Chapter 72

ROSALIND

Cesare's gaze flickers down to my pussy, and his lips widen into a salacious grin. When he looks up, it's with eyes I can only describe as manic.

It's odd how an expression I once found terrifying is now exhilarating, but then I'm no longer mummified or strapped to a torture table. I'm also not weak with hunger or thirst.

I step forward, closing the distance between us, my body dripping water to the marble floor. His grin fades, replaced with a look of raw hunger that borders on predatory.

Well, I have something he can eat.

"On your knees."

His hand whips out and grabs my throat, cutting off my air. Incandescent blue eyes burn into mine, their irises flickering with danger. "I don't take orders."

"Neither do I."

I break free from his grasp, sweeping my leg in a move that sends him crashing to the marble floor. As he lands on his back with a grunt, I straddle his chest.

"Not today, pet," I say with a sneer.

His eyes flash, and he bares his teeth, but there's something in his gaze that borders on amusement. He grabs my hips and tries to buck me off, but I dig my fingers into his hair and lean close.

"Are we going to seal this deal or not?" I ask, my voice breathy.

"You drive a hard bargain," he growls, his fingers tightening on my hips.

"Bet that's not the only thing that's hard."

With a smirk, he flicks his head, motioning for me to take what I want. I clamber up his body and straddle his head, putting all the weight on my legs.

Cesare grabs my hips and pulls me onto his face, making us both groan.

The first swipe of this tongue on my slit feels like being struck by lightning. Bolts of ecstasy surge through my system, setting off up every pleasure center. Gasping, I cling onto his hair, making him growl.

His tongue makes back-and-forth strokes over my clit that make my breath come in shallow pants. I want to squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the sensations, but nothing is more satisfying than looking into Cesare's half-lidded eyes.

Deep groans resound from his mouth, sending vibrations through my core. I roll my hips, riding out the pleasure on his face as my pubic bone grinds against his nose.

He says something, but it's muffled.

"What did you say, pet?" I ask with a smirk. "Use your words."

Rolling his eyes, he lifts me off his hip. "Turn around. I want you facing my cock."

I change position so my ass and pussy completely cover his face. When I glance down, I find his cock straining through his pants, looking desperate for release. I reach down and slide my finger over the cloth-covered length, eliciting another deep groan.

Cesare's tongue swirls around my swollen clit, making my thighs tremble. This time, I place all my weight on his face. A sadistic part of me wants him to suffocate or drown in my juices.

"Pull out my cock," he growls.

With a chuckle, I unzip his pants, releasing that thick length. The four studs on his crown gleam in the light, making me want to ride his cock.

"Suck it," he says.

I slap his shaft, making him bob to the side. "You don't deserve my mouth."

Cesare groans, his tongue moving faster. I continue delivering sharp spanks, turning his cock redder, thicker, juicier. Precum flies out of its tip with every blow, making me groan.

Shit. What is it about this twisted psycho that gets me so excited? I should want a saner man who doesn't torture people in his basement, yet there's something about Cesare Montesano I can't resist.

Pressure builds up around my clit, making it feel like it's doubled in sensitivity. I squeeze my eyes shut and pant through the sensations.

As the strokes of his tongue slow, I wrap my fingers around his shaft and squeeze tight. "I swear to everything that's holy, if you leave me hanging, I'll rip off your cock."

Chuckling, he picks up his pace, laving my clit with such delicious strokes that I swear I can feel every ridge of his tongue.

Pleasure builds and builds until it feels like I might explode. I rock back and forth over his face to increase the friction. Finally, he reaches up and pinches one of my nipples, sending a surge of pain that makes me crack.

My orgasm comes in a hot rush, drenching my system with wave after wave of liquid rapture. I jerk and spasm over Cesare's face as I ride through the powerful sensations, but his hands hold my hips in place. His tongue continues moving in slow circles, prolonging the sweet torment until I'm wrung dry.

"Please," he groans around my folds. "Get on my cock."

He doesn't need to ask me twice.

I rise off his face and shuffle down his torso. His huge, veiny cock lies flush against his abs, leaking streams of precum. After turning around to face him, I straddle his hips and hold his shaft at the base.

Cesare's handsome face is smeared with my juices, but he gazes up at me like I'm the goddess of rapture. For a few heartbeats, I don't see the psychopath who abducted Miranda and made my life a living hell, only a tortured hero with a tragic past.

I shake off that image. My hormones are malfunctioning, and my judgment is clouded with lust. Now isn't the time to sympathize with my former captor.

"Ride me," he growls.

Maybe he did have to ask me twice, after all.

Squeezing my fingers around his cock hard enough to make him hiss through his teeth, I lower myself onto his crown. The metal balls of his piercings slide over my labia, which I swear is more sensitive since the stitches dissolved.

Cesare holds me steady by the hips as I slide down his cock, letting it stretch me open. The piercings rub against a spot inside me that ignite lightning bolts of bliss.

Shivering, I release a moan. When he's fully sheathed, his hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise. "Stay there," he says, his voice breathy with awe. "I just want to look at you. Memorize how your tight cunt squeezes my cock.

I relax my muscles just to piss him off, and he laughs. It's an expression I've only seen on him in the photo album, a full smile that reaches his eyes and radiates pure joy.

