Page 160 of Dishonored

“She doesn’t let me do that—there’s no option for it.”

“How so?”

Because Aria was smart, and just as manipulative as he was on her worst days. The difference between him and her was that she could use her abilities for good whereas he had only used his for bad things.

She wouldn’t fuck him if he was angry—wouldn’t let him touch her beyond a kiss, or something just as innocent on the days he was sharp, and jagged like broken glass ready to cut someone who came too close. She wouldn’t let him take her when his moods were bleak, or worse, when he went into one of his spells with someone else.

She wouldn’t let him use her.

Not to feel better, or to redirect his need to hurt someone by doing something else with her. Not to distract himself, or even to divert her.

No, Aria was too good for that.

She forced Caesar to reevaluate, figure out another way to handle whatever the issue was, and then come back to her when it was good again. Never once did she allow him to use her sexually in lieu of that, though.

“Every moment of me and her is always just me and her,” Caesar said, unwilling to explain it much more than those words. “That’s how she wants this—that’s what I like. There’s no underlying shit to it; I’m not out for anything but what she’s giving me in that moment.”

Sure, they were still dirty.

They still fucked raw.

It was great.

But that’s all it was.

That, and love.

Amber nodded, and picked up her paper pad and pen again. “Good. Now, how’s work?”

Just like that, they were onto something else.

He glanced at the clock.

Five hours to go.

Five hours, and Aria was all his.

The murmurings in the pews of Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul quieted as Caesar and Cain stood at the end of the white satin aisle runner. Gazes—many of those they recognized; guests specially chosen for this day—turned on the two men, although they lingered more on Caesar.

He expected that—a new boss was always being sized up by those around him. Even if it was his fucking wedding day.

The church had been decorated in variances of white and soft lavender. Ropes of delicate tulle connected each pew with a bushel of white roses and purple lilacs holding it all together. He wasn’t one to notice decoration, but Aria had worked particularly hard on every little detail for this day, so he didn’t mind taking a moment to appreciate all her work.

Every bit of it.

“You ready?” Cain asked beside him.

Caesar nodded to his best friend. “Never been more ready, man.”

Cain’s large hand landed hard to Caesar’s back. “Let’s get this party started, then.”

The two headed up the aisle, and while Cain stopped to say hello to a scant few guests, Caesar didn’t once stop until he was standing on the bottom step of the altar. His friend joined his side just as the priest came out in all his white and golden robes to stand behind the two.

“How was your penance, Caesar?”

Caesar scowled.

Beside him, Cain smirked.