Eun-jae let out a sharp, choked gasp, his body tightening as the pleasure twisted into something unbearable. His mind went blank.
Caesar's movements slowed, his breathing heavy yet controlled, the sound of it filling the space between them. His fingers twitched as he stared down at Eun-jae, his lips parting slightly, his chest rising and falling in an almost measured rhythm. His hand dragged through his dark hair, pushing the damp strands back, before his sharp gaze zeroed in on Eun-jae's flushed chest.
A slow smirk curled the edges of his lips.
Without hesitation, he reached down, his palm pressing flat against the heaving expanse of skin, fingers spreading wide, feeling the rapid thump of Eun-jae's heartbeat beneath his touch.
"Mm," Caesar hummed, amusement thick in his voice. "Still so sensitive."
His hand flexed, gripping—testing.
Eun-jae jerked, his back arching at the sudden contact. A sharp gasp broke free from his lips, halfway between a breathless moan and a pained whimper.
"Nnghh—haah…"
Caesar chuckled, low, dark, knowing.
"You can't even hide it, can you?" His tone was dripping with amusement, taunting, provoking.
Eun-jae sucked in a shaky breath, fighting against the humiliation threatening to swallow him whole.
"Shut up," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
But Caesar wasn't listening.
His fingers moved.
Sliding up, trailing along the dip of Eun-jae's collarbone before finding their way back to his chest, fingertips brushing over the hardened peaks with deliberate slowness.
Eun-jae tensed.
Every single nerve in his body lit up.
And then—
Caesar pinched.
Eun-jae jerked violently, his thighs trembling, his breath escaping in a sharp, choked whimper.
Caesar's smirk widened.
"Wow." His voice was thick with mockery, his fingers rolling, twisting—watching with pure amusement as Eun-jae's body betrayed him yet again.
His free hand slid lower, fingers tracing the defined lines of Eun-jae's stomach, dragging across heated skin before coming back up—playing, testing, learning.
Caesar tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering between Eun-jae's face and his chest before murmuring,
"How slutty."
Eun-jae's breath hitched.
His eyes flew open, rage flickering behind the haze of pleasure, frustration, humiliation—
"You—"
Before he could even finish, before he could shove Caesar's hands away, before he could even take control of his own body again—
Caesar leaned down.
And sank his teeth in.
Heat.
The sudden warmth of Caesar's mouth against his skin made Eun-jae tremble.
His lips sealed over the hardened bud, hot and wet, tongue flicking, circling, teasing. The sensation sent a sharp shock through Eun-jae's body, his fingers twitching violently at his sides, his head snapping back against the pillows as a broken sound tore from his throat.
"Oh, fu—ahh—nghh!"
Caesar hummed, his tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth grazing, sucking. Slow and deep, pulling, dragging out every bit of reaction from Eun-jae's unwilling body.
Eun-jae couldn't stop it.
Couldn't stop the way his breath hitched, the way his back arched, the way his body moved toward the source of heat instead of away from it.
Caesar pulled back slightly, his tongue flicking one last time before his gaze drifted downward.
And then—he saw it.
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, his expression shifting from playful amusement to something darker, something more satisfied.
"Look at you," Caesar murmured.
Eun-jae froze.
His heart skipped a beat.
Because Caesar wasn't looking at his face anymore.
He was looking down.
At the undeniable evidence of his own betrayal.
Eun-jae's face ignited with heat, a deep, suffocating burn spreading across his cheeks, down his throat, everywhere.
Caesar's smirk stretched wider.
"Look how swollen you are down there," he whispered, his voice thick with mockery.
His fingers traced downwards, hovering just over Eun-jae's trembling stomach, the teasing pressure making him suck in a sharp, shaking breath.
Eun-jae squeezed his eyes shut.
No.
Not this.
Not again.
"This son of a bitch… if I had the strength, I'd kill him here and now."
Eun-jae's mind reeled, the thought coming in ragged, choppy bursts between the overwhelming waves of sensation. His teeth gritted, his fingers clenching the sheets beneath him so tightly his knuckles turned white. His body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out, but he refused—refused—to give in.
But Caesar?
Caesar was enjoying every damn second of it.
His hands were firm, unyielding, gripping Eun-jae's waist like he had every right to, like he was meant to hold him like this. His breath came in low, husky exhales, his golden-blond hair falling messily over his sweat-dampened forehead as he watched.
And then—
He moved.
Faster. Harder.
"Ahh—nnghh—sto—uaahh—hyaaa!"
Eun-jae's moan tore from his throat, raw and involuntary, his entire body jerking, his stomach tensing, convulsing with the impact.
And then—
SLAM.
The force rocked him, his abdomen visibly flexing, the muscles rippled with each merciless thrust. His back arched, his breath caught, his mind blanked.
One.
Two.
And then—
A deep, guttural groan.
"Aahh!!—mmmhmm!!"
Caesar's head tilted back slightly, a satisfied, husky groan spilling past his lips, his throat vibrating with it. His hand slid through his damp, tousled blonde hair, shoving it back from his face, before his dark, half-lidded gaze flickered down—
And locked onto Eun-jae.
A slow smirk stretched across his lips.
"C'mon, Eun-jae," his voice was deep, lazy, drenched in amusement. Mocking. Tempting. Dangerous.
"You've gotta squirm more than that."
His grip on Eun-jae's waist tightened, his fingers pressing so deep into his skin that there would be marks left behind—evidence, proof of his claim.
Caesar leaned down, his lips grazing just beside Eun-jae's ear, his breath hot, heavy, thick.
"I don't really feel like letting you go yet."
His voice was smooth, dripping with cruel amusement, and the sheer dominance of his tone sent a violent shiver down Eun-jae's spine.
His body betrayed him again.
