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“I-I-I...” I stutter, too far gone to form coherent thoughts, let alone respond to his demands. “I-I-I like being w-watched,” I finally manage to gasp, and the words somehow ring true.
“Louder,” Milo growls, his grip on my hip tightens. My breathing comes in short pants as Leone closes the distance between us, his hot breath ghosting over my neck.
“Tell me you like it when I watch,” Leone growls in my ear, his erection pressing against my stomach, making me wonder what it would feel like to have him drive his cock into me.
“I... I like... I like it when you watch,” I manage to get out between pants as Milo pushes even deeper inside -his thumb working my clit, making my whole body arch towards the sensation. “Oh, fuck!”
Milo chuckles darkly and kisses my ear, the vibration of his laughter sending shivers down my spine. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Beg me for more, bambina.”
“More,” I groan, the word barely audible as the pressure builds between my legs. “More.”
“So responsive. I could make you come right here, right now. Would you like that?”
Leone’s jaw clenches, none too happy that Milo is reducing me to a pile of needy, writhing mess. I can’t think straight anymore as the edge of my climax barrels down on me like a freight train. My nails dig into Milo’s muscular biceps as he drags me to the tip of that edge.
“Say you’re mine,” Milo growls, his voice laced with possessiveness.
“Mine,” Leone corrects, his voice cold as he grabs my hair, yanking me back to face him. Our eyes meet in the steamy mirror, and I see the fire burning there – desire and anger warring for dominance. “Both of ours,” he amends with a cruel smile.
Milo laughs, his smoky baritone sending shivers down my spine as I wriggle against him, arching into the touch of his fingers at the same time. He’s too close, heated, and wild. My blood is on fire as I sit on the brink of ecstasy as his fingers slow just before I hit the precipice. Leone’s gaze burns into me like a brand, demanding attention, yet his gaze only makes me hotter.
“That she is,” Milo replies.
But then he stops, stepping back right when I’m on the brink, leaving me glaring and gasping.
“No!” I gasp in frustration; my entire body feels like it has been jolted with a live wire, and I shove Milo for teasing me like that, earning a dark chuckle from him.
“Asshole!”
“If I have to think about you all night, you can damn well think about me,” he says, a wicked grin lighting up his face. Yet, I refuse to beg him to finish what he started now, instead letting my arousal fester into simmering anger as I step out of the shower.
“Wait there,” Leone orders as I snatch my towel off the sink basin, wrapping it around myself.
They finish their showers quickly, the silence heavy with unfulfilled desires. Dressing in sharp suits that only accentuate their predatory grace, Leone and Milo exude danger and allure in equal measure. I reach for my own clothes, only to be halted by Leone’s commanding tone.
“Bed. Now.” he orders.
The glint in Leone’s eyes is as cold and sharp as the handcuffs he dangles before me, a stark reminder of his mistrust. “You’re staying here,” he states flatly, his voice echoing in the opulent bedroom that is once again about to become my cage.
“Leone, please...” I begin, my voice laced with desperation. I’ve been in their thrall, tangled between fear and desire. But the thought of being left behind, cuffed and alone, stirs a panic deep within me, knowing Dante is lurking around here. “I’ll be good, I promise. I need to be there, to... to feel normal for just a moment.”
He regards me, his gaze assessing, and then looks at Milo, who shrugs, letting Leone decide. “Please, I’ll behave,” I plead. He ignores me, instead moving toward me with the handcuffs.
“You’re really going to leave me here with Dante until he leaves?” I spit at him, and he stops like he forgot his brother was here.
“Fine, but you try to run…” He doesn’t finish with his threat, but I can imagine what he would do if I tried it. I rush toward the wardrobe, only for him to grab my arm. “I will be watching your every move. You don’t want to provoke me,” he warns, and I nod.
THIRTY
FALLON
The air at the casino is thick with cigarette smoke and the clink of chips, a sound and smell that once felt like home. Now under the weight of watchful eyes, it feels foreign, dangerous. My former colleagues regard me with a mix of curiosity and disdain when they see me enter with Leone, their whispers cutting through the air like a knife, making me wonder why I wanted to come here. “There she is,” they murmur, “it seems the boss has a new plaything.”
Heat crawls up my cheeks as I find myself the center of unwanted attention. Marcus, my friend, my… I don’t know what we were—our eyes lock over the green baize of the blackjack table he deals. The look on his face, a blend of concern and something else, judgment maybe, twists my insides. I don’t want him, or anyone, thinking less of me for the situation I’m in—a situation I had no choice but to accept. Yet the girls here clearly think I am asking for favors and trading my body for it. One thing I have always hated here is how catty the girls could be, especially the dancers in the back rooms which is why I always refused to deal back there.
“Sit,” Leone commands when we reach his office, the office is decorated with dark wood and leather, exuding an air of wealth and power. A large, ornate desk sits in the center, shelves upon shelves of alcohol line the walls, and also expensive looking art. Leone points to the couch in the corner.
“Sit and don’t move,” he orders, with a huff I turn and fall onto the couch and glare at him.
