Chapter 90

CESARE

When Rosalind kisses back, I feel like a fucking king.

Straddling my lap, she squirms against my cock and devours my mouth like I'm the only man in the entire world. She's like Charlie's Angels, The A-Team, and Ocean's Eleven, all wrapped up in a sexy little package.

And she's all mine.

But is she? Destroying the Moirai HQ has just bought her freedom. It's what we promised the evening she swung a metal pole at my head when she thought I molested her daughter.

Shit. Tonight, we're going to kill Matty Galliano and then go after his brother. After that, our bargain will be complete. I need to do something, say something, be someone worthy of her love before she walks out of my life.

Cursing, Carlo accelerates, reversing at breakneck speed. Rosalind pulls away from the kiss as the rumbling turns to a deafening roar.

"What's happening?" Roman asks from the seat opposite.

"Looks like the tunnels and sewers connecting HQ to the rest of the city are also collapsing," she says with a grimace. "The blast must have been stronger than I calculated."

"Thank fuck the Moirai chose such a remote location for their headquarters," Roman mutters.

I turn Rosalind's head back to mine. "Ignore my brother. He's only sore because he couldn't handle the Moirai without your help."

The truck swerves sharply to the left, jerking us sideways. Roman grunts as he slams into the wall, but Rosalind barely flinches. Her eyes are locked on mine with an intensity that makes my heart pound.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

My eyes widen. "What for?"

"For the lab, the money we needed to pay Xero, the bombs, the men, and for listening. We're finally free."

She gazes down at me, her eyes softening. The golden flecks in their hazel irises shimmering in the truck's dim light.

Cradling her cheek, I run the pad of my thumb across her cheekbone. I'm being a selfish prick. All this time, I've been thinking about what destroying the Moirai meant to me: an exciting adventure, my brothers' respect, the absence of being gunned down by assassins. Hell, I even lamented about losing Rosalind.

I'd forgotten those Moirai bastards took her in when she was no older than Miranda and wouldn't let her leave. And when she displeased her overlords, they signed her life over to a sick fuck who planned on raping her before cutting her up into pieces.

It's obvious, even to me, that I don't deserve Rosalind.

Nobody does. Not even Leroi.

"I'd do it all again," I say, my voice rough. "Anything for my girls."

She reaches around my neck, her slender fingers twining in my hair as she pulls me closer. Her lips press against mine in a soft kiss, which I return with vigor. She kisses back, this time with a fierce intensity floods my cock with sensation.

The truck jolts again, but neither of us flinches. She digs her fingernails into my skin, detonating explosions of pleasure. The world falls away, the sound of the truck engine and Carlo's curses fading into nothingness. All that matters at this moment is Rosalind.

Roman harrumphs. "Could you wait until we're not trying to escape an earthquake?"

Breaking the kiss, I mutter, "Don't like it, don't watch. Without Rosalind, we'd be running around like headless chickens. She deserves a reward."

She snorts.

Adjusting her on my lap, I press kisses on her exposed neck, and murmur into her skin, "You're wearing too many clothes."

"I swear to god, if this turns into some exhibitionism kink, I'm throwing you both out on the street," Roman mutters.

"You wouldn't dare. We owe her our fucking lives." I turn my attention back to Rosalind. "Take no notice of that asshole. He's just jealous because he can't get a sexy assassin."

Rosalind chuckles against my lips, the sound injecting my heart with endorphins. This is the second time I've ever made her laugh.

The earth stops moving, or maybe it's because I'm too absorbed in Rosalind to notice anything else. We continue kissing until Roman's hand lands on my shoulder.

"Good work," he says with a broad smile. With a nod toward Rosalind, he adds, "Family dinner tonight. It's going to be a big celebration."

"We have other plans," I reply.

Roman's smile falters a fraction, but he nods, exits the van, and disappears into the armory. I'm vaguely aware of Carlo opening the cab door and jumping out when Rosalind cups my cheek.

"Why did you reject your brother's offer?" she whispers.

"We finally have a lead on that bastard," I reply, my voice low. "There's no way in hell I want to miss out on the chance to murder him in his bed."

When her features harden with determination, my heart sinks a little with dread. Rosalind is only eager to help me kill Matty Galliano because it's bringing her one step closer to financial freedom. And freedom from me.

Matty's death will attract Tommy, if he isn't already coming to visit his brother's bedside, then Rosalind will be out of my life in less than twenty-four hours.

"Close the door," she whispers.

"Why?"

"Destroying an evil organization along with the people inside it who wanted me dead makes me horny," she replies, her eyes dancing.

"You drive a hard bargain." I rise off my seat with her still wrapped around my body like a boa constrictor, and pull the door shut. "Lucky for you, I'm equipped to handle your demands, no matter how dirty."

