Chapter Nine
One. Two. Three loops.
Tightly drawn leather gave and a rush of cool air replaced her body heat. But all she could focus on was the hard cock pressing between her legs and how her pussy clenched with greed.
Her chest shook with fear that probably looked like excitement to men like these. Oh God, what if they discovered the folded papers she stole? Her phone. Then they really would kill her. And not with stolen orgasms.
Another flick and the sides parted to reveal her full heavy breasts and just how aroused they had her.
“Don’t be scared,” Matteo soothed her softly.
Who was he kidding! Instinct had kept her out of a lot of trouble through her teenage years and later in college. In high school, it was a rowdy best friend that had no respect for the law, and in college, it had been a duo of male teachers that liked to drug and rape students. She’d listened to her inner voice in both, found a new best friend, and saved her roommate from a very bad fate.
Right this second, her instincts screamed she had everything to fear and her heart and eyes fed her the same story.
“Fuck, they look just as fuckable as her pussy, don’t they, Vastyan.” Matteo rolled the last bit of his friend's name over his tongue like smooth vodka.
This close and the flash of warning instinct drilled into her head went unheeded.
He’s a killer. A crime lord. The devil in human flesh who will use you and then sell you to the highest bidder.
All the rumors she’d heard carry over the club between employees and clients alike popped in her head like bullets to the brain. Why the hell did she think she could play detective? Or pull off a sex-kitten routine? Maybe her friend was right. Maybe she would get herself killed after all. Wolves ate kittens for breakfast.
She breathed heavily, lips parted, eyes volleying between them. She watched as each of the men licked theirs, the bottom of the bodice holding tight around her concealed loot. For now.
Cold steel traced the sensitive edges of one nipple making the tip pucker around the metal bar piercing. Then Sevastyan repeated his torture to the other and she arched off the table, instant liquid pooling between her thighs. The thong cradled between her wet folds wouldn’t stand a chance in catching the amount of heat her core spilled.
She gasped. “Please,” she begged. For release, for them to give her all the forbidden promises they dropped between them, to let her go. She didn’t know. Just anything to make the ache between her legs stop.
The corners of Matteo’s mouth tipped up. “So responsive. What did I tell you?” Matteo traced the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip where a drop of his cum spilled.
“Open.”
She wrapped her lips around the roughed pad of his thumb, their eyes locked on one another.
“Good girl,” he purred close to her ear. “Please what? Tell us why we should give you what you want when you deny us the truth of why you're in our offices?”
Sevastyan’s intoxicating scent captured the last of her functioning senses and she couldn’t catch her breath from fear of begging him— both of them—to fuck her already.
“I think we should punish you.”
She shook her head. “No. No. I’ll tell you.”
The truth. Keep it close to the real deal. She could do that.
“I only wanted to see for myself, Mr. Volkov.” A warm smile curled her lips, and she hoped he didn’t hear the shiver in her words.
She shrugged a single shoulder, which brought his eye to her breasts. Light glinted off the metal adorning her nipples and he reached out giving them both a tug. Not too hard, but the man understood how to tread the line between pain and pleasure.
“Arh!” She fought the moan but he pulled it from her with so little ease.
“See what?”
Between them, his erection, long, thick, and impossibly hard, pressed against her through the thin material of his slacks. He growled low in his throat.
Her eyes closed, but Matteo gave her head a light shake forcing her to focus.
“After so many nights of seeing you on the floor. Watching you. All of you. I grew curious, Mr. Volkov.” Her words came clipped, rushed.