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Angelo laughs, but he doesn’t stop the inexorable slide into me. He bottoms out then starts to slowly thrust, moaning as he grips me just a little more tightly.
“Careful,” I hiss. “You’re going to leave bruises.”
“Okay, so I’ll just drop you,” Angelo retorts.
I let out a disgusted sound, but he relaxes his grip just a little before he starts to move inside of me. It’s excruciating, as I’m on the edge of pleasure but the precipice of discomfort, too, feeling bizarre and blushing at the mere idea of how this has to look. I’m never agreeing to this again.
The only plus side is that it doesn’t take Angelo long to come. He spills into the condom inside of me in only a few minutes, obviously worked up by watching Saint fuck me, and he groans. He lets go, and Saint stumbles but keeps me from falling down.
And of course, I don’t get to come.
“C’mere, kitten,” Saint says though, leading me toward the bed. He pushes me down and spreads my legs, his mouth finding my cunt and his tongue delving inside of me as he eats me out in earnest.
It’s hard to be angry or irritated with either of them with Saint’s tongue so expertly teasing me, running along my folds and finding the perfect places to flick his tongue ring against.
Angelo joins us, sitting next to me before leaning down to kiss me while Saint works his magic. Finally, I feel a little gratified, a little less like a toy, as the two of them focus on me.
Angelo’s fingers seek out my nipples and play with them, pinching and stroking in turn, and I sigh against his lips. I hook one foot over Saint’s shoulder and urge him a little closer, and he complies, redoubling his efforts.
I’m not sure how long they’re at it before I finally succumb to pleasure, the orgasm washing over me almost gently. I lay there quietly until all the stimulation gets to be a bit too much, and gently pound my foot against Saint. “You can stop now.”
Saint pulls away from me and licks his lips, then gives me a wide grin. “See? I make sure you’re satisfied. Unlike Angel or Victor.”
“Fuck off,” Angelo mumbles. “I show her plenty of pleasure.” He rubs my arm softly. “Got you off in the dressing room, didn’t I?”
“Victor did too,” I say absently.
“Wait. Dressing room?” Saint gets onto the bed and looks between us. “What did you do with Victor?”
I’m a little surprised Victor hadn’t bragged about it to Saint. “Oh, Victor stalked me to the dress shop and pounced me in the dressing room,” I say, like it was really that simple, but my heart starts to race at the memory—partially because it had felt so good, despite myself, and partially because it had led to… things.
Bad things.
It’s a mood killer, and I slump against the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Angelo pulls me into his arms and arranges us on the bed. “Don’t worry, Saint, you can just ask Victor. I’m sure he’ll give you the blow-by-blow.”
It’s tempting to take a nap now, buoyed between their strong arms, but I don’t have that kind of time. I need to clean up, fix my hair, and get back home before Pavone or Rossi suspect anything. I can’t give them an excuse to hurt Vanessa.
Saint lies down on my other side and looks me in the eyes. “Hey, I really did want to just talk a bit. Sex is fun, but…”
I put a finger to his lips to shush him. “Save the heart to hearts for after Pavone is dead, okay?”
He looks like he wants to argue, but I shake my head.
“We have like five minutes before we need to head out,” Angelo announces, further killing the moment. “We should be able to get back before Pavone and Rossi. You can fix your makeup and stuff before dinner.”
I sigh, then nod. “Yeah,” I say unenthusiastically. “Dinner. Can’t wait.”
19
ANGELO
Idon’t know what I expected of Victor when he walked into my condo, but it wasn’t the quick assessment and then total silence on that front. No mention of how nice the decor is, or the artwork hanging on the wall, a piece that Saint had smuggled in from… somewhere for me. I guess Victor doesn’t know good interior design when it’s staring him flat in the face.
Saint, at least, looks awed. “You got it this nice in just a few weeks? This is better than the mansion.”
“What? No, I’ve been adding to it over the years.” I point them both to the couches in the big open living room. “Have a seat. If you want drinks, serve yourselves, because I’m not serving you.”
