She purses her fuchsia-colored lips in a pout that’s supposed to be enticing, but I find it irritating. I should have lipstick stains on my cock already and all she wants to do is take a mental inventory of the items in my home, as if she’s imagining herself living here.
Sandy has another fucking thing coