against my lips, and my mind and body warred over wanting to hear Cezar and wanting to grab his neck and slam his lips onto mine. “He has been caring for you and keeping his hands to himself all this time,” his eyes took on a sharp glint, “I’ve been enjoying throwing my status in his face, but it's time to grow up.” Furrowing my brows, I tried to understand what he was saying, but it was Cezar, so it was hard.

Directing my chin down, his lips brushed along my forehead, something so sweet it was directly opposite where this conversation started. “Sharing is forbearing, right? That's how the saying goes?”

It wasn't, but I didn't see the need to tell him, so I nodded like usual until I digested what he said. “You…,” not thinking it was possible, “you wouldn't mind your brother and I…”

His lips turned up as he bent his head back, looking at the sky. “If that's what you want, I’m fine with it.” He looked down, running a finger down my neck, leaving a hot trail in its wake. “You were always meant for the three of us. The voices told me you would help us, that we’re broken and need you.” His finger ran down between my breasts, and he took in a ragged breath. “The only reason I’m first is because I had the voices telling me. If either of my brothers had voices, they would be in the first spot, which would’ve driven me crazy. So I guess it's good to have these guys in here,” he tapped his head, grinning down at me. The story Nicu told me weaved its way to the forefront.

Cal, Nan, M… his voices were his first victims, yet he was a victim himself that night. At first, I thought about how my professors would analyze it. He was an abusive and controlling father, forced to do something he wouldn't have done, and therefore, he was manifesting these “Voices” as a way to cope. It made sense.

Then how did he know about what happened with Ion? He wasn't there, and I know I didn't talk about it, and Ion seemed too sorry to talk about it…were they really…?

“It's here.” Nicu's monotone voice sounded next to me, and I jumped. Hands clasped behind his back, he turned on his heel and walked to a medium-sized plane that looked like it could seat twenty to thirty people.

Following Nicu, Cezar scoffed, mumbling under his breath. “I know Nan, he’ll need to do something big to earn his spot. Fucking weirdo.”

I would’ve laughed, but every muscle seized as I stared at the plane. Forcing myself to move, each shaky step getting heavier, this ominous doom in my chest weighing me down the closer we got to the stairs. It didn't help that Ion and Nicu were waiting at the bottom, watching me, like guards at a prison, watching an inmate walk to the chair. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, like air wasn’t coming in, only going out.

A strong hand settled on my back, not pressing me forward, just sitting in support. “Let's go, princess. One step at a time.” Slowly tipping my head up, a set of strong, piercing dark eyes stared down at me, reassuring me that even if everything wasn't okay, I could face it, even if it was my death.

Strength spread from his palm on my back, and I closed my eyes and let it take over. With a trembling hand, I gripped the rail and took the first step, keeping my eyes on that plane doorway until a man in a uniform stepped into view and held out his hand. His accent was heavy and thick as he bent his head. “Welcome aboard, miss.”

Something sliced through the air between the man and me, causing us to jump back as something landed with a thud. We both looked at the handle of a knife sticking out of the partition. Angry steps followed as Cezar’s menacing tone got closer. Even though his eyes held a deadly edge, his lips tipped up into a smile, making the interaction jarring between the two personalities. “Touch her again, and I’ll hang you upside down in the back of the plane, rearrange your insides like scrambled eggs, and feed you to stray dogs when we land.” Keeping his eyes down, he nodded and scurried into the cockpit, looking like he was about to pee his pants.

“Cezar, he was only-”

I was cut off short when his hand settled on my waist and maneuvered me into the plane. “Ya, sure, but the facts remain. If he touches you, he’ll feel pain. So much pain and misery that he will regret ever being in your orbit.”

Just as I was about to argue my point, I turned to take my seat and jerked to a stop. Oversized dark gray leather seats, two on each side, lined the first two rows of windows, facing each other with a mahogany table between them. Behind those seats on the left was a solid L-shaped gray couch with light gray and black pillows. Across from the couch was a full bar, all in that piano-finished mahogany. At the back was a closed door, but TVs were on either side of the door and at the front of the plane. Each seat even had a tablet in front of it. Every inch of this plane spoke the language of luxury and money, something I knew nothing about.

