After their meal, Cristiano disappeared for several mysterious hours.

Doing what?

She refused to obsess over him for another second. Rosa took advantage of his absence to complete some of her own errands. Rosa was accompanied by Cristiano's men, of course, but she took care to hide her real agenda behind the façade of a shopping spree with plenty of restroom breaks in between, slipping away in brief five to ten minute intervals to finish what she actually set out to do.

She picked up her passport inside the dressing room of Chanel.

She received her birth certificate in the restroom of a local café.

Her bodyguards seemed none the wiser.

They returned her to the motel around midnight and took their leave. The moment Rosa stepped through the front door, she found Cristiano already sitting on the bed. Devil-black eyes locked on to her.

"I have been waiting for you," he said quietly.

"You were?"

He turned toward her with a knowing expression. "Did you have fun on your outing?"

With a playful twirl, she showed off her numerous bags bearing the logo for Gucci and Chanel. "Mais bien sûr."

But of course.

Hidden inside her purchases were Eve Davies' passport and birth certificate.

Watching her with an inscrutable expression, he remarked, "I am relieved that you returned... safely."

She scoffed. "Did you think I would disappear into an unmarked vehicle again?"

"Do not joke about something so serious. I have probably lost ten of my life worrying about you these past few weeks."

Rosa teased him again, "Only ten?"

His jaw ticked. "If anyone takes you from me again, I will find you. Mark my words. I will always find you."

Anyone—

Including her?

Rosa's shoulders tensed up. As always, something in his countenance suggested that Cristiano knew more than he let on. For some reason, she felt exposed. Maybe his guards weren't as oblivious as she thought.

Did Cristiano already guess what she was planning to do?

In an attempt to deflect his suspicion, she murmured coyly, "You know what your problem is, mon beau?"

"What?"

"Your brain worries too much," Rosa scolded. "Sometimes, you need to let your blood flow... elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" he echoed.

She nodded.

Smiling like a fox, Rosa resolved, right then and there, that she would fuck him senseless and then make her escape after he passed out.

Rosa went to him, shedding clothing along the way. Shirt. Bra. Pants. Underwear. His dark eyes remained fixated on her. Her heart started beating like crazy. She climbed onto the mattress. Cristiano drew her to his chest. He was already naked in bed. Instinctively, she straddled him, skin to skin, sex to sex, allowing the soft folds of her pussy to cradle his hardening cock.

Devil-black eyes flickered as he gazed up at her. "Dio..."

With a sensual roll of her hips, Rosa glided over him, using the slickness of her slit to tease his throbbing length. "I am not your god, mon beau."

He became solid as stone within the same second. His fingers grew desperate as they dug into her waist. Cristiano pulled her away from his cock to his face. Breath caught, she gazed down at him in anticipation.

Anchoring her cunt to his mouth, Cristiano groaned, "But I will worship you, nonetheless."

With these words, the bastard didn't lie. His lips immediately consumed her lips, reveling in every fold and every crease with nipping, suckling kisses. Rosa moaned with desire as she melted into pieces. "Fuck, I hate how much I still want you."

In spite of everything that the bastard had done to deceive her, technically, he hadn't betrayed her. Cristiano was guilty for a crime he had yet to commit.

The will he? and won't he? kept Rosa's sanity dangling by a thread.

"Stop resisting, quit hovering, and sit the fuck down so I can worship your cunt. Nothing is more beautiful than the sight of you losing control," Cristiano continued, smiling against her pussy, "because of me. I cannot wait to hear you scream my name."

Eyes round, Rosa sucked in a sharp breath as he wrenched her lips to his lips, slamming their warm, wet flesh together. Her pussy crushed his face. Heat flooded her senses. Cristiano proceeded to adore her clit with his swirling tongue, flicking the nub, sucking on it, until he wrung wave after wave of pleasure from her breathless, panting body.

His name was wrung from her very core, "Oh, fuck! Cristiano, Cristiano, Cristiano..."

"That is my good fucking girl. Scream louder. So everyone knows owns this pussy."

