Page 40 of Sacred Vow
TILLY
I ce clinks in my glass as I sit at Vixen’s incredible bar, the slighted nerves making themselves known deep in my chest. It’s been a long day dealing with a killer hangover and feeling sorry for myself after practically throwing myself at Caesar in his car last night.
What was I thinking, calling him? I was supposed to be ordering an Uber, yet somehow I ended up calling Caesar.
It wasn’t even my intention to have him pick us up, yet he came without me even needing to ask.
He’s just a real man like that, and in being a real man, he kept his hands off me even when I was desperately grinding against him like a cat in heat.
Fuck. I really am falling for this man. Just the idea of seeing him tonight has a deep hunger booming in my chest. I don’t know what he has in store for our night, but considering I told him to set up our little playdate with his friends, I can only assume how this is going to go.
To be completely honest, at first, I really wanted this. When I was watching the pure heaven that other woman was in, I needed to experience it, and don’t get me wrong, I still do. Only when Caesar brought it up in his kitchen, my motivation had shifted.
I wanted to see how he would react to seeing another man’s hands on my body, seeing another man inside of me, having another man’s pleasure.
Will he be jealous? Will it drive him wild the way that it would do to me?
A grin pulls across my lips. I suppose we’re about to find out.
A body steps in behind me as the gentle caress of fingers dances across my shoulder, brushing my hair back as the familiar scent of Caesar’s cologne wraps around me.
My eyes flutter closed, and just when I think the sensation couldn’t get any better, he drops his lips to the base of my neck, sending a wave of pure pleasure coursing through my body.
“Are you ready?” he rumbles, that thick tone doing wicked things to me.
I nod, and his hand lowers to my waist. “Come then.”
Caesar helps me off the barstool, his hand falling to the small of my back, and after leaving my drink at the bar, he leads me deeper into the VIP floor. “You sure you want this?”
My gaze shifts up to his, studying his stare and waiting for any sign that he’s hesitating even a bit, but when nothing comes, I simply nod.
“You have no idea how sure I am,” I tell him, wondering who the hell these other men are, and if I know them.
Would it be weird if Zeph was one of them?
Oh, I wonder if Caesar has a brother, and if so, would he fuck like Caesar?
And with that very thought, it occurs to me that I really don’t know much about the man that I’m very quickly falling head over heels for. How is that even possible?
“Where’d that pretty little head of yours just go?”
A grin pulls at the corner of my lips, and I shrug my shoulders, playing coy. “Oh, nowhere,” I tell him. “I was just wondering if you happened to have a brother?”
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.
I casually step out of my dress, feeling like a fucking goddess with their eyes dancing across my body, skimming over the slight curve of my waist and trailing up to my full breasts. Caesar’s hand lingers on my waist, his thumb stretching across my back.
“Free rein?” I ask him.
“Whatever you want,” he rumbles.
A smile pulls across my lips, and I glance between the two masked men before focusing my attention on the one standing, and as I stride toward him, his arms fall to his sides, welcoming anything I could possibly want.
As I step into him, my hand brushes across his wide chest and trails down his abs. His hand falls to my waist, right where Caesar’s was only a minute ago. He’s perfect, and as a thrill pulses through me, I glance back at Caesar, watching the way he watches me.
His eyes are dark and full of desire, but not a single hint of jealousy, not even when this incredibly gorgeous man slides his hand down past my waist and to the curve of my ass, squeezing firmly.
He spins me around in his arms, his hand skimming across the front of my thigh before dipping between my legs and cupping my pussy.
“Caesar was right. You’re fucking irresistible,” he tells me, his lips trailing across my shoulder as I melt back against his strong body.
“I can’t wait to see you begging on your knees for me. ”
I suck in a breath, my heart already hammering as Caesar’s gaze remains locked on me, watching the way my body so easily responds in this other man’s hands.
Caesar takes a step forward, collecting something off the edge of the booth, and when he pulls a mask over his head, everything crumbles within me.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my pussy clenching with need. How is this real life?