Page 219 of Breaking Rosalind
She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as though I’ve finally pushed her too far. It was a dick move to ask while I’m edging her, but I want to hear her say the words just once.
In a voice barely above a whisper, she says, “So much... Cesare, I want you so much.”
Triumph punches through my chest, breaking through the last of my restraint. With a forceful thrust, I slam into her tight heat, making her body jerk against the ropes and her eyes to fly open with shock. She inhales a choked gasp, like she’s feeling my cock in the back of her throat.
“That’s right, pet,” I growl. “Feel me. All of me.”
Tremors wrack her limbs as she strains against the ropes. Maybe a small part of her body still rebels against the bondage because her cunt tightens around my shaft with a punishing grip.
Groaning, I try not to think about how she gained this level of control over her pelvic floor muscles, and pull back, only to snap my hips and reenter her with a hard thrust.
I pick up the pace, thrusting into her with every ounce of strength I have. She makes breathy gasps as her body jerks back and forth within the ropes, the momentum deepening the penetration. It’s almost like she’s fucking me back.
“Fuck, Rosalind. Your greedy pussy is aching for this cock.”
“Oh, god,” she cries.
“I know, pet.”
She squeezes extra tight, making me growl, “Good girl. Such a good little pet. You’re taking it so well.”
Tension coils behind my balls, but I refuse to let go. Not until she’s convulsing around my cock. I clench my teeth, my mind going blank as I drive into her again and again, making sure my piercings graze her most sensitive spots.
Her eyes are feverish and wild, and her tits bounce with every shuddering breath. She’s close, but I’m not sure if I can last.
“Come for me. Scream so loud that they can hear you at the gates,” I growl, my hand sliding between our bodies and finding her clit. “Now.”
Rosalind cries out, and her limbs thrashing within the ropes. Her pussy trembles around my shaft, pumping, squeezing, demanding more. The sight of her, open and vulnerable beneath me, pulls me deeper into her abyss.
The room spins, and my entire world disappears until it’s me, my little vixen and her tight, wet heat.
I’m both invincible and exposed, feeling like I don’t know if I’ve conquered a goddess or if she has finally conquered me. All I know is that if she ever left me, I would surely die.
Blood roars between my ears as pleasure radiates across my midsection, before concentrating on my cock. It intensifies until I reach a point of no return where I couldn’t stop coming, even if Matty Galliano charged in here with a militia.
Pressure builds up, and my muscles contract. My vision turns white in the heartbeats it takes for my release to surge with unstoppable force.
Rosalind’s pussy continues to contract, draining every last drop from my balls before I collapse on top of her, gasping for breath.
“Fuck, baby, you were made for me. My perfect little pet.”
She makes a noise that may or may not sound like agreement. It’s definitely not a protest.
Once my limbs stop trembling, I pull out of her and disentangle her limbs from the ropes. Rosalind falls into my arms like a rag doll, breathless, limp, and all mine. I gaze down into her dazed features, marveling at how I’ve subdued her with my cock.
Later, we soak in the hot tub, where I place her on my lap and massage feeling back into her limbs. She’s everything I ever wanted in a dangerous little package, and I resolve to continue proving to her that she’s going to need me in her life even after she’s destroyed the Moirai.
When I return upstairs, there’s a message from Roman, confirming that the Moirai have agreed to call off the hit in exchange for the ten hostages. They’ve even agreed to make the exchange on the same day as their graduation.
I drive Rosalind to Newtown Crematorium, where we meet my cousins, Aria and Elania, who are always ready to let us use their cremators. The twins are Roman’s age, but they always made a beeline for me when they visited the house. I used to love how they pampered me and treated my brothers like shit. They used to be identical back then, but now it’s easier to tell them apart.
People make the mistake of thinking Elania is the pushover because of her long black hair and pretty silk dresses, but I’ve seen her knife a man in the heart. Aria wears her hair shorter than any of my brothers and doesn’t have a single feminine bone in her body. She would look like a dude if it wasn’t for her delicate bone structure.
She guides us to a visitation room, where they’ve dressed Britt in a black pantsuit and laid her in a coffin.
Rosalind chokes a sob. “It looks like she’s asleep.”
Thank fuck my cousins are geniuses at making the dead appear lifelike. They’ve added color to the blonde’s sallow features, making her look at peace.