Wetness gushed down her thighs. She fell slack, boneless and weak from her climax. He licked her clean while she tried to regain her bearings. "God, that was so intense, I can't—"

"The night is young," he growled, holding her in place, "and I have barely begun."

She refused to let him have his way with her for the rest of the night. It was time to wrestle back her control.

"You have had your fun, mon beau," Rosa challenged softly, "now it is my turn."

"What do you intend to do?"

She moved away from Cristiano's face and scooted back down toward his hips. "Fuck you senseless, of course."

Indeed, she'd ride him into a blacked-out stupor and then make her getaway while he slept.

Cristiano's breaths quickened as Rosa spread her thighs over his lap and sank down, swallowing his thick, eager cock with her tight, glistening cunt, and began to ride him. Her hips teased and circled with a whore's precision, keeping their rhythm achingly slow. Just to torment him.

In time, wild desperation flooded his face. Cristiano grabbed her hips and, without warning, started pummeling her pussy with faster, far more punishing thrusts. Rosa cried out in pleasure and in pain. To retaliate, she reached behind them to grab him by the balls.

"Non, non, mon beau. Like I said, you have had your fun with me for far too long."

She was no longer talking about him fucking her. There were deeper meanings tucked within her not-so-playful threat: I know you have been planning to use me from the very beginning.

Rosa chided as though he was a naughty schoolboy, giving the heavy, swollen pair a painful squeeze, "From now on, we do things my way."

Translation?

I will not sit idly by and let you get away with murder.

His handsome face contorted with discomfort, "Fuck."

She purred, "Or else I will bury you."

If you try to fuck me over, I will not hesitate fuck you back.

Dark eyes sharpened with understanding. For a moment, Cristiano slowed his breakneck pace, letting her take the lead once more. He reached between her legs to pinch her clit, demanding urgently, "You think I mean to harm you?"

Grinding herself into his hand, she moaned softly, "Who knows?"

His expression turned to stone. It was clear her reply displeased him, but he said nothing more. He let his body express his anguish. Roughly, Cristiano tossed Rosa from his lap and shoved her onto all fours. He rose to his knees, mounting her from behind. With both hands anchored on her hips, Cristiano fucked her even harder than before until she was whimpering, gasping, and writhing with her flushed face crushed against the mattress.

He pumped himself back inside her with several sinful thrusts, stretching her wide with his thick, pulsing shaft. Cristiano spat at her, "Cold-blooded creature."

She grunted as he pulled out to the tip, "Takes one to know one."

"All I know is that I have gone to war with myself," Cristiano panted, "from the night we met. Never doubt the blood I would spill. Just to see you smile."

"Why torture yourself over little, old me?"

"Because you have become my heaven and hell."

"How fucking poetic." She fired back in mocking tones, "What will you say next? That you love me?"

"You know I do not believe in love," he groaned as her pussy swallowed him whole once more, "but I believe in you and me, so I will protect what we have until I am a fucking corpse."

Rosa hadn't been expecting him to answer in such a way. It was darkly... romantique. Even if his words were false, they still tore at her heart. An unexpected ache hit the back of her eyes. "Fuck you, mon beau."

Still thrusting, Cristiano chuckled darkly and slapped her ass. "Baby, you are fucking me."

Smartass.

She smiled in spite of herself. "Touché, you bastard."

Fire sparked in her eyes. Desire burned as well. Rosa's hips snapped and rolled with renewed force, fucking him back with so much momentum that his swinging balls slapped her pussy. Until neither of them could form any more words. They fucked like animals into the dead of night. Straining for power. Fighting for dominance. Using their bodies to express what their hearts withheld, they fucked until Rosa no longer knew where Cristiano's pleasure ended and hers ignited. They fucked until their skin grew slick with sweat and exhaustion overcame their lust.

Cristiano spooned Rosa in the afterglow, clutching on to her tightly as though she might vanish if he loosened his hold. He already suspected her. This much she knew.

Rosa waited until his breathing grew slow with deep slumber before slipping out of bed. She gathered her belongings, slid her gun into its holster, and crept toward the door with silent footsteps.

