Page 132 of Cruel Deception
He circled it once, twice, then pressed harder, stroking in a rhythm that set my nerves on fire. My hips jerked into his hand, breath catching, a cry escaping my lips before I could swallow it. I buried my face in his chest, moaning against his skin as pleasure bloomed sharp and fast, every pulse of his touch unraveling me.
His other hand fisted in my hair, anchoring me to him as my body trembled under the weight of sensation. I clung to him, every part of me begging for more, for mercy, for ruin.
My legs buckled.
“Please,” I whispered, chest heaving. “Please, don’t stop—”
But then—again—he pulled away.
His fingers left me just as I was about to shatter, leaving me clenching around nothing, the orgasm ripped from my reach. I gasped, desperate, my body arching in protest, but he stepped back like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.
Empty. Aching. Burning.
It wasn’t just denial—it was punishment. For the doubt. For the question. For the sin of not trusting him.
I whimpered, breathless. My thighs trembled, slick and wanting, and still—he did nothing.
“You don’t get to come,” he said darkly, his eyes locked on mine, “if you think I’d fuck someone else.”
I clutched him.
“Who gave you the idea I was cheating?” he asked again, voice low.
I couldn’t speak. My lips trembled. My heart pounded.
He lifted me effortlessly—like I weighed nothing but the chaos between us—and carried me across the room.
He set me down on the wide marble table by the window—the one where he reviewed his weapons, planned his kills, drew out the lines of war.
Cold. Hard. Stark.
A surface built for violence, not vulnerability.
My bare thighs touched the marble and I hissed at the chill, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Because he stood between my knees now, his hands still gripping my hips, his gaze locked on mine like I was the only thing keeping him tethered.
I looked down, voice trembling.
“It was a text,” I said. “From Luca.”
He stilled.
The air cracked with silence.
His hands clenched around me like he was trying to decide whether to pull me closer or push me away
His jaw locked, muscles ticking as he bit down, hard. The bulge in his trousers slowly faded, deflating with his restraint—or rage. His eyes darkened, not with lust now, but something colder. Sharper. The shift in him was instant, like a storm rolling in, swallowing the heat we’d just created.
“Of course it was,” he muttered, jaw clenching. “After everything he’s done, you still trust him?”
“He told me to ask Elodie,” I whispered.
He turned away, stalking to the window. “Then ask her.”
“And if she says it’s true?” I challenge, my heart pounding.
He spun back, eyes blazing, his voice rising, sharp as a blade. “So what? It’s your problem if you trust a snake like Luca over me.”
“Just say it,” I cried. “Say he’s lying. Say you haven’t touched anyone else. Please.”