He guided me to one of the seats, sitting across the table from me. The chilled leather of the seats felt more like a cage, keeping me in place. The air in the cabin thickened as Ion and Nicu sat down in the two seats across the plane from us, the space feeling smaller and smaller the longer I sat there. Distracting myself, I watched Ion fidgeting in his seat, Nicu’s dark gaze on me the entire time as I tried not to notice. In different ways, both of them reminded me that this was just a gilded chariot taking me to Hell.

When I was alone, not distracted by Ion’s face or Cezar’s antics, my mind would be consumed with what Nicu told me. I could tell he told me that to scare me, to make me realize what I was going into, and to prepare myself, but all I kept thinking about was them and the anger I felt towards their father.

My heart bleeds for Ion and how much his mother must have meant to him, even as she did the unthinkable and caused him so much pain in her escape. I shed tears for Cezar, for the little boy who must’ve been so consumed with guilt and pain for what he’d done and then to be locked up in the dark, alone with the dead bodies of the people you cared about the most. It was vile and cruel on another level…just to make him into a sharp and deadly tool at his father's disposal.

Then there was Nicu.

While he never talked about it, I could tell he didn’t escape his father's wrath. This past week, I’ve paid special attention to him and noticed that he froze for a second whenever his father was mentioned. He would always turn my prescription bottles to face forward and be perfectly centered and in a line. When he set down a tray of food in front of me, if the fork was slightly off, he would center it on the napkin before leaving. He always smoothed down his clothes, like the wrinkles from sitting bothered him. All of this signaled his need for control and order, something that was a textbook for childhood trauma.

The plane shook, and I grabbed both armrests to steady myself. Pain sliced at my shoulder, and I squeezed my lips shut from crying out. Soon, the plane leveled out, and I took a shaky breath.

Cezar was kneeling in front of me in a flash, glaring at my shoulder like everything was its fault. “I know, Nan, I know.” Blowing exasperated, he took my hand and looked at me. “I think you should lie down. It might be easier on your wound.”

When I looked up, Ion stood, his brows pinched, and his hands clenched, glaring at Cezar.

Nicu came out of nowhere from the front of the plane. “I have instructed the captain that if he doesn't want to lose a finger, he will inform us when there might be turbulence.” His tone held a hint of rage, and it took me a moment to realize they all cared for me in their own way.

“Sure. Laying down sounds nice.” I let Cezar help me up, and we walked towards the back. Trying to stop when we got to the couch, he tugged me forward.

“Not there, silly.” He booped my nose, “That’s as comfortable as nails in your eyeballs.” He lifted a brow and chuckled at me like I was the absurd one. Directing to the door in the back, he said, “We’re going to give you a big fluffy cloud.”

He opened the door, and it looked like a suite from a hotel. Everything you could need from a bedroom and a large king-size bed in the center. He pulled me towards it, patting the bed, and nodded to himself. “Fluffy like a cloud.”

Sitting on the bed, he told me there was a bathroom behind me and that he would come to check up on me soon before he left. Laying down, I tried to fall asleep, close my eyes, and count. Visions of wolves in a forest chasing me plagued my mind, and I kept thinking about my fate once we landed.

Would he kill me right away or draw it out? I think if he saw even the slightest bit of resistance from his sons, he would slit my throat right in front of them, making sure they understood that he was in control of their lives. My face tightened, veins filling with rage at this faceless man I hated.

Then add in that I just couldn't get comfortable with this damn shoulder pain. My mind and body both made it impossible for me to relax. Throwing my fist down on the bed, I groaned out, “Aargh!”

“Are the sleep bugs not helping you? I heard if you get them drunk, they’ll burrow in your mind better.” I wasn't even surprised anymore. My head lulled to the side to see him leaning against the wall in the dark.

“It's not the sleep bugs.” I huffed, “It's this damn shoulder and…nerves, I think.” I didn't want to tell him I was thinking about what his father would do to me. He would just say he wouldn't let him, and I knew some things could be out of your control.

While all of them seemed to hate their father and despise what he did to them, deep down, they thought he was right. They still follow his orders, even if they do it reluctantly. It's something he has ingrained in them from a very young age. It was smart yet evil, a way to control them even if they weren't at his side. This need to prove their worth to him which drives their strength. It will take something drastic, something earth-shattering to break them of that, for them to gather their strength and go against him.

He kicked off the wall and whispered, “That's a good idea, Cal. Finally, your perverted suggestions are helpful.”

