“Harder. Faster,” I beg and gasp, my voice barely audible, and Caelian obeys without hesitation.
His body tenses, like a coiled spring, and then he's moving, his hips snapping up to meet me with a force that has me seeing stars. He's relentless, a battering ram that pounds against my senses and leaves me in tatters, the buckle of his belt pressing against my clit, and I grind against him as much as I can, desperate for the wave of ecstasy that is building, slowly and sweetly, in my core.
Our bodies meet in a slickened rhythm, every touch, every thrust a lightning bolt sparking another wave of desire.
“I’m close,” I whimper, desperate and pleading, the words torn from me as if he's wringing them out.
His response is a low growl that sends shivers racing down my spine, the heat between us almost unbearable.
“Make a mess on my cock, love,” he rasps against my ear. “Let me feel your pussy pulse.”
His words are the catalyst, igniting something so fierce within me, I can't hold back any longer.
My body convulses with a pleasure so intense it robs me of my breath, each wave driving me higher and higher until I'm soaring into oblivion. I cling to him like a lifeline, his name falling from my lips in a breathless chant as euphoria pierces me.
And Caelian follows, losing his rhythm, his thrusts sharp, erratic. His grip on me tightens almost painfully, and he groans against my ear at the same time I feel his cock jerk inside me, spilling his cum deep.
His weight presses into me, comforting and all-encompassing, and he pulls out, slowly lowering me to the ground. Our gazes meet, his eyes hooded with a pleasure that still lingers. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Reality slams into me with the force of a wrecking ball, and I disentangle myself from him, shimmying my dress back down. “You know I can’t.”
Caelian presses his lips together as he tucks his cock into his pants, zipping up. “See, I really didn’t want to do this.”
“Do what?”
“I’m sorry, New York.” He pulls out his phone, swipes across the screen, and practically shoves it in my face, and my entire world grinds to a horrifying halt as I stare at the image.
Bound, gagged, and with a gun pressed against his temple is…my brother.
“Cristiano.”
Chapter 22
GIANA
Ilose my shit.
Fury and fear collide within me as Caelian forces me into the car.
The second he slips in next to me, I swing wildly, but he catches my wrist, squeezing me harder and harder until it hurts, and I stop fighting. He immediately relieves the pressure but not the firm hold.
“I know I just fucked a storm of emotions into you, but calm yourself.”
“Let me out. Let me go! What the fuck did you do to Cristiano?”
“In that order, it’s hard to do. I can’t tell you a thing if you’re stomping back to Aurelio, which I don’t recommend. I’m pretty sure he’s already been informed you just walked out of this boring fundraiser with me—your real husband. So, he’ll be slightly pissed. Plus, how do I tell you where your brother is if you’re not here?”
“I swear to God, if you hurt him.”
“Relax. Here.” He presses a button on his phone and shoves it at me.
It rings a number I don’t know and it’s on FaceTime. My image appears on the screen, the heavy layer of make-up caked on my face, the wildness and fear evident in my eyes. The call is answered before I can even react, and my brother's tousled hair and forehead fill the screen.
He adjusts the phone's angle, and his familiar grin comes into focus, easing some of the tension in my chest. “Hey, G.”
“Oh, my God,” I breathe out. “Are you okay?”
“Totally. I’m fine.”