She giggles, the sound so sweet that it stabs me in the heart, reminding me of everything I'm about to lose.

"Let's take a look at this so-called equipment." She reaches between our bodies and unzips my bulletproof pants.

The mischief in those hazel eyes makes my breath hitch. Seeing Rosalind looking so happy is an aphrodisiac I never knew I needed.

Still straddling my hips, she wraps her fingers around my cock and eases it out from my fly, exposing it to the truck's cool air.

"Is the equipment to your satisfaction, love?" I ask.

Her bright smile is all the answer I need. She leans in, pressing her armored chest against mine, and says, "Looks like it's up for the job."

"Good, because I'm about to give you the ride of your life."

With trembling hands, I fumble with the clasps and zippers of her armored pants. Arousal courses through my veins, making me clumsy, but I refuse to give up until I expose that sweet pussy.

Her breath quickens, matching the rhythm of my heart. The pants fall away, revealing the soft curves of her ass. She reaches for the collar of her bulletproof jacket, but I grab her wrist.

"I want to fuck you just like this."

"Why?" she asks with a chuckle.

"I want to look into the eyes of the chemist who synthesized mercury nitrovolucite, the strategist who tricked the Moirai into handing us six more operatives, just so they could finally let us into their territory. I want the stone-cold assassin who planned a Trojan horse attack that reduced the Moirai to a crater. I want the genius who outsmarted a death sentence to become the queen of destruction."

Eyes darkening, she tightens her grip on my shaft, her features morphing into a wicked grin. "What about Rosalind? Do you want to be with her?"

"I wanted you from the moment you walked into the Phoenix wearing that white dress."

"Even though I fucked your cousin?"

"It just made me want you even more."

"Because I attracted the most dangerous man in the club?" she asks with a smirk.

Huffing a laugh, I shake my head. "Because you were the most dangerous woman. There was something about you, even then, that made you stand out. If anyone other than Leroi had approached you, they would have died before they even took you in that alley."

She laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and rises on her knees to position her pussy over my hard cock. "Well then, let's see if you still find me dangerous."

Then she descends, engulfing my shaft, inch by delicious inch. Placing my hands on her hips, I hold her in place, but do nothing to speed her progress. I want to fuck that boss bitch. I want her to take control.

Heat spikes through every nerve in my body as she takes my cock, making the truck echo with our mingled moans. When I'm fully sheathed, her lips crash into mine. The kiss is even more heated than before, and I've never felt so connected to another woman in my life. She's everything I never knew I needed. I never want this moment to end.

She rocks her hips, setting a rhythm that has us both gasping for air and rides my cock like she's stealing my soul. Rosalind is my deadly goddess—my queen of darkness, destruction and decadence. She unleashes a wildfire within my soul and a burning need that only she can quench.

I buck my hips, fucking into her tight heat, and reveling in the way her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her cunt tightens around my cock with a death grip, and I know she's close.

My balls tighten, threatening to spurt, but I grind my teeth. I refuse to come first.

"You look so sexy, taking control," I growl. "Using my cock for your pleasure. It's all yours, love. Ride it hard and take what you need."

"Oh fuck," she grinds out, her lips pulling back into a triumphant grin.

How the hell did I ever think I could cage this wild, dangerous woman? Or even dare try to break her unyielding spirit? I'm barely worthy enough to bask in her brilliance.

"Cesare, I'm coming," she says, her words choked.

She climaxes around my cock, her tight pussy spasming hard enough to draw the cum out of my balls. I hold back, determined to keep going until I've given her every inch of pleasure she deserves.

It's impossible to last when each thrust sends waves of ecstasy coursing through my veins, and her body feels like home. When she cries out my name and digs her nails into my neck, all my self-control erupts.

Jets and jets escape as I come in a furious rush. "Fuck," I growl as the sensations surge through my core like an electric shock. "I love you."

As I shoot what's left of my ego into her tight heat, her features flicker from arousal to alarm to awkwardness and then to something akin to pity. It's a fleeting kaleidoscope, each expression slicing through my already bleeding heart. Not a single one of them shows a hint of reciprocation.

She climbs off my rapidly softening cock, her eyes unable to meet mine, and pulls up her pants.

The weight of her rejection crushes my chest. I collapse against the seat, utterly destroyed. The only other woman I uttered those words to me walked out of my life and left me in ruins. Now, Rosalind's icy silence tears me apart more than any words of dismissal.

"Let's go to the medical center and take out the Galliano brothers," she says, her words full of ice.

My heart twists as she wrenches open the truck's doors and walks out without looking back. The thud of her boots echoes through my ears like a beat of a funeral march, each step a reminder that what we had together is dead.

Whatever made me think a woman like Rosalind could ever love me back?