Did Cal make a lot of perverted suggestions? If so, I was now intrigued. Sometimes, he made me wish I could also hear his voice.

Stalking up to the bed, he crawled on all fours to me, hovering over my head, and licked his lips. “You know,” his lust-filled gaze carved its way down my body, and the pounding of my own heart was so loud I thought he could hear it. “There is another way to get you to sleep. Another way,” he bent over, his lips brushed against mine with a feather's pressure, “to make you forget about the pain. To dull all your other senses.”

His inky fingers walked their way to the waistband of my pants, hooking his finger underneath the fabric as he ran it across my waist. Focusing on his emerald eyes, I gasped, “I want that. I want the pain in my shoulder to dull so much I don't feel it. I want my mind so jumbled that I can't think.”

Like I had made a deal with a demon, his sinister smile made a chill run down my spine, and a small voice inside scolded me, telling me I just gave this psycho the reins to do whatever he wanted, and who knows what was going on up there.

He dove right in, sealing the demon deal with a kiss that rocked me to my toes. Moaning against his mouth, he broke the seam with his tongue, stealing that moan for himself. His wicked fingers flicked open my pants, and in one yank from the back, he tugged them down to my thighs.

Breaking the kiss, he cooed, “Now remember, I get to play director, remember.”

I nodded, agreeing to anything he said, when two fingers bottomed out inside of me, and I fisted the sheets beside me with my good arm, trying to hold on for dear life. Staring down at me from above, he pumped his fingers in and out, watching me like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t bother with anything else but watching me squirm. It was a good start, but my shoulder twinged in pain as I pressed my back into the bed. I needed more.

Like he could hear my thoughts, he moved his thumb against my clit, and he rubbed in time with his other two fingers, making my eyes roll back into my head. I wanted more; I went to split open my thighs when they wouldn't budge. Raising my head, I saw my problem and tried to scoot to get them off.

Cezar withdrew his fingers, and I moaned until he tore off his shirt, revealing all those inky muscles that made my mouth water. I wanted to lick the ridges of his muscles and see what made him quake. Where it was that made his breath quicken and his body twitch. Maybe that was why he liked watching me so much.

Flicking the button of his pants but not removing them, he grabbed my pants in one hand, lifting my legs, my whole ass and pussy on display. “This is the kind of sight I would kill for.” Running one finger lightly from clit to core. My pussy clenched in response like it called for those fingers to return and do the job. Then he smacked my pussy, the sharp pain making me gasp until his lips kissed away the sting. His hot wet tongue swiped against me, in me, circling my clit, all while he held up my legs by my pants. With a bum shoulder, I was completely under his control.

“Fuck.” His breath brushed against my curls. “I want to spend the entire flight branding every inch of this body, but a deal is a deal.” He paused, not doing anything, and with my legs up in the air blocking my view, I didn't know what he was doing. Second, by agonizing second, the anticipation of what he was planning to do built up, causing my body to ache with need.

Bursting into action, he ripped my pants off my legs, and my legs fell apart, settling on each shoulder. Lifting my ass, pain bloomed from my shoulder. I winced, and he winked at me, “A little pain for a lot of pleasure. I promise, my Zia. This is just the beginning. I have to prepare you for all the crazy things in my head.” He blew against my pulsing center, and the thoughts of pain melted away. He continued his torture, always getting close, but just not enough.

I bit my lips to keep myself from begging, but it was no use when my hips kept thrusting forward in desperation.

“I need to hear it. I need to hear you beg me with that voice calling me from across the graveyard.” His eyes dragged from my center up my body, finally connecting with my eyes. Those wanton jeweled eyes sparked for me, demanding I heard his call. Telling me I wouldn't regret it.

“I want you, Cezar.”

He licked his lips; those eyes darkened like a beast looking at prey. “More.”

Running his nose up and down my thighs, kissing, nibbling them as they quaked, reminding me what I was missing if I didn't do what he asked. “Please. Please, Cezar.” His hands cupped the bottom of my ass, pulling me apart so my sex was on full display. The cool air hit, making my eyes flutter—so close to losing my mind.

“More. Louder. Tell me what you want.”

While I felt the pain in my shoulder twinge again, I didn't care. The deep primal need my body craved took over. I could hear nothing past my thundering pulse in my ears, every cell in my body telling me just to say it. I didn't even hear the door open when I panted out, “Lick me, suck me, fuck me! I need it. I need all of it.”