When I squeeze around him, he groans. "Fuck, Rosalind. You have the tightest, sweetest pussy."

"I know." I smirk.

"Move," he rasps. "Please."

Raising my hips, I let him feel the slow drag of my walls against his shaft. His hips buck beneath me in protest of the languid pace, but I ignore him and relish in the press of those piercings.

His hard eyes never leave mine, even as his hands explore my belly, my waist, my breasts. As I roll my hips, he rolls my nipples between his fingers.

He's watching me, studying my expressions as I ride his thick cock. This time, I don't mind his fascination because I'm also transfixed by his face.

A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, highlighting the angular lines of his brow. Somehow, while lying beneath me on the marble floor, his hair has spilled loose from its fastening and spreads around his head like a dark halo.

I can't tell if he's a devil or a saint, but his cock feels like heaven. My pussy is so sensitive, I feel every ridge, every vein, every contour of his shaft. One of his four piercings rubs back and forth against a spot that ignites sparks of sensation so intense that I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my bottom lip.

"Harder, pet," he growls. "This is your final warning."

Ignoring him, I continue at my steady pace. Maybe it's because I've climaxed already and I'm in no hurry for that second orgasm or maybe I want Cesare to know what it feels like to beg for release. Either way, I keep my rhythm slow and torturous and savor the sounds of his desperation.

His fingers leave my nipples and grip my hips again. He bucks into me, sending an explosion of pleasure that radiates from my core, making me gasp.

In a swift movement, he rolls to the side, sending me crashing on the marble tiles. His palm lands on the back of my head as he pins me to the floor.

I'm lying face-down on the marble with my ass in the air, trying to rise, but he presses his elbow between my shoulder blades, keeping me in place.

"Cesare," I snap.

His lips graze the shell of my ear. "I warned you earlier, and told you to fuck me harder," he growls, his voice guttural and deep. He reenters me with a hard thrust that makes me see stars. "Now, I'll show you what that means."

He fucks me at a brutal pace on the bathroom floor, each thrust a hot lash of pleasure.

"Let go of me, you asshole."

He laughs, the sound cruel. "That's not what you were saying a minute ago. I'm not going to stop until you come apart."

I dig my fingers in the cold marble, trying to buck him off with my hips, but that only increases the friction. His piercings rub against my g-spot with disturbing accuracy, making the muscles of my pussy clench and spasm around his thick cock.

"That's right, pet," he growls. "Fight me."

All traces of affection I might have had toward this bastard evaporate. How could I have ever thought a bunch of photos was proof of Cesare's humanity? He must have cast off his soul and locked it in that safe.

The worst part about this is that he makes my nerve endings sing. Every part of my body comes alive as he fucks me without mercy or restraint. It's like he's worked out the cheat code to my pleasure and wants to unravel me with a precise mix of humiliation, ecstasy, and pain.

I hate the way he makes me lose control, the way he forces me to feel. Most of all, I hate the way this man brings me closer to my heart's desire: a meaningful relationship with my daughter.

He drives into me, the crown of his cock hitting my cervix with punishing force. It's unyielding, it's ruthless, and it's making me moan into the tiles with each brutal assault. His thrusts reduce me into a bundle of raw nerves.

Every inch of my body becomes hypersensitive. As he fucks me harder, even the draft over my skin feels like a caress.

"I hate you," I gasp out. "As soon as I come, I'll kill?—"

He silences me with another wave of pleasure that makes my eyes water.

"You're mine, pet," he growls into my ear, his fingers tightening around the back of my neck. "This beautiful body beneath me. Mine. This sweet little cunt squeezing the life out of my cock. Mine. These sounds of pleasure you can't suppress. Mine."

"Not. For. Long," I say from between clenched teeth.

His sharp laugh makes my skin tingle. "This pleasure that brands you, breaks you, burns you from the inside out. That's mine too. And your hatred, I'll swallow it whole. Because you're going to want me after this is over."

Shivers skitter down my spine at his sinister words, making me aware that I'm screwed. Cesare has found a different way to break my spirit, and it's more effective than torture. Humiliation and resentment course through my veins, mingling with the throbbing pleasure.

Even though I'm being fucked ruthlessly on the bathroom floor, there's a part of me standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering toward a chasm of euphoria.

"Come for me, pet." He reaches between my legs and strokes my aching clit with the same forceful rhythm of his thrusts, coaxing another humiliating moan.

"Not. Your. Pet," I say through clenched teeth.

"Now!" he growls.

The words slam into my psyche like a command.

I want to resist, to deny him this victory. But my traitorous body responds with a seismic orgasm that tears through every fiber of my being.

The pleasure is blinding, blurring everything else into insignificance. I'm flying through a haze of ecstasy, my body dissolving into the ether.

Cesare's laughter echoes through an inferno of sensation, and I'm vaguely aware that he's coming. As my orgasm fades, his lips return to my ear.

"You have a deal," he says, his voice penetrating the haze. "But by the time we've killed the Galliano brothers, you'll be so addicted to me you will never want to leave."

My eyes snap open, and I stare sightlessly into the void. Even as my heartbeat slows, there's no denying that was more intense than anything I've ever experienced. Pleasure still echoes deep in my core, a reminder of the power he wields over my body.

If I don't take control of my desires, I'm afraid Cesare might be right.