Gripping his hair, I leaned back on my elbows and met his gaze as I watched him go to town on my pussy.
I loved it.
I hated it.
It was so confusing.
I knew this was all a game. But somehow, it didn't feel like one when I was with Stefan. He put me at ease, allowed me to relax, and let go. I thought about the other night when he stood on the balcony and screamed with me. When he let me talk and work out my issues. It was as easy as breathing with him. It was like that with Nico, too, but different.
"Stefan," I moaned and then rocked my hips to feel more of his tongue going deeper inside me.
On the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, I let go. A tiny smirk tugged at Stefan's mouth as he feasted on me. I'd never been with a man who cared about satisfying me.
He glanced up at me, the warmth from his breath intensifying the orgasm sweeping through me. Every fiber of my body ignited as I reached the peak of my climax, his name spilling out of my mouth.
Stefan wiped my cum from his lips. "Fuck, you taste good. Wait until my brothers get a hold of you." He pressed his palms to the desk and got up from the chair, hovering over me. His lips brushed mine, and electric sparks shot down my arms. "We're going to ruin you. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
My heart raced at his confession.
I reminded myself they were not good men, and I was only here because they wanted to prove my father's guilt. But I didn't understand why they thought they could get me to turn on my flesh and blood. Dad was a lot of things and wasn't all that great of a father most of the time. But he was the only family I had.
Stefan reached between us to unbuckle his belt, his lips inches from mine. "You belong to the Boardwalk Kings, Miss Vianello." He pulled out his very long and hard cock, stroking himself. "So spread those legs nice and wide for me."
He acted so much like Nico, the nice brother. And now, I wondered if Nico was acting, too. Were all of their niceties and fancy clothes just another thing to blind me from reality? Was I too caught up in how they made me feel not to see what was right in front of me?
The tip of his cock grazed my wet slit as his eyes met mine. He was hesitating.
Maybe to see if I would stop him.
To test my limits?
I didn't know or care.
Because despite my inner feminist screaming this was wrong, I gave him the green light and nodded. If I wanted them to trust me, this was how to do it. I had to let them in before they would lower their guards and stop looking at me like the enemy.
Stefan's thick cock pushed into me, just the tip, and a whimper slipped past my lips.
It felt good.
Too fucking good.
But before he could get any further, someone banged on the door.
"Fuck," he grunted, and then yelled, “Get lost!”
"Jonny Z is here,” a man shouted through the closed door. “Says it's urgent."
Stefan tucked himself back into his pants and opened the door. “Put him in the red room. I’ll be there in five.”
I slid off the desk and fixed my skirt back into place, watching Stefan as he tugged at the ends of his hair. He locked the door and crossed the right side of the room. Stefan moved a painting on the wall to the side, revealing a built-in safe.
Without a word, he pressed his thumb to the scanner on the safe and entered several numbers into the keypad. The door clicked open, and he sifted through the contents, most of which I couldn't see. It looked like stacks of money, maybe a few pieces of jewelry, and folders.
Stefan grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed handfuls of wrapped bills into it. Then he sealed the safe shut and put the picture back into place.
Staring at me with a devious grin, he handed me the bag. "Go see Angelo. He's waiting for you."
I took the bag from him, which was heavier than I expected. "So that's it?"