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Minimal. Right. I intend to taste every part of her while she sleeps, so she can wake covered in my touch without ever realizing it.
Angel groans, and his hot seed splatters across her pale breasts and stomach, dribbling down the sides of her body.
“But I can’t promise how long I can control my men with such a delectable treasure,” Victor says. “So you’d better think quick and answer quicker. I’d hate to leave them in a room with her without any instructions to leave her alone…”
He stops talking, and I don’t know whether the camera has stopped recording. I only know that I love the taste of her on my tongue, and Angel is busy rubbing his cum into her skin like he’s claiming her.
I lick and lick, finding that little clit of hers and lapping at it, then I suck on it. Her body jerks, and I grin to myself. Oh yeah. She doesn’t stand a chance.
Her body is loving this even if she’ll hate it when she wakes up.
Hate us, too, but it’s not like any of us give a fuck how she feels about us. She’s just a toy to play with until we get what we want—and as much as I really do want to feel that tight cunt around my cock, I’m sure Giorgis will give in for the sake of his daughter. He’s already seen what we’re willing to do on a short leash. Does he really want to find out what we would do if Victor set us free?
I realize Victor’s still talking after a moment, giving instructions on how to reach us, just in time for Lucia’s body to quiver all over and jerk as a climax sweeps over her unconscious form.
I groan, sliding my own hand into my pants and starting to furiously rub one out. I don’t often get to live out my dreams—it’s not like most people would let me drug them and fuck them, and besides… It’s more fun if they don’t know about it.
It isn’t long before I come into my hand. I pull my hand out from my pants and yank the underwear out of her mouth, only to smear my cum all over her nose and mouth. She’ll wake up smelling me, tasting me, knowing I was there to claim my territory.
And I can’t wait.
“That’s enough,” Victor said, sounding bored. “When you’re done cutting the footage together, you’ll email it to him, Santino.”
Victor’s about the only guy who calls me Santino. I’ve told him multiple times over the past several years to call me Saint, but he “doesn’t do nicknames.”
I use Lucia’s lacy panties to wipe myself clean and tuck myself back in. I catch Angel staring for a few seconds and I scowl at him, but if he notices, he doesn’t react. I don’t want to raise a stink in front of Victor, so I force myself to ignore him. Thankfully he goes to the nearby bathroom, meaning he’s helpfully out of sight.
I turn my attention back to Victor. “I do more than justemail, Victor. Data encryption, anonymizing our IP, setting up—”
“Yes, yes, whatever.” Victor waves his hand dismissively. “I trust you to do it well. I want it to be the first thing Bellini sees when he checks his email tomorrow morning.”
The first thing? Unlikely, given just how much email people get in general. I can time it to arrive around the time he usually checks his messages, but Giorgis’s paranoia rivals Victor’s, so he varies up his routine all the time. I’d love to be able to hack into his private email, but whichever tech guy he’s got on staff knows his stuff.
Angel returns, his hair back in place and clothes unruffled. “Where do you want her?” He starts to undo the straps around her wrists.
“Can’t we just leave her? Give her a nice scare when she wakes up?” I’m imagining her struggles when she wakes up bound to the chair, completely helpless. God, that would be so hot. I want to be there to hear her scream.
“No, we want to be able to return her relatively unharmed.” Victor motions toward one of the smaller rooms in the basement. “I had that one prepared for her. And put her clothes back on her.”
“Uh…” Angel looks at the panties I’m still holding. They’re mostly intact, but her bra sure isn’t.
I make a face but put the panties back on her. They’re wet, partially from where she was wet before and partially from them being shoved into her mouth—and from where I got myself nice and clean. I still get a not-so-secret little thrill from knowing she’ll wake up covered in cum.
Victor might’ve told us to dress her, but he didn’t say anything about cleaning her up—and I’m sure as hell not going to suggest it. Angel won’t either. We both want her to wake up crusted in our seed, wondering what the hell had been done to her.
I lick my lips. I want to see it when it happens. I want to be there when it happens.
It doesn’t matter. I have cameras in all the rooms, and I’ll be able to not only watch, but save it for my spank bank for later on. It won’t be as good as being there, but it’s a good second best.
I grab her pants and work those up her thighs, running my hands along her smooth skin as I cover it up. She obviously takes good care of her body; between the lean muscles and the way I don’t even feel any stubble beneath my touch. I don’t button up her jeans, though.
Angel starts to unfasten the restraints around her wrists and waist, and I half-hope she’ll wake up anyway. It would be even better than her waking up bound, and she’d be too groggy and disoriented to fight us much. Even if she did, she couldn’t do much.
But Victor wants her in the other room, so like a good soldier, I help Angel get the sweatshirt back on her. He sees the unfastened pants and snickers, and we exchange a quick smirk before Angel picks her up.
I follow him into the other room, wrinkling my nose. It’s cold and dank down here, and the only thing in the room is a thin mattress in the middle of the floor. It won’t really be that much more pleasant to wake up here than in the bondage chair, but Victor makes the rules.
Angel sets her down in the middle of it, running his finger along her lips. “I’d love to fuck this mouth,” he says with a groan.