Right as her fingers were about to close around the doorknob, a solid, muscled arm snaked around her waist. Rosa inhaled a sharp gasp.

Putain.

The bastard was supposed to be passed the fuck out!

He cradled her against his larger frame like a lover but demanded in low, harsh tones, "Where are you going?"

"Out."

He urged gently, "I would prefer if you stay."

"I will be right back. I need to pick up some," Rosa racked her brain for a semi-convincing reason, coughing, "cold medicine."

"You are sick?"

She coughed again. "Oui."

He stated the obvious, "You were fine earlier."

When they were fucking like animals.

"Well, I am not fine anymore."

"Then let me go with you," Cristiano murmured, eyeing her suitcase, "and leave that behind."

Shit.

The jig was up.

But Rosa refused to retreat. It was now or never. She needed to leave this motel right fucking now. "Non, there is no need. I was having trouble sleeping, anyway. A trip to the store might help clear my mind."

"Do not go. Per favore."

Rosa insisted, "I promise I will be back in thirty minutes."

Or thirty years.

He held her gaze through narrowed eyes. Suspense hung in the air. At this very moment, everything that they had left unresolved over the past few weeks came barreling to the surface.

Cristiano's eyes darted to the holster peeking out from under her jacket. In a calm, collected voice, he observed, "You are armed."

She shrugged. "I have been taken against my will—twice—since I met you. A bitch cannot carry too many bullets nowadays."

"Give me the gun, Rosa."

"I do not think that would be in my best interest."

He arched his eyebrow. "I disagree."

Anxiety nipped at her heels. Her time was running out. She needed to get her ass to London, and he was standing in her way.

Fuck this shit.

There was little need to keep up pretenses at this point. Rosa pulled out her Beretta and got straight to the goddamn point, "I apologize for being so heavy handed, but you should not have been such a two-faced bastard. Now get out of my way. Or else."

Despite the loaded firearm aimed at his face, he didn't bat an eye. "What are you talking about?"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Do not play dumb. It does not suit you, smartass. We both know you were planning to send my ass back to Mesrine from the very beginning."

An array of emotions danced across his face. She studied them closely.

Resignation.

Concern.

Remorse.

Cristiano denied nothing when he asked, "When did you find out?"

Rosa's throat constricted. "During my stay with Mrs. Vitale."

Fearlessly, he glared back at the barrel of her gun. "Well, if you already know the truth, then I will not deny it."

She glowered in his direction. Relief battled with rage.

It was true.

It was true.

It was all fucking true.

Rosa's heart dropped to her stomach. Before she could react, however, Cristiano's right hand shot out in a burst of unexpected speed. He tore the weapon from her grasp and, using his left hand, pinned her arms behind her back. Rosa gasped in shock as he hauled her to his chest. Struggling against him, she hissed over her shoulder, "Are you planning to fuck me over?"

To her surprise, Cristiano clicked on the safety. Then, he trailed the gun down her collarbone. "No, I only want to fuck you."

Would be smart or stupid to play along until she found an opportunity to grab her gun back?

Rosa closed her eyes as Cristiano started massaging her nipple with the tip of her Beretta. "I do not believe you."

"It is unbelievable," he agreed. "Instinct screams at me to follow my original plan. You were meant to be part of the... negotiation. An asset to be traded for something else I wanted. At this point, it only creates more problems to keep you around."

"I fucking hate you."

"As you should."

He traced the Beretta down the curves of her waist. Rosa's breaths quickened when he lodged the barrel between her thighs. She couldn't help but rub her clit against the hard, smooth metal. Even through the lace of her panties, the friction felt divine. A wicked, depraved heat flared within her.

His fingers slid the crotch of her panties out of the way. The cold steel kissed her lips. Utterly enthralled, she whispered, "What are you doing, mon beau?"

Cristiano claimed he wouldn't fuck her over. The bastard claimed he only wanted to fuck her.

As though to prove his point, he pushed the tip of the barrel inside her.

"Bordel de merde," Rosa cursed at the sudden invasion.

He pressed his mouth to her neck. "Should I... stop?"

