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She mumbles against my fingers, “A slut.”
Withdrawing my digits, I fist my hand tightly in her hair, making her wince. “I can’t hear you.”
“A slut!”
“What kind of slut?”
“A naughty slut,” she huffs. “A slut who wants to be used, who wants to be your fuck toy.”
Her words make my balls boil with desire. Timing my thrust with Andrian’s, I shove myself into her.
“You make a good fuck toy, princess,” I tell her. It’s the truth. I can’t remember being aroused to these depths before. And most of it is from getting her off. “How ‘bout I keep you as my fuck toy for a while? Make this basement your personal sex dungeon. Invite more guys over. See how many you can take at once. Would you like that?”
Her eyes are glossy with lust.
“Of course you would,” I answer for her. “And even if you didn’t want that, it doesn’t matter. I can do whatever I want with you.”
She seems to hear the truth in my statement and looks at me quizzically.
Andrian pumps faster, chasing his orgasm. “We send her back to Callaghan full of cum, so daddy can see his little girl is whore.”
A minute later, Andrian clenches his teeth. His face becomes red. He shoves deep and almost pushes Casey off my cock. After several shudders and grunts, he withdraws and collapses onto the bed.
With my cock still hard and throbbing inside her, I let Casey lay atop me to gather herself. Some of Andrian’s cum oozes out of her and drips onto my balls. A part of me wants to drill my fist into his face, a sensation I’ve never felt with Andrian before. While there have been plenty of times when Andrian exasperated me, I’ve always played the yin to his yang. I don’t owe him anything because I’ve more than repaid him for protecting me on the streets of Blagoveshchensk when we were young, but he’s my friend and also my partner in the most important sale of my career. Casey is just a spoiled young woman I barely know.
Still…
My adoptive father is big on intuition and listening to the part of the brain that only speaks in whispers. He says he owes all his successes to following his intuition and has mentioned more than once that when he met my adoptive mother for the first time, he knew they were meant to be.
It’s probably just dumb luck that it worked out with the woman he felt that way about, but I do believe that our mind processes a lot more than we’re cognizant of. And if I’m honest with myself, I felt a pull toward Casey the moment our eyes met. I just didn’t realize it at the time because the sexual energy from the club got in the way.
Andrian’s cellphone rings. Grumbling, he pulls it out and, seeing the caller, mutters in Russian, “Bitch, what the fuck?”
“Elena?” I guess.
He shakes his head. “Katya.”
“Not Lukashenko’s Katya,” I say in Russian.
Andrian doesn’t reply.
I raise a brow. “Messing with your boss’ wife. That’s high risk.”
Quickly zipping up, Andrian turns to me. “Keep the cunt quiet.”
I clasp my hand over Casey’s mouth and tell her, “Don’t make a sound if you want to come.”
Casey remains still while Andrian, heading toward the stairs, picks up the call.
“Katya!” I hear him greet with false enthusiasm as he climbs the stairs. “I hope nothing is wrong. I only get urgent calls on my cellphone.”
I release Casey only after hearing the door close.
“What was that about?” she inquires.
“His girlfriend called,” I answer.
“So I take it she wouldn’t approve of what he just did?”
