Average

JaneVera’s POV

Caesar stepped closer to the bed and pulled the duvet down, exposing my bare body. His eyes darkened the instant they landed on me, lingering on the faint sheen of arousal glistening between my parted thighs.

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips as his fingers hovered, tracing the damp apex of my thighs teasingly, sliding lightly over the sensitive skin, torturing me with the closeness, brushing and pressing just enough to make my pulse spike without giving me full relief. My breath hitched, body already responding to the tantalizing touch.

“You had a morning orgasm already without me?” He growled, voice thick with heat and desire as he climbed onto the bed. “That’s supposed to be my morning meal, little flame… the first taste I take before you even wake.”

I slid up against the headboard, my back pressing into it as the mattress dipped under his weight. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly, and heart hammering as his hand crept between my parted thighs. The heat of his calloused palm pressed firmly, nudging my thighs wider, pulling me open, sending shivers through me, and making my clit throb with anticipation until his palm pressed fully against my cunt.

He splayed his hand flat, dragging the wet heat across my folds, molding me to the shape of his palm. A sharp gasp tore from my throat, my hips arching toward the pressure as the friction seared through me.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” He murmured, leaning in until his chest pressed against mine, warmth searing. The rumble in his voice vibrated through me. “Laying here dripping… dreaming about how I touch you. Tell me… did you whimper my name when you came?”

My pulse spiked, a flush of heat spreading through me at the half-truth he spoke. If only he knew Neven was in that dream too…

“I… I…” My words tangled in my throat as his fingers slid into my cunt, dipping along the slick line between my folds. He stroked the swollen nub still throbbing from my release, pressing, brushing, coaxing, making my hips twitch instinctively against his hand. I tried to close my thighs, but he pressed his palm against them, holding me open, stretching me to his command.

He tilted his face closer, lips grazing the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Oh, look at you,” he whispered, voice low and husky. “So warm… so ready… practically begging for me without saying a word.”

His fingers sank deeper, pressing into my core slowly. He his finger curled upward, stroking the spot that made my breath hitch, my body trembling violently as waves of pleasure radiated through me.

My chest heaved in ragged gasps, nails clawing at the sheets, utterly helpless under the relentless heat of him. He lifted his head, dark eyes locking onto mine, dominance radiating from him, stealing the very air from my lungs.

“Now imagine,” he murmured, lips grazing mine, heat vibrating against my skin as he leaned closer, voice low and dripping with lust, “what I’d do if I had you pinned beneath me… if I ruined you before the morning even began, little flame.”

Heat pooled and throbbed between my thighs, a delicious ache that demanded more, as his fingers sank deep inside me, plunging slowly, then faster, dragging shivers up my spine that curled my toes and made my thighs tremble uncontrollably. Every push of his fingers stretched and teased me, sending waves of fire spiraling through my core.

He leaned closer, chest brushing mine, the warmth of his body pressing into me. His lips skimmed the shell of my ear, and his voice came out low, rough, vibrating against my skin. “So wet… so desperate for me, little flame,” he murmured, the growl rolling through me, sparking every nerve as his fingers kept plunging, curling, teasing inside me.

Fuckkk… God, it felt so fucking good, so impossibly right. “Please… don’t stop,” I moaned, voice trembling, as his thick, insistent middle finger plunged deep inside me, stretching me perfectly, filling me completely, curling and pressing in ways that made my hips jerk instinctively. Heat pooled and throbbed in my core, slickly coating his fingers, every thrust of his finger sending shivers racing up my spine and driving my nails into the sheets.

He lifted his face from the side of my neck, tilting toward mine, lips hovering just above mine, teasing, as if daring me to reach for him. I leaned in, pressing my mouth to his, craving the taste of him, trying to capture him fully, but he pulled back just enough,“No, naughty girl,” he growled, voice thick, husky, curling into my senses.

“Don’t get yourself worked up yet… we need to prepare for the engagement.” His fingers slid out reluctantly, leaving me slick, quivering, and aching, a glistening trace of my own heat coating him. He brought his finger to his lips, dragging it slowly along his tongue, savoring the taste, his dark eyes locking onto mine, smoldering with possession and hunger. I panted, thighs trembling, frustration and need pooling between them, biting my lip to hold back a whine.

“You love to tease me,” I murmured, voice trembling. “Is it because of what I did to you last night?”

A slow, dangerous smirk curved his lips, “Maybe,” he replied, low and rough. “But today… today I’ll see exactly what you’ll do to me.”

Before I could even think of retaliation, a sharp knock at the door cut through the tension.

“Sir, she’s here,” his guard called from outside, the closed door keeping him out, shattering the intimate tension between us.

I groaned, pressing my thighs together instinctively, my eyes narrowing in frustration. “Who is she?” I demanded, voice sharp, breath catching as he leaned back from me, stepping off the bed. His fingers brushed my lap as he passed, the lingering contact sending a shiver racing through me, igniting a fire that throbbed between my thighs long after he moved.

“Meet me downstairs when you’re done eating, naughty little flame,” he said before striding toward the door. He unlocked it, stepped out, and the soft click of the lock sealed me inside, leaving me stranded, heated, and achingly frustrated and longing for him.

My mind raced, sharp and vicious with the question, Who the fuck is her? The question clawed at me, hot and ugly, refusing to settle.

I grabbed the tray from the nightstand like it had personally offended me and tore into the meal, grilled salmon with garlic butter and roasted vegetables still steaming. The flavors coated my tongue, rich and savory, but they couldn’t drown the heat simmering beneath my skin. It should’ve calmed me. It didn’t do a damn thing.

Curiosity and frustration buckled together, tangled with the lingering ache he’d left in my body. My thighs pressed together without permission, still sensitive from the way he’d touched me, teased me and left me burning.

And still…her. Whoever she was, she held some kind of place in his life that he didn’t feel the need to explain. A woman his guard announced without hesitation. A woman he didn’t bother giving a name.

My pulse throbbed, slow and heavy.

My mind betrayed me, painting possibilities I didn’t want to see, him with other women, him touching someone else the way he touched me, him using that low, sinful tone on someone who wasn’t locked in his room, eating his food, waiting like a good little captive he enjoyed playing with.

And the worst part? I hated the way it made me feel. Jealous. Possessive. Like I had any right to be. I’m just his contracted slut.

His plaything and his toy.

His indulgence on the nights he feels like ruining something soft. So why does my chest tighten like this? Why does my stomach twist? Why does the thought of him with her make my blood simmer?

Why do I even fucking care?

Right…Because the truth pulsed through me with humiliating clarity, he might have bought my body…but somewhere along the line, he started taking pieces of me I never agreed to give.