Page 27 of Sacred Vow
“Everything alright, Mr. Di Rozé?” a voice asks from across the elevator. “You look . . . unwell.”
I force a smile across my face as I glance to the other side of the elevator, finding my CFO’s personal assistant, Sarah, almost shaking at the thought of having spoken directly to me. “Yes, Sarah. Just fine, thank you.”
Her eyes practically bulge out of her head. “Oh shit. He knows my name,” she mutters, before gaping and realizing she said that out loud. “Ahhh fuck. That’s embarrassing. Can we uhh—”
“Pretend that didn’t happen?”
“Yes please,” she practically squeaks.
I almost laugh. There are women like this at Vixen. Beautiful, young women in their early twenties who generally end up playing a submissive role. They’re shy and don’t have the courage to ask for what they want, and while I’ve been known to enjoy a submissive woman from time to time, I prefer the ones who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, who demand what they want and take it with both hands. A woman just like Tilly.
I nod, and as the elevator opens on the top floor, Sarah scurries out of it, all but sprinting away as she turns to the right and disappears down the hall. Then with my cock painfully straining in my pants, I step out of the elevator and head to the left, aiming for the one door on this side, the one with my name. CEO, CAESAR DI ROZÉ.
“Morning, Caesar,” my secretary, Margaret, says as I fly past her. “Coffee is on your desk and the Ellis file is prepped and ready for review. Shall I bring it in?”
“Just give me ten minutes,” I tell her.
Margaret nods and gets straight back to work. It’s not unusual for me to step into my office, close the door, and forget about the outside world until it’s time to leave, and for the most part, Margaret tends to leave me alone. She’s been with me right from the start, and at this point in my career, she’s basically my right hand. I wouldn’t remember to eat if I didn’t have her.
I all but race into my office, closing the door behind me before flicking the lock, and before my ass has even hit the soft cushioning of my desk chair, my cock is already in my hand.
I let out a breath, the relief slamming through my chest like a semi-truck colliding into a brick wall. Leaning back in my chair, my grip tightens on my cock, and I close my eyes as my hand glides up and down, picturing Tilly between my thighs, her small hands working me as she closes her mouth around my tip, sucking me dry.
Fuck, she would be such a little tease, working me right to the tip, only to pause and look up at me with a devilish grin. She’d enjoy it too. God, she’d be everything.
I come almost instantly, pouring hot spurts of cum into my hand as I clench my jaw, trying to keep quiet so as to not alarm Margaret. Then as I sit here with cum in my hand and my chest heaving for air, all I can do is stare out the window at the beautiful cityscape below, wondering how the hell Tilly Bardot managed to fuck with my head already.
After cleaning myself up and managing to act like I deserve this damn office, I get stuck into work, reviewing the Ellis file before flying through the list of shit Margaret needs me to sign off on.
It’s just before lunch when I get an alert on my home security system telling me there’s movement inside my home, and as my brows furrow, I realize I must have accidentally set the alarm before I left. Most nights Zeph doesn’t sleep at home. He’s generally in somebody else’s bed, and it’s become a habit to set the alarm as I’m walking out the door.
Logging into the system, I bring up my home surveillance just to double check, and sure enough, Tilly and Zeph are making themselves comfortable in my kitchen. Zeph eats like a fucking pig, and I’m not surprised. It was a rookie error to skip out ondinner after Tilly put him through his paces. The poor kid must have been starving.
I won’t lie, after finishing with her last night and having to watch her walk back up to Zeph’s bed, something didn’t sit right with me. She belonged in my bed where I would have spent every last hour buried inside her until the sun was peeking through my bedroom window. But I’m the one who made the fucking deal. I’m the one who made her vow that this was nothing more than sex. She doesn’t belong in my bed, and she sure as fuck doesn’t belong trapped inside my head like this.
I shouldn’t be jealous of Zeph. I should be pleased that he had a beautiful woman wrapped around him all night, but what I wouldn’t have given to have her wrapped around me instead.
The good news is, Zeph isn’t falling in love with her any time soon. I’ve seen him with women he’s infatuated with. He’s like a love-sick puppy. I’d give my life for that kid, but that doesn’t mean I can’t think he’s a fucking idiot at the best of times. When he’s chasing a woman, it’s downright embarrassing. The way he pouts over them and shamelessly gives in to anything they want, it’s humiliating to admit he shares my DNA. He sure as fuck didn’t learn that shit from me. But he’s not like that with Tilly. He was his authentic self, making it clear she’s nothing more than a friend with exceptional benefits. Though that doesn’t mean that won’t change.
As Zeph continues to raid my kitchen, I watch as Tilly moves into him. They’re clearly flirting, and Zeph is eating that shit up like the sucker he is. My finger itches to hover over the mouse and click on the little audio button in the top corner of my screen, but while I might have questionable morals, there are some lines I won’t cross where my son is concerned.
Tilly leans in closer, her fingers dancing across his bare chest when she pauses and glances down at Zeph’s watch. Her eyeswiden, and she’s out of the kitchen almost immediately, racing around my house and collecting all of her shit.
She’s in a panic, clearly late for something, and as she meets Zeph back in the kitchen, I watch in disbelief as he tosses her the keys to his Range Rover.
“This fucking kid,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head. No wonder he goes through cars like he goes through women. He could have offered to drive her home instead of just handing over the whole damn car. Where’s the common sense here? Though, when it comes to Tilly, I don’t believe there’s anything to worry about. She’ll return his car, but that doesn’t mean the next girl will.
Tilly’s gone in no time, and with just Zeph left wandering around my home, I exit out of the security feed and get back to work while realizing that working Tilly Bardot out of my system might not be quite as easy as I originally planned.
Getting home after spending the day with Tilly on my mind, I walk through my front door to find Zephyr and his friend Jordan kicked back on my couch as though they couldn’t possibly have anything better to do on a Wednesday night.
They both glance up at my arrival, lift their chins, and grunt something unintelligible before turning their attention right back to the TV.
I roll my eyes and stride past them before dumping my shit in the kitchen. I doubt the boys have done much apart from stare at the TV all afternoon, but I’m pleased to see that they had the good sense to at least order takeout.
I help myself to something to eat, and as I lean back against the counter, I watch Jordan for a minute. He’s always been astrange kid, but the boys have been best friends since before I can remember. Zeph was the kid who had a murderer as a father, so naturally, most kids were kept away, but not Jordan. He was oddly intrigued by that.
The other kids weren’t allowed to come over, and I respect that. To be honest, if the shoe was on the other foot, I probably would have made the same call as a parent. But after I was released from prison, Jordan was the only friend of Zeph’s who didn’t give a shit. Either that or his parents had no fucking idea what was going on. I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ve never met his mother, but his father has always been too buried in his work to know what the fuck his son is getting up to.
