Page 68 of Sacred Vow
His gaze narrows, and while I’m sure he doesn’t know how that particular thought popped into my head, I can only assume that he’s made his own guesses. “I do,” he tells me, “And no, you can’t fuck him.”
“What a shame. I could have made the trifecta.”
Caesar smirks as we make our way past eager members, my gaze dancing around the room and taking in the sights. “Would you like my nephew, too?”
“Only if he inherited that supreme Di Rozé tongue game.”
Caesar shakes his head. “Remind me to chain you to my side at Christmas.”
“Christmas?” I ask, glancing up at him with my brow arched, certain he has absolutely no idea of the havoc his words have just caused inside of me. “It’s just sex, remember? Inviting girls to have Christmas with your family certainly seems like a conflict of interest, don’t you think?”
He pauses for the slightest fraction of a second, barely long enough for anyone to notice, but when it comes to Caesar Di Rozé, I notice everything. He slipped up. He’s obviously joking about Christmas, but it’s the intent behind it that holds weight. Is this becoming something more than just sex to him, too?
He recovers almost instantly, his eyes flashing with silent laughter, shrugging off the comment as though it didn’t even happen. “It’s not a conflict at all,” he tells me. “Zephyr obviously needs someone to play with at the children’s table. I wouldn’t want him alone on Christmas.”
“Ahhh, well, that’s a shame. You’ll have to find someone else to keep him company, because I’ll be too busy screwing your nephew in your bed.”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head in exasperation as pride swells in my chest, knowing without a doubt that I just won that round.
“Come on,” he finally says. “Just around this corner.”
All thoughts of nephews and Christmas fall from my mind as a wave of nerves crashes down in the pit of my stomach. “Who are these guys?” I ask, shifting a little closer to him.
“Just faceless men,” he tells me. “You don’t need to worry about who they are. They’re here for you. All that matters is your pleasure, hellcat. Your desires. Your fantasies.”
“You’re staying, right?” I ask, stuck on his comment about them being faceless men. What does that even mean? “It’s you and two others, not just three random men?”
“You really think I’m about to miss any of this and allow some other fucker to take my place? Hell no. I intend to spend the next few hours ravaging your body and making you feel things you never knew you were capable of.”
Well shit.
“I’m not going to need a safe word, am I?”
“No, Tilly,” he says with a laugh. “It’s not like that, not unless you want it to be. We’ll follow your lead, give you what your body is craving, and while we’ll push your limits, we won’t cross them.”
The nervous energy quickly morphs into full-blown excitement, my pulse thrumming in my ears, and as we step around the final corner into the dimly lit private booth, I find two masked men, their faces completely concealed. I suck in a gasp, my gaze flicking between the two.
They’re huge. Both are shirtless and in dark pants with the top button already popped. And damn it, my mouth waters.
One sits to the left of the booth, relaxed in the cushioned seating as though he were at home, watching the game. His strong, muscled arm is casually thrown over the top of the chair,and the way he is relaxed against the cushion has every last one of his abs perfectly positioned. He’s a fucking god.
It’s impossible to tell with him sitting, but he looks tall. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s about the same height as Caesar. Six-foot-three at least.
My gaze shifts to the other man. He stands to the right, his big arms crossed over a wide, muscled chest. I can practically feel his stare on me through his mask, and it has shivers racing down my spine. He’s gorgeous. His shoulders are huge, and even in this dim lighting, I can see the warm tone of his skin.
“Mmmmm, bella,” the masked man to my left says, a slight Italian accent in his tone. “You’re breathtaking. Show me how stunning you are.”
I bite down on my bottom lip and step deeper into the booth as Caesar stands back, discreetly stepping directly into the open entryway of the booth as if to close off our little party.
“I told you she was gorgeous,” Caesar rumbles from behind me.
A smile pulls at my lips, and as I glance back at him, I watch the way he starts unbuttoning his top, slowly popping one at a time as if knowing how that simple movement will drive me wild. His shirt falls open, and he lets the material drop to the ground.
He steps in closer, moving right behind me until I feel his warm chest at my back, and when his fingers skim across my body, shivers begin to sail across my skin. His lips drop to the curve of my neck, kissing me there, when his fingers grasp the string at the top of my spine—the one and only string holding my silk black minidress together.
“Let’s show them just how fucking ravishing you are, hellcat.”
I groan, and he tugs the string, releasing its hold, and not a moment later, the silky material cascades down my body like a waterfall, collecting at my feet.