Rosa hardly recognized her own voice when she answered, "Non."

The barrel slid inside her. Fully. Not quite as thick or as long as his cock, but, merde, it felt good. With a sinfully rhythmic push and pull, he began to fuck her with her own Beretta. "Have you ever toiled over something for your whole life?"

She could hardly comprehend his words. A burst of twisted, perverse euphoria surged through her veins. The desire was laced with danger. He continued, "Only to realize you cannot give up the one thing that will help you achieve your goal at the very last minute?"

Eyes widening, Rosa realized that he was talking about her. Her hips began to snap in time to every thrust of his arm. He adjusted his wrist, angling the barrel of the weapon along her upper walls, hitting the perfect, sweet spot over and over again.

She whimpered and writhed, "What about your sister and niece?"

He shoved the barrel even deeper, fucking her harder while his thumb slid over her clit, flicking the nub back and forth until her senses ran wild. "I will find another way to save them."

Rosa's golden eyes spun to the heavens even though what they were doing together would probably send her straight to hell. Her tits bounced alongside the force of his thrusts. In time, he relaxed his grip on her arms. While fucking her with his left hand, Cristiano reached over with his right one to caress her nipples. Pleasure rose and coiled all over her body. He was wreaking pure mayhem with this onslaught of sensory overload. Rosa was close, just a little more would push her over the edge.

Breathless and flushed, she released a choked gasp, "How do I know... you are not lying... to... me?"

The Beretta pumped inside her once more. But only halfway, He was teasing her, taunting her, refusing to give her what she truly, desperately needed. "It is up to you to decide whether or not to believe me."

Out.

In a little more.

Out again.

Then, in, in, in—all the way.

Cristiano's large muscled body caged Rosa, closer than ever, while he rained hot, adoring kisses along her bare neck. With the gun rammed in her cunt, Rosa felt wholly obscene and completely overwhelmed and yet, the way Cristiano stared at her, as though his world might crumble if she left him, made her feel so fucking powerful.

At this moment, he could've easily overtaken her. He held back, though. For some unknown reason, the bastard was willingly placing himself at her mercy.

"I am yours, Rosa," he whispered. "Do not forsake me. Per favore. Believe me."

A cry fell from lips when her climax finally hit.

Rosa shattered in his arms. Her body would've toppled to the floor if he hadn't held her upright. Once recovered, Rosa turned to look at him.

Really look at him.

In low, dangerous tones, she inquired, "What happens now?"

His devil-black eyes bore into her. "You tell me."

"If I try to step out the door, will you stop me?"

"That is what I am trying to decide."

"At least, now, you are honest."

"Give me a little more credit. I just made you come your brains out."

"With my own fucking gun, no less," she quipped.

He gave her a rueful smile. "See? If I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already. You do not have to go anywhere. You are safe with me, Rosa."

Maybe.

Maybe not.

She couldn't gamble her life on such uncertainty. Her eyes turned to steel. "Let it be known, you are everything I have ever wanted in a man—"

"But?"

Rosa leaned over to kiss him. He groaned, kissing her back like a starved beast being gifted a once-in-a-lifetime feast. Reaching downward, Rosa fondled his cock. Cristiano grunted in pleasure. Her fingers curled around the solid length, twisting, teasing, tugging. It soon grew harder than stone.

Then, with no word of warning, she kneed him between the legs to snatch her gun back. He grunted again in a completely different way, doubling over in pain. Taking several steps back, Rosa distanced herself from Cristiano in case he tried to attack her, re-aiming the barrel at him. "I am sorry, mon beau. No matter how much I care for you, I am a selfish bitch at heart. I must choose myself over you."

Again, to her shock, Cristiano made no move to stop her. He simply watched with an expression of eerily calm acceptance as Rosa tilted her wrist slightly to the right. To readjust her aim. The whole time, their eyes were riveted on each other. Devil-black seared amber gold. Rosa's hand tightened around the grip of her Beretta. The safety switch unlocked. He didn't even flinch when she pulled the trigger.

I will let you put a bullet in me if that is what your heart desires.

True to his word, he let her bullet pass straight through him.