Chapter 6
Cesar
"Good girl."
The words leave my mouth and I watch them wash over her like a warm wave. Her whole body shudders. Her lips part. Her eyes go glassy with want.
I told her to wait. Told her I'd take my time, do this right, not fuck her against a wall while I'm dripping wet in a towel.
But she's looking at me like I'm the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. Like she needs me. And she just had a nightmare about a man with a knife, and she's shaking, and she came to me—
I drop to my knees.
Her eyes go wide. I'm kneeling in front of her on the cold bathroom tile, nothing but a towel around my waist, water still dripping down my back. She's pressed against the wall in her little sleep shorts and thin tank top, looking down at me like she can't believe what she's seeing.
"Cesar, what are you—"
"You're stressed." I run my hands up her bare legs, feeling the goosebumps rise under my palms. "You're scared. You need to get out of your head."
"I thought you said—"
"I said I wasn't going to fuck you against a wall." I hook my fingers into the waistband of her shorts. "I didn't say anything about this."
I pull them down slowly, dragging her underwear with them—a tiny scrap of lace that's already soaked through. She gasps as the cool air hits her, tries to press her thighs together, but I'm already there, my shoulders wedging them apart.
She's bare for me, pink and glistening, and she smells like want. Like need. Like something I've been starving for my whole life.
"Look at you."
"Don't," She tries to cover herself with her hands. "Don't stare."
I catch her wrists. Pin them to the wall at her sides.
"I'll stare as long as I want." I lean in, let my breath ghost over her. She whimpers. "I've been thinking about this pussy for days, mija. Wondering how you'd taste. Wondering what sounds you'd make when I got my mouth on you."
"Oh God," she whimpers, her cheeks burning pink.
"I'm going to find out now." I look up at her, holding her gaze. "And you're going to let me. Aren't you?"
She nods frantically. "Yes. Yes, please."
"Good girl."
I lick her.
One long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, and she nearly buckles. I tighten my grip on her wrists, holding her in place, and do it again. And again. Tasting her, learning her, savoring the way she shakes.
She's so wet. Dripping down my chin, coating my lips, and I've barely started. I groan against her and the vibration makes her cry out.
"Cesar!"
"That's it." I circle her clit with my tongue, soft and teasing, then pull back. "Say my name. Let me hear you."
"Please don't stop." She's writhing against the wall, trying to chase my mouth.
I seal my lips around her clit and suck.
She screams. Her hands fight against my grip, but I don't let go. I hold her pinned to the wall and work her clit with my tongue, alternating between sucking and licking and flicking until she's babbling, incoherent, her whole body shaking.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God—Cesar—I can't!" She babbles incoherently.
I pull back just enough to speak, my lips brushing her swollen flesh. I release one of her wrists and bring my hand between her legs. Slide one finger inside her.
She's tight. So fucking tight, clenching around me like she never wants to let go. And wet—drenched—slicking my hand as I pump into her slowly.
"More," she gasps. "Please, more!"
I add a second finger and she moans so loud it echoes off the bathroom tile. I curl them inside her, searching, and when I find that spot.
"FUCK!"
There it is.
I work her with my fingers, rubbing that spot with every stroke, and I get my mouth back on her clit. Licking and sucking and fucking her with my hand, worshipping her like she deserves, like she's the only thing in the world that matters.
Because right now, she is.
"Cesar—I'm going to come!"
"Come for me, mija." I look up at her as I say it, holding her gaze while my fingers pump and my tongue circles. "Come on my face. Let me taste it."
She shatters.
Her whole body goes rigid, her thighs trembling, her pussy clamping down on my fingers. I feel the flutter, the clench, the rush of wetness flooding my hand, and I groan against her, licking her through it, drinking down everything she gives me.
She's crying out my name. Over and over. Cesar, Cesar, Cesar. Like I'm the only word she knows.
I don't stop.
I keep licking, keep fucking her with my fingers, and before she's finished coming the first time, I push her toward a second. She's sobbing now, oversensitive, trying to squirm away, but I hold her in place.
"One more." My voice is wrecked. I sound like a man possessed. "Give me one more, preciosa. I know you have it in you."
"I can't!"
"You can." I suck her clit hard, thrust my fingers deep. "Be good for me. Come again."
She does.
This one is harder, longer. Her legs give out completely and I catch her with my free arm, holding her up while I work her through it. She's gushing around my fingers, her whole body convulsing, and the sounds she's making…I've never heard anything so beautiful in my life.
When she finally goes limp, I ease my fingers out of her slowly. She whimpers. I press a soft kiss to her inner thigh, then her hip, then the curve of her stomach.
"Good girl," I murmur against her skin. "Such a good girl. You did so well."
She's trembling. Crying, I realize, tears sliding down her cheeks, but she's smiling too, looking down at me with an expression I can't quite read.
"Cesar..."
I rise to my feet, my knees aching from the cold tile, my cock so hard it's painful. I don't care. I pull her into my arms and hold her, letting her rest against my chest.
"How do you feel?" I ask.
