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Chiara runs her fingers up and down the straps of my gun holster. “I don’t know about the mustache, but this is pretty sexy.”
“Oh, yes?” I say, enjoying the expression on her face. My cock stirs in my pants. Her wig is interesting, too. The dark hair gives her a bad-girl appearance. She seems to think so, too, as she runs her forefinger down the buttons of my shirt.
“Detective Bartlett, is there anything I can help you with?”
Salvatore looks up from scowling at the box of hair dye and throws it aside. He strides toward Chiara, scoops her up in his arms and carries her over to the bed. “Yes, there is. I’m tired of thinking about this mission. Let’s get back to the fun mission.”
“Which is?” Chiara asks.
Salvatore grins as he loosens his tie. “Getting you pregnant.”
12
Chiara
Salvatore looms over me as he takes off his clothes, his gaze sharp and hungry as I wriggle out of my own.
“Are you getting in on this?” he asks Vinicius over his shoulder.
Vinicius lays along the bed with his head propped against his palm, a smile on his lips. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just watch for the moment.”
Salvatore cups my jaw and purrs, “Oh, I enjoy an audience. Shall we show off for him, baby?”
“I love to show off,” I say, reaching between my legs to drag the wetness from my pussy up over my clit, enjoying both men watching me do it.
Salvatore grasps my legs, pushes them wider, and spits on my pussy. I moan as it trickles down.
He looks up sharply and his lips curve into a vicious smile. “You like that? Open your mouth.”
I do as he asks and he leans over me and spits in my mouth. My eyes open wide, and then he slams two fingers into me as I swallow him down.
“You dirty bitch.” Before I can answer, he grabs my throat and squeezes. Hard. He’s the Salvatore I encountered on my seventeenth birthday, hard expression and eyes glittering with wickedness.
I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
I’ll happily be his dirty bitch.
Still squeezing my throat, he walks his knees up the bed and grasps his cock, sinking into me.
“Salvatore,” I manage to gasp around the tight grip he has on my throat.
“Yes, baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with fake sweetness.
“Hit me.”
He shoots me a look of molten desire and lets go of my throat, slapping me across the face.
Hard.
Leaving me gasping.
My head snaps to the side and my eyes water. Heat burns right through me and condenses in my clit.
“Salvatore, for fuck’s sake,” Vinicius exclaims.
“What? She likes it. Don’t you, baby?” His voice is full of sweetness again and he draws my face back to his and kisses me.
I’ll show him how much I love it. I grasp his wrist and run my nails down his muscled forearm as he pushes his thumb into my mouth. I suck on it, closing my eyes and enjoying the burn in my cheek.
