Moving out

CEASAR'S POV

The horn blared from outside sharply, impatient, long and insistent, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

My driver kept pressing the horn as a reminder that we were late.

My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

Of all the fucking timing. That stupid driver had to remind me we were late.

I snarled, buried to the hilt, grinding deep, cock throbbing inside her like a second heartbeat, balls drawn so tight they ached, desperate to unload but I take too damn long to come when I’m this wound up, when I’m this lost in her, when every nerve is on fire and the need to ruin her is stronger than the need to breathe.

“Motherfucker,” I growled through clenched teeth.

I pulled back slowly, letting her feel every inch drag through her ruined walls, then slammed in once more hard enough to lift her clean off her feet, grinding deep, hips rolling, trying to force it, trying to spill inside her right then and there, flooding her until she overflowed.

Still nothing.

With a guttural, animal curse, I forced myself to pull out slowly, savoring the wet, filthy pop as her swollen pussy tried desperately to keep me inside. Her tight ring clung to the head for one last heartbeat before releasing me with a slick, obscene sound that echoed off the marble.

My cock sprang free, angry-red, veins pulsing, glistening with her, still rock-hard and aching with the need to finish what I’d started.

JaneVera whimpered at the loss, legs shaking violently, pussy gaping open, swollen lips fluttering around nothing as a thick, fresh stream of her spilled from her ruined hole. It ran in a hot, obscene river down her inner thigh, tracing the trembling muscle all the way to her knee, dripping onto the floor in slow, shameful drops even though I hadn’t come with her.

I watched it drip, watched her tremble, watched her try to close her legs and fail because they wouldn’t hold her weight anymore.

Perfect.

I tucked myself away with a hiss, the zipper barely closing over the ridge, teeth grinding as the pressure bordered on pain. If I didn’t stop myself now, we would never make it to that engagement at all.

I growled low in my chest, anger and desire blending into something feral.

“We’re late,” I muttered, voice shredded.

I reached down, smoothed the ruined silk of her dress back into place with rough, possessive hands just enough to cover the evidence, though nothing could hide the flush burning across her skin, the violent shake in her legs, or the fresh bite marks blooming dark and perfect on her neck.

She was wrecked and glowing and mine.

And tonight, the whole damn world was going to know it.

I reached down and offered my hand.

She took it, fingers trembling and I pulled her gently upright, drawing her flush against my chest. Her legs barely held her, I felt the tremor ripple through her thighs as she leaned into me. I dipped my head, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Not done,” I rasped, voice raw and gravel-rough. “But the world’s waiting to see what I did to you.” I pressed a slow, possessive kiss to the fresh bite mark on her sweat-slick shoulder, tasting salt and sex and her. “Right now you’ll walk in there exactly like this, your legs shaking, pussy dripping me, knowing I’m still hard because you’re that fucking perfect.”

Vera whimpered again, soft, broken, and beautiful, her face flushed crimson, eyes glassy, and chest heaving.

I licked a stripe up the column of her throat, savoring the way she shivered, then spun her to face me.

For one heartbeat I just looked, her dress barely containing her swollen breasts, nipples still hard against the silk, lips bitten and red, hair wild, thighs trembling beneath the ruined hem.

I forced myself to step back, adjusting my cufflinks like I hadn’t just wrecked her against the wall. “But the second we’re alone again,” I said, voice low and lethal, “I’m finishing this. I’m fucking you until you can’t walk, until my cum is the only thing you feel for days.”

I tilted her chin with two fingers and crushed my mouth to hers hard, claiming, tasting her, tasting myself on her tongue. She melted into it, a soft, needy sound vibrating against my lips.

I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

“Now fix your lipstick, little firecracker. We’ve got an ex to bury.”

Her hands shook as she adjusted her breasts back into the plunging neckline, rearranged the wild waves of her hair, and swiped fresh red across her swollen lips with trembling fingers.

I watched every second of it, cock still aching, pulse still hammering.

When she was done, she looked like sin made flesh and still smelled like sex.

Perfect.

I took her hand small, warm, trembling just a little and pulled her toward the door.

“Now let’s go, baby,” I murmured low against her ear, savoring the full-body shiver that rolled through her. “Time to show the world what a stupid fuck your ex really is.” And I led my ruined, perfect queen out into the night, knowing every step she took would remind her exactly who she belonged to and the moment we were alone again, I’d finish what I started and this time, there would be no interruptions and I wouldn’t stop until she couldn’t walk straight, until her voice was gone, until my name was branded so deep inside her she’d feel it in her bones for weeks.

But for now, she looked up at me with those dangerous, smoky eyes, every stolen glance a reminder, she was mine, my problem, my pride and my madness.

And no engagement, no crowded ballroom, and no set of hungry eyes would ever change that.

My driver, Luca, was already waiting beside the blacked-out Maybach SUV, engine idling low under the late-afternoon sun. He didn’t bat an eye at the fact we were hours late or that JaneVera’s lipstick was smeared, her thighs trembling, her skin still flushed from what I’d done to her. He just opened the rear door with a curt, professional nod.

I slid into the back seat first, settling into the cool, dark leather, then reached for her. She followed without hesitation, the silk of her dress shimmering as she moved, the high slit parting wider with every step, flashing more of that toned thigh still marked by my grip.

The door shut with a heavy, final thunk and Luca climbed into the driver’s seat, the partition already raised, blacked out, and soundproof.

The second the lock clicked, the outside world disappeared. City lights became nothing more than streaks of gold and neon bleeding across tinted glass.

I leaned back, legs spread, eyes locked on her.

“Sit close,” I commanded, voice low, rough, vibrating in the quiet cabin. “We’re not done… not even close.”

She obeyed instantly, sliding across the cool leather until her thigh pressed flush against mine, the heat of her skin burning straight through the silk and into my blood. Her scent of raw sex, sweat, and the dark bite of my cologne still clinging to her flooded the enclosed space, thick and intoxicating.

I draped one arm along the back of the seat, lazy possession, fingers brushing the bare curve of her shoulder, thumb tracing the fresh, blooming bite mark I’d left there just minutes ago.

She shivered, a full-body tremor that rippled down to her toes.

The night had only just begun and I still had plans for her.

She settled beside me, trying and failing to smooth the ruined silk over her thighs like it could hide anything. The slit had ridden so high I could see the shine of her slick still leaking out of her, glistening against her inner thigh in the passing streetlights. Her legs were still shaking, tiny aftershocks making the muscles in her thighs twitch every few seconds.

She caught me staring and bit her lip, cheeks flushing that gorgeous post-fucked pink.

I leaned in, voice low, lethal, barely above a growl.

“Spread your legs.”

Her breath hitched, sharp and audible in the quiet cabin.