A sharp, involuntary tremble.
Caesar felt it. Of course, he did.
And it only made his smirk widen.
"You felt that, didn't you?"
Eun-jae's breath hitched.
His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he desperately tried to ground himself—to fight against the humiliating wave of heat crawling up his skin.
"I hate you," Eun-jae rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with rage, desperation, and something else—something he refused to name.
Caesar only laughed.
Low. Dark. Smug.
Time had lost all meaning.
A day? A week? More?
Eun-jae no longer knew. Every second bled into the next, an endless cycle of exhaustion, pain, and suffocating helplessness. His body was no longer his own—it was something foreign, something battered and ruined beyond recognition. The ache in his limbs, the burning in his throat, the hollow pit where his strength used to be—it all merged into a single, oppressive weight pressing down on him, keeping him trapped.
He barely had the strength to think. His mind was a fragmented mess, desperately clinging to shreds of sanity, trying to piece together what was real and what was nightmare.
But then there was him.
Caesar.
A golden-haired devil lounging beside him, draped in the dim glow of the lamp. The faint flicker of light cast shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the smirk that never seemed to leave his lips. A cigarette burned between his fingers, a thin trail of smoke curling into the air, the scent thick and cloying. The way he exhaled was slow, indulgent—like he had all the time in the world.
Eun-jae wanted to move. To recoil. To disappear.
But his body refused him.
Every muscle ached, every breath felt like dragging in shards of glass. His throat—raw, ruined from screams that had long faded into silence—could barely muster a whisper. He lay there, helpless, waiting for whatever would come next.
Then Caesar turned his head.
Smirked.
"I know, I know..." His voice was smooth, like silk wrapped around steel, laced with something almost amused. "You have questions."
Eun-jae barely breathed. His ribs ached with every shallow inhale, but his mind screamed at him to listen. To stay present. To understand.
"Fine," Caesar continued, taking another slow drag from his cigarette before exhaling the smoke above them. "Let's make this fun. Ask whatever you want. I'll answer."
Eun-jae's heart pounded weakly against his ribs. His mind reeled, struggling to make sense of the offer. Caesar had never been generous. Never given without taking twice as much.
His hesitation must have been obvious, because Caesar chuckled—a low, rich sound that sent a shudder through Eun-jae's spine.
"Oh, don't be shy now." His hand moved before Eun-jae could react, long fingers threading through tangled strands of his dark hair, tucking them behind his ear with an almost gentle touch. A touch that sent ice through his veins.
Caesar leaned in, breath warm against his skin. "It would be such a shame for you to die without knowing the truth about Seraphim..." His voice dropped lower, teasing, dangerous. "Don't worry. I'll tell you."
Eun-jae's pulse stuttered.
Then—
"Seraphim doesn't even exist, honey."
The world tilted.
Eun-jae's breath hitched. His mind—exhausted, battered, barely holding on—scrambled for meaning, for logic, for anything that could make sense of those words.
No.
That wasn't possible.
His lips parted, but his voice was barely a rasp, barely human.
"What?"
His throat burned at the effort. The mere act of speaking sent another sharp throb through his ruined vocal cords, but the disbelief, the anger, pushed him to say it anyway.
Caesar only smirked deeper, watching him, relishing in his reaction.
"Bullshit," Eun-jae managed, his voice cracking. His head spun, his body screamed for rest, but he forced himself to stay awake, to understand. "Then what is Voron?"
Caesar chuckled, flicking the ash off his cigarette with lazy amusement.
"Where did you get that idea from?" he mused, shaking his head slightly. "Ah, that's right. You were the one who assumed Voron was the same as Seraphim. All because of that little conversation you overheard... The Vice President and Minister of Foreign Affairs, wasn't it?"
Eun-jae's stomach lurched. His head spun with the memory—fragmented and hazy, but still there. He remembered hearing that name—Voron—spoken with urgency, with weight. It had to mean something.
Had he been wrong?
Caesar's lips curled, wicked amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Voron is just a missile."
A cold, humorless laugh spilled from his lips. "God, you should see your face right now. I almost feel bad for you."
Eun-jae's breathing turned shallow. Frantic.
No, no, no.
"Okay, okay," Caesar sighed, waving a hand. "So, listen. Seraphim? It failed a long time ago. There were... complications. Let's just say it ended up being a massive waste of money and resources."
Eun-jae clenched his fists weakly against the sheets, nails digging into his palms.
"But hey," Caesar continued with a smirk, "I guess it wasn't a total waste. The rumors spread like wildfire about this 'super weapon.'" He grinned. "As soon as Korea and Canada got wind of it, they sent their best little agents to hunt for it. One's already dead, and the other?"
He leaned in closer, lips brushing against Eun-jae's ear.
"Is you."
Eun-jae's entire body went cold.
Silence pressed down on him. His mind screamed, rejecting the words Caesar had just spoken.
No.
It wasn't possible.
Everything he had suffered for, fought for, bled for—
Was for nothing?
His stomach twisted violently.
He felt sick.
Caesar let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he exhaled another stream of smoke.
"Fools," he muttered under his breath. Then—before Eun-jae could react—his palm smacked against the curve of his ass, hard enough to make him jolt.
A strangled gasp tore from Eun-jae's lips.
His body reacted instinctively—flinching, trembling—but he had no strength left to fight back.
Caesar grinned at the reaction, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
"You really thought you were onto something, didn't you?"
Eun-jae's breath shuddered, his entire world crumbling beneath him.
Seraphim... didn't exist.
Everything he had endured...
Everything he had sacrificed...
Was for nothing.
The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating, unbearable.
And yet, deep inside, beneath the haze of despair and exhaustion, something dark and simmering began to stir.
A spark.
Faint, but there.
He would make Caesar pay.