We were both breathing heavily, completely spent from what we had just done. My body felt like jelly—exhausted yet strangely content. I just wanted to lie down, bask in the aftermath, and let the feeling settle over me.
But Cesar had other plans.
He looked up at me, his dark eyes intense yet unreadable. "You look so beautiful," he murmured.
I blushed. After everything we had just done, I didn't think I was supposed to, but I did. The way he looked at me made my stomach flutter.
I started to shift, attempting to get off him and regain some sense of control, but the moment I moved, his hands gripped my waist, pulling me back into place. His smirk was lazy, teasing.
"Where are you going so quickly?"
I smiled, parting my lips to answer, but before I could speak, he pulled me toward him again. His mouth found mine, this time in a kiss that was slow, sweet, unhurried. It was the kind of kiss I had imagined for the first time—not rushed, not demanding, but full of something deeper.
Something dangerous.
It made me feel things I wasn't supposed to feel. It made me forget that this was just a fleeting moment for him, while for me, it was something more.
His fingers tangled in my hair, his other hand trailing down my back. He kissed me harder, deeper as if he wasn't done, as if he wanted more.
And I knew exactly where this was going.
I stiffened slightly. My body wanted him, but I physically couldn't. This was my first time—we had already done this twice. I was sore, my body aching in places I had never felt before.
I gently pushed against his chest, my voice soft but firm. "No, stop."
He pulled back, his brows furrowing slightly. "What's wrong?"
I hesitated, feeling embarrassed. Heat rushed to my face as I admitted quietly, "I'm sore."
His expression shifted. "Oh." His voice held something I couldn't quite place—disappointment, maybe, but also something deeper. Something I wouldn't dare name.
"It was your first time," he said after a beat. "I shouldn't have been so rough with you."
I avoided his gaze. "It's okay," I murmured, moving to climb off him.
This time, he let me go.
I hadn't expected it to hurt this much when I tried to get off him. After being on top of him for so long, I felt a deep, aching sting between my legs, a soreness I hadn't fully realized until now.
As I stood, a sharp tingling sensation ran through me, making my legs weak. I sucked in a breath, blinking back unexpected tears. I wanted to say something—maybe curse him—but I couldn't bring myself to face him.
And then, Caesar chuckled.
I snapped my head toward him, my frustration flaring at the sound of his laughter. He was laughing at me?
"Don't get mad," he said, still chuckling.
Before I could yell at him, he placed his hands on my waist and lifted me off him with ease, helping me settle onto the passenger seat. Even then, I couldn't suppress a small wince as I shifted. And he was still freaking laughing.
"What's so funny?" I snapped.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head as his smirk grew wider. "It's just… you were so brave. I mean, considering it was your first time—everything you did to get us here—I really didn't expect that in the end…" He trailed off, laughing again. "Damn, I really shouldn't be laughing."
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dull pain between my legs. Instinctively, my hand drifted downward to check myself. A sharp sting greeted my fingers, making me wince again.
Not my best moment—sitting there, touching my sore, swollen centre. But damn, it burned.
And of course, that only made Caesar laugh harder.
Annoyed, I shook off the discomfort and looked around for my dress. But when I found it, my frustration doubled. It was ruined.
"You destroyed my dress!" I snapped at him. "What the fuck am I supposed to wear now?"
He finally stopped laughing, grinning at me as he glanced down at himself. Then, with a casual shrug, he said,
"Well, you destroyed my boxers and jeans, too. So, I guess neither of us has anything to wear."
I scowled at him, but then my gaze dropped lower. Even in the dim lighting, I could see it—the evidence of what had just happened between us. The sheen of moisture on his skin. The smear of blood with our juices.
After all the pleasure I had just experienced, frustration crept in. Irritation mixed with the lingering soreness between my legs, making me restless. The dull ache was distracting, eating at me.
I needed relief.
My gaze darted around the car, searching for something—anything—to help ease the discomfort. That's when I spotted a crumpled piece of paper beneath the seat. Without thinking, I grabbed it and used it as a fan as I tried to soothe my centre.
But even as I did, frustration bubbled inside me.
And as I fumbled with that useless scrap of paper, I realized something. Caesar was watching me.
I threw the paper away and snapped at him, *
"What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to go back to the dorm?"*
He finally stopped looking at me, his gaze shifting toward the front of the car. Then, very slowly, very calmly—*very* irritatingly—he said, *
"You should have thought about that. You're the expert."
*"What do you mean?"*
His tone was infuriatingly casual. *"You're the one who got us here. You're the one who wanted to do this. So I would think that you would have thought ahead about what you were going to do after."*
*"You ripped my dress."* I accused voice rising.
*"Well, you ruined my pants."* A shrug. *"So I guess we're even, then."*
*"I can't believe you. You're such an asshole!"*
*"Says the woman who just....."
"I *stared* at him." He ate the last of his sentence, the words hanging between us like a challenge.
He started pulling off his clothes—I mean, his shirt was off butt his pants were halfway there, and then he began taking them all off.
I snapped at him again, *"What the hell are you doing?"*
*"What does it look like I'm doing?"*
I just stared at him.
He gestured toward the river. *"I need to get this shit off me, so I'm gonna go have a little swim. Come on, you want to come with me?"*
I kept staring. *"Are you crazy? It's cold out there. That water must be freezing—there's no way I'm getting in."*
He shrugged. *"Well, suit yourself. But it'll get you clean. And it'll get your place down there to stop aching so much."*
*"How do you know that?"* My voice sharpened. *"I thought you stayed away from virgins. Like the plague."*
A smirk curled at the edge of his mouth. *"I know. But then…"* He spread his hands as if the answer were obvious. *"Here I am anyway. Just deflowered you, didn't I?"*