Not wasting a second, he barreled his face into me, eating me out like it was a race to see how fast he could get me to come. With my eyes screwed shut, I pumped my hips up, matching his pace. His moan vibrated down my core, and I clenched my thighs around his face. He mumbled out his encouragement as best he could, “Yes. Mmmmm. Fuck my face. Mmmmm. Fucking squeeze those soft thighs around me. Mmmmm.”

I lost it. A jumble of words and sounds came out, none of them anything you could understand, as my orgasm built into this hot, raging inferno. Just as I was getting there, his hands turned into vice grips and pried my thighs away from him.

A whimper left my lips, my eyes cracked open in a haze of lust when Cezar called out happily, “Hello brother, are you wanting a taste?”

Rubbing my good arm against my eyes, I glanced over and saw Ion off to the side, a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen in his hands. His eyes were blown wide, and he was standing in a rigid stance as his eyes devoured me. I couldn't help myself. My eyes traveled down to see his hard cock straining against his pants as his chest rose and fell.

“Now, you don't want to leave a lady waiting, do you? That's very ungentlemanly of you.” Cezar’s teasing scowl caused Ion’s nostrils to flare, but he still hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

My body twitched in Cezar’s hands, muscles ached as I was so worked up that I grew desperate. “Please,” my weak plea came out breathless and needy, but I didn't care. I was so close. So fucking close. I just needed one of them to finish the job.

“Are. You. Sure?” Ion said through his teeth like he was treading a thin line.

“Yes. Please, Ion.” He still hadn’t moved from his spot even with the air around him buzzing with energy.

Cezar chuckled, crawling his way up to my ear. He turned his face, cheek to cheek with me as he looked at his brother and said, “No, my Roma. You need to have a firm hand with this one. He hates himself, you see, so he needs your venom.” It made sense, given that the only woman he loved constantly hurt him with his words. His self-worth and understanding of love are wrapped up in one toxic bundle. The question was, could I give him what he wanted?

Seeing the torment and longing battle across his face, his thoughts not connecting with what his body wanted, I felt for him. I wanted to give him peace when his mind and body wouldn’t let him.

My body clenched, reminding me of my denied orgasm, and my mind was made up in a flash. Frustrated with the situation already, being a bitch wasn't a problem for me at this point. As soon as I moved, Cezar tipped to the side, giving me room to rolled to my side and make my way to standing, even with shaky legs. I growled out at him, “Get your filthy fuckboy ass on the bed.”

His eyes rolled back as he let out a small groan, stepping toward the bed. Watching him climb up and take the spot Cezar and I left, I felt something inside me awaken and take over. Adrenaline pumped in my veins, desire flooded my body. When he started to take off his clothes, I called out. “Did I tell you to take off your clothes?”

Looking at me in question, I came up to his side, glaring at him in disappointment. “Did I say I was going to fuck your dick?” Making sure I put some disdain in my voice at the end. His eyes fluttered, and I knew I was going down the right road. “Take off your shirt and lie on your back like a good little fuckboy.” He tore off his shirt, his tan smooth body crafted to perfection, and I had to make myself not drool over him.

I went to climb up the bed when Cezar was right there, lifting me by the waist. I glanced up at his smiling face, and he mouthed, first husband privilege , then motioned to his eyes, telling me he was watching every second of this and loved it.

Shaking my head, I focused on Ion, his cock straining so hard it had to hurt. I went to unbutton it when he grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Leave it.” I almost argued when I looked back at him and saw the desperation in his eyes.

Stealing my spine, I moved forward, holding the headboard as I put my knees on either side of his head. He lifted his hand to help me, and I snapped, “Don’t touch me.” He paused. His body began to shake as he bit his lips.

Those golden brown specks in his eyes turned molten, and I positioned myself over his face. “I'm going to use you, fuckboy. I'm going to use your mouth and face to get off, like my own personal toy.” His breathing picked up, his heart beating hard against my ass, matching the excitement in my own.

These men had always had the position of power over me, their captive, their prisoner, but this time, I was the one with the power, and that made my pulse skyrocket. I was surprised by how much I liked this.

Grabbing a handful of his silky locks, his eyes glued to mine, I whispered. “Show me what you're worth.” He moaned, but it was muffled as I thrusted against his mouth. His tongue lapped out at my arousal, working me up higher and higher than I was before.

Tightening my grip, I ground myself on him just how I liked. Using his lips, his tongue, his nose, using all of him to get myself off.

I heard a squirt behind me, but I didn't break stride; I couldn't. I wanted this orgasm more than anything.

Cezar licked the shell of my ear. “While this is hot, even Cal agrees, I wanted to remind you of our deal.” Something wet poked my back entrance, and my eyes flew open, turning to see what he was doing when he captured my lips with his, swallowing down my protests as he worked something into my ass.

It wasn't my first time with anal, but I still yelped when he went past that tight ring of muscle. Ion, not wanting to be outdone, slurped at my arousal, making a wet, dirty mess that made me moan.

Cezar began to work this object in and out with ease; whatever lube he used was nice as thick, making me forget about any pain and only feel the pleasure. “Oh god, yes. Fuck. Cezar. Ion.” Cezar holding the item in his hand, timing it so as I pushed back, I would be fucking my ass. I was in control.

They worked me up so well that I had to take my hand off Ion’s hair and grip the headboard. Pleasure surged from both sides of me and I thrust against Ion’s face and fasted harder.

It was good, so fucking good.

My climax built, coiling in my belly so tight I knew this one would blow my mind. Cezar’s hand came around, pinching my nipple and tugging it in time with my thrusts and I saw stars. My orgasm crashed into me, causing my body to seize up, and Cezar caught my waist, whispering that he got me. He would always catch me.

I sighed, leaning against him as the aftershocks ran up and down my body until he lifted me, setting my feet down the the ground and bending me over right on top of Ion’s hard cock, begging to be free from its zippered prison. I glanced over at Ion as he rose to his elbows, his beautiful face glistening with my cum, and I smiled.

“Cezar-”

He cut me off as he ripped the lubed item out of my ass and thrust in me. My back bowed at his entrance, but I was already prepped quite well, which was more surprising than painful. “I'm going to have my turn, wife. I’m goin' to get both of you off as I fuck your tight ass.”

He thrusted in and out slowly. My breasts rubbed in time against Ion’s hard erection, and Ion groaned through his teeth, glaring at Cezar. “Fuck you, Cezar.”

Cezar picked up the pace, and my pussy clenched as he laughed out loud, “Oh no, brother, I’m going to fuck our wife so good and hard that it will make you come in jealously. Then your penance will be complete.”

I wanted to tell him that Ion didn't need any more penance, that he was forgiven, but the words were caught in my throat, unable to get past my heady pants. Looking up at Ion, I saw his face twist up, his cock throbbing against my chest, and I knew he was close.

His hand lifted, reaching towards me, “Kazia, you’re so fucking beautiful. You shine when your face is etched in pleasure.”

Cezar’s thrusts became erratic, and he shoved two fingers into my wet pussy, sliding in with ease. It was beginning to be too much. I eyed Ion’s outstretched hand and leaned forward, grabbing one of his fingers with my teeth and bit down.

Ion cried out, “Fuck. Oh Fuck, yes.”

Cezar called out to me, fucking me in both holes. “Come for me, Zia. Fucking come just for me.”

His words shook me to my core, and my whole body clenched down on him as he hissed out, and I came again. He timed it just right as he grabbed my ass with both hands and emptied himself with a roar.

Ion fell back against the bed; I slumped against the wet spot in his pants, Cezar still behind me, trying to catch his breath. My lids began to lower, my body so blissed out that I had no energy left to move, let alone think about anything.

“I told you, my Roma. I always keep my promises.”

Grunting out in response was all I was capable of until I felt him remove himself. A whine slipped past my lips and he chuckled before grabbing me around the waist, laying me down beside Ion on the bed. “Now it's time for sleep, my princess. I checked to make sure there were no peas.”

Sinking into the bed, my muscles relaxed and an overwhelming exhaustion took over. My response was a slew of noises, not forming any real words as he nodded and tucked me into bed. I might have an excruciating sore shoulder tomorrow, but I counted it as a trade-off for the orgasm’s and the hope for some good sleep finally.

With only Cezar’s shuffling steps and Ion’s presence next to me, I fell asleep with my heart full as I remembered that Cezar had kept his promises.