I wasn’t hungry when I ordered it, my stomach too knotted up watching that motherfucker touch what’s mine to think about food, but as the scent of the steak and fancy chips hits my nose, my mouth waters and my stomach growls.
With them distracted by their own food, I pick up my cutlery and dive in.
“Fuck,” I groan when the steak practically melts in my mouth. The only thing that could possibly make this better would be if she were sitting opposite me in that sinful dress.
“How is everything, Mr. Cirillo?” Raoul asks, seemingly making it his sole job tonight to ensure I’m happy.
I get it. Having me here could be make or break for him.
“Fantastic, just as promised. Listen, Raoul, I need a favour.”
“Anything, sir,” he agrees happily before listening intently to my plan.
* * *
It doesn’t escape my attention that Brianna nurses the same glass of champagne throughout the whole meal. And while I might like the fact that she’s not getting wasted and is instead keeping her wits about her, her lack of visits to the bathroom is seriously hindering my plan.
Needing something to sate my twisted desire for her, I find the next part of the video and hit send.
Her bag is resting on her thighs, and the second the message is delivered, her spine straightens.
It’s all I need to feed that beast inside me.
The bellend is busy talking, probably about his boring little life. He’s so lost in his bullshit story that he hasn’t noticed that Brianna isn’t paying attention, and he also doesn’t notice when she pulls her phone out and focuses on that instead.
She sucks in a sharp breath as she watches me rail her from behind. She had no idea, but she was staring almost right at the camera with my fingers fisting her hair.
My cock jerks as she continues watching, and I can’t help myself but to up the ante.
Nico: You’re getting wet watching us together, aren’t you, Siren?
25
BRIANNA
My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my toes as I stare down at his words.
He’s not fucking wrong, though.
Those videos. They were… Hot. Wrong. Forbidden.
Did I mention hot?
Us together might be all kinds of disastrous, but there is no denying that we look fucking good. If his mafia life weren’t to work out and I lose my job over all this bullshit, we could definitely get into porn.
My hands tremble with my need to reply.
His messages are the single most exciting thing that has happened since I opened that shoe box back in my flat.
Obviously, the food has been incredible. Beyond incredible. It should be really, considering the astronomical prices.
Thank fuck Brad earns an eyewatering amount of money or I’d have a serious issue allowing him to treat me to something like this.
I’m mostly a simple girl, and I’m more than happy with a date that consists of a movie and Pizza Hut as long as what comes after is mind-blowing.
I glance up, finding him still talking about something to do with… something.
Honestly, I’ve barely listened to a word he’s said tonight—not that he’s noticed, or cares.