She laughs, breathless. "I don't think I can feel my legs." She tilts her head back. Looks at me with those blue eyes, still wet with tears, still dazed from pleasure.
"I feel... safe," she says. "I feel like nothing bad can touch me when you're here."
I kiss her forehead. "Nothing bad is going to touch you. I promise."
"But you—" She glances down, where my cock is tenting out against the towel, impossible to hide.
"This wasn't about me." I smooth her hair back from her face. "Right now, I need to check the security perimeter."
"And then?"
I lean down, brush my lips against her ear. "And then I'm going to do that again. And again. Until you can't remember what you were afraid of."
She shivers. "I'm going to hold you to that."
"I'm counting on it."
I help her back into her shorts, pressing one more kiss to her hip before I pull them up. She's wobbly, unsteady, so I keep an arm around her waist as I guide her out of the bathroom.
I grab a pair of sweats from my drawer, pull them on. "Sit. I'll make food."
She settles onto my bed, watching me move around the room. Her cheeks are still flushed, her lips swollen, her hair a mess. She pulls on my old hoodie, drowning in it with a happy sigh.
She looks thoroughly debauched.
She looks like mine.
When see her curled up on my bed, wearing my oversized hoodie that she must have grabbed from the chair, looking soft and satisfied and happy…I know I'm already lost.
I pull on a t-shirt, and watch her on my bed, drowsy and satisfied. I want to climb in next to her, hold her, forget about everything outside these walls.
My phone buzzes.
Perimeter alert. Front gate.
I'm across the room in two seconds, pulling up the camera feed. Diamond sits up, the softness draining from her face.
"What is it?"
"Stay here."
"Cesar?"
"Stay here."
I grab my gun from the nightstand drawer and move through the house, checking every window, every door. The camera shows the front gate, closed and locked. Nothing visible. But something triggered the sensor.
I go outside.
The late afternoon sun is weak, the wind cold off the ocean. I approach the gate with my weapon drawn, scanning the treeline, the road, every shadow that could hide a threat.
That's when I see it.
A note, tucked into the gate's iron bars. Plain white paper, folded once.
I pull it free with two fingers. Unfold it.
I know you're in there, Diamond. He can't protect you forever.
My blood goes cold.
I scan the road again. Nothing. No cars, no movement. But he was here. Close enough to touch the gate.
I pull out my phone and check the camera logs. Forty minutes ago. A figure in dark clothing, face obscured by a baseball cap, approaching the gate on foot. He stayed for less than thirty seconds. Long enough to leave the note. Long enough to prove he knows exactly where she is.
Forty minutes ago. While I had my face buried between her thighs.
Fuck.
I head back inside and find Diamond exactly where I left her, sitting up in my bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. She takes one look at my face and goes pale.
"What happened?"
I show her the note.
She reads it. Reads it again. Her hands start to shake.
"He's here," she whispers. "He found me."
"He found the property. He doesn't have access." I take the note back, fold it, pocket it. "The security system is solid. He can't get in without me knowing."
"But he was here. He—" She stops. Looks at her phone on the nightstand. "Oh god. My DMs."
She grabs it before I can stop her. Scrolls. And then her face crumbles.
"Diamond. Show me."
She hands it over wordlessly.
Photos. Dozens of them. The house from the road. The gate. And worse—shots through the windows. Diamond on the couch. Diamond in the kitchen. Diamond doing yoga on the deck.
Diamond in her bedroom, changing.
The timestamps span days. He's been watching since she arrived.
"He's been here all along." Her voice breaks. "He's seen me. He's been watching me."
I want to put my fist through the wall. I want to find this piece of shit and end him the way I ended Marco—slowly, painfully, making sure he knows exactly why he's dying.
Instead, I force down the anger. I set down her phone and pull her into my arms.
"Listen to me." I grip her chin, force her to meet my eyes. "He's seen the outside of the house. He's seen you through windows, from a distance. He has not gotten inside. He has not touched you. And he never will."
"You can't promise that."
"I can. Because anyone who tries to get to you has to go through me first." I hold her gaze, letting her see the truth of it. "And I don't lose, Diamond. Not when it matters."
She's crying. Tears sliding down her cheeks, her whole body trembling. But she doesn't look away.
"I'm scared," she admits.
"I know."
"I don't want to be alone tonight."
"You won't be." I press my forehead to hers. "You're sleeping in my bed. And I'm going to be right there with you." I grip her chin, force her to meet my eyes. "I will die before I let him touch you. Do you understand me?"
She stares at me for a long moment. Then something shifts in her expression. The fear doesn't disappear, but it settles. Makes room for something else.
Trust.
"Okay," she whispers. "I believe you."
I press my forehead to hers. Breathe her in.
"I'm going to make us dinner," I tell her. "Then I need to do a full perimeter sweep. Check every camera, every sensor. Make sure there are no gaps."
"Don't leave me alone."
"You'll be right there in the kitchen with me. And when I do the sweep, you're staying in my room with the door locked." I brush my lips against her temple. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"Okay."
When this is over, I promise to myself, when I've dealt with the threat the only way I know how, I'm going to give her everything she asked for.
And more.