Page 13 of Breaking Rosalind
She bucks her hips and whimpers, begging for another strike of the belt, but my cock has other plans.
I want to fuck her so hard that her teeth rattle. Pound into her with the full force of my strength until she prays to me for mercy.
Most of all, I want her helpless beneath me and humbled. But for that, I’ll need restraints.
I toss the belt aside and pull her off the desk. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“We’re going to my playroom.”
FIVE
ROSALIND
Cesare marches me to his Lamborghini, and I shut the fuck up, not wanting to ruin this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to infiltrate the Montesano stronghold.
Tonight isn’t about murder. Gunther has only authorized me to gather intel, so killing Cesare won’t get me paid. The firm doesn’t explain why each target needs to be killed, and we’re not paid to ask questions.
If I take out Cesare without permission, I’m looking at another fine, which will add to the mountain of debt I already owe the firm. The worst-case scenario involves Miranda getting hurt. And we’d lose the chance to kill the other two brothers when the Montesanos tightened their security. That’s why I’ll scope out their home for weaknesses and return with backup.
Cesare drives us in his dickmobile through the hairpin turns of Alderney Hills with one hand on the steering wheel. The other works its way up and down on my thigh, while he makes all kinds of filthy promises.
I squirm in the leather seat, buck my hips, make the right noises, and keep my temper in check. This would be hot if he wasn’t so reckless. The visibility here is terrible, with tall evergreens blocking our view, yet he barrels through these treacherous roads notorious for their fatal collisions.
My training as an assassin meant withstanding most forms of torture, but witnessing Cesare risk our lives within this beautiful feat of engineering for sex is pushing my limits.
When we reach tall electric gates guarded by a small army of armored guards, some of the tension eases. The Montesano mansion is the perfect fortress, sitting at the top of a hill and surrounded by impenetrable walls and a dense forest.
I hold my features in a mask of indifference as one of the guard peers in through the open window and stares at me through narrowed eyes. When he allows us entry, all traces of anxiety and annoyance give way to a thrill of success.
My heart pounds the way it usually does when I’m close to achieving a goal. I inhale a deep breath to slow down my pulse.
Cesare navigates the last stretch of tree-lined roads toward a white mansion lit up like the Pantheon. I’m no expert on architecture, but I know enough to recognize the classical Roman influences in the stone columns that make up its grand entrance.
I study the building, taking in every detail, including the double doors that make up its entrance, its tall windows, the guards marching through the dark, and the pathways.
As I commit the security measures to memory, Cesare’s fingers slide up to my wet pussy, making my breath catch.
“Still horny, baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with arrogance.
My nipples tighten. I bite down on my bottom lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a moan.
“Not particularly,” I mutter.
He snickers, his fingers thrumming my clit. “Liar.”
I release a shuddering exhale, excited only at the prospect of gathering intel on the Montesano brothers. The bonus I get from this job might make a dent in my debt to the firm for all the equipment I damaged when I rescued Miranda.
When we drive past the mansion’s double doors with no sign of slowing, my heart plummets into my lap. My plan won’t work if I can’t explore their residence.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur. “Changed your mind about showing me your playroom?”
He turns to me with a wide grin. “Eager?”
I scoff. “This isn’t the first time a man has promised a red room of pain that’s turned out to be a mattress on the floor lit up by a colored lightbulb.”
The smile fades, as do all traces of smugness. “After tonight, I’m going to ruin you for other men.”