I Want Her

JaneVera’s POV

For the next forty-five minutes she did exactly that. Dress after dress after dress. Heel after heel. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets that could pay rent for a year. I’d disappear into the changing alcove, step out, and twirl under the soft, golden lights while she circled me like a general inspecting troops. Ten gowns, fifteen, twenty silk whispering over my skin, satin clinging, velvet heavy, feathers brushing my thighs, crystals catching the light like scattered stars. She kept shaking her head, muttering, “No… not lethal enough,” or “Close, but not cruel enough.”

I stepped in and out of silk and satin until my feet ached and my head spun, while she would either nod or shake her head no.

Until finally, finally, her fingers paused on a hanger near the very back. She pulled it out slowly, reverently.

I slipped it on. The dress slid over me like liquid midnight poured straight from a starless sky. Tiny black diamonds were scattered across the fabric like crushed galaxies, catching the vanity bulbs and fracturing them into wicked, lethal sparks. Xandra’s fingers found the hidden zipper at my back and drew it upward in one slow, reverent pull. The sound it made was the softest hiss of a blade leaving its sheath.

I twirled, posed for her to observe if it was the right dress that suited me.

Then she stepped back and just stared.

And I suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Her eyes went wide, lips parted on a soft, reverent, “Holy fuck,” she whispered and I turned to the three-way mirror, impatient, curious, almost afraid to see what had stolen her breath.

And the woman staring back wasn’t the girl who once got cheated on. Not the woman who’d been shattered and rebuilt in Caesar’s bed. She was lethal. She was power wrapped in silk and vengeance and she was every promise Caesar had ever growled against my skin made flesh.

The dress clung to me without clinging, skimming every curve without ever clinging, a second skin that lied beautifully. A thigh-high slit flashed a long, lethal leg with every shift of weight and left just enough to the imagination to make a man lose his mind trying to picture what was underneath. The back plunged so low the twin dimples above my ass gleamed like a dare no sane man would take. No bra. No panties. Just silk.

Xandra’s voice came out hushed, almost awed. “Neven’s not going to survive this.” and I smiled, slow, sharp, dangerous.

“Good,” I said.

She handed me the heels, thin straps of black leather that turned my legs into weapons. Then the choker, a single band of cold, perfect diamonds that circled my throat like ice and ownership. Finally the earrings, long, dagger-shaped drops of black diamonds that brushed my bare shoulders when I moved.

I slid them in. The woman in the mirror tilted her head. The diamonds flashed like warning shots. Perfect and ready to walk into that party and watch Neven realize exactly what he lost. Ready for Caesar to decide perfection had lasted long enough and dragged me into the dark to ruin it all over again.

“Yes,” Xandra whispered, reverent. “This is the one.”

I drew one slow breath, tasting the red on my lips and felt something ancient and vicious uncoil inside my chest.

Xandra’s grin turned feral. “Come on. Caesar’s waiting, and I’m not missing the look on his face when he sees what we just built.” She didn’t wait for an answer. She simply spun on her heel and strode out, heels clicking like gunshots down the hallway.

I followed. Each step sent the silk whispering over my skin, the slit flashing thigh, the diamonds scattering light like broken glass.

At the top of the grand staircase I paused and below, in the marble foyer lit only by a single chandelier, he waited. Caesar, one hand in his pocket, the other flexing slowly at his side. The outline of his cock was already thick and obvious against the front of his trousers, hard and impatient.

He looked up and the moment our eyes locked, the air left the room. His jaw flexed. Pupils swallowed the blue until only hunger remained. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just devoured me with a stare that promised ruin in every language ever invented.

I descended. One slow step. Two. The silk hissed. The diamonds blazed. My pulse thundered between my thighs with every inch I closed between us. I reached the final step and he still hadn’t moved, but his chest rose and fell like he’d been running for miles.

I stopped just out of reach.

His gaze dragged over me slowly and filthy, from the dagger earrings to the choker at my throat to the plunging neckline to the slit that revealed the smooth inside of my thigh.

His hand left his pocket. He adjusted himself once then finally spoke, voice gravel and smoke. “Jesus fucking Christ, Jane.”

I smiled.

“Careful,” I murmured. “You’ll ruin the line of your suit.”

He stepped forward, closing the last breath of space between us, and cupped my jaw with one possessive hand. His thumb traced my bottom lip, smearing the red just enough to remind me who it belonged to.

“The line’s already ruined,” he growled against my mouth. “I’m two seconds from turning you against the wall and fucking you until that dress is on the floor and my name is the only sound you can make.”

I leaned in, let my lips brush his, and let him taste the promise.

“Then don’t waste the two seconds,” I whispered.

His grip tightened and a low, dangerous sound rumbling in his chest like he was fighting against the temptation of ruining me.

Xandra cleared her throat, amusement in her voice.

“I’ll… give you two a minute” She melted into the shadows with a soft, delighted laugh, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving us alone beneath the chandelier’s cold, glittering fire.

Tonight, Neven would watch a ghost walk in wearing his regrets. And Caesar? He was going to wreck me all over again, harder, deeper, until my lipstick smeared across his mouth, until my thighs shook so badly I couldn’t walk straight, until the only name I remembered and the only name I could scream was his. He was going to make me scream his name so loud the chandeliers trembled. Over and over and over, until the entire city knew exactly who I belonged to. Caesar. Only Caesar and forever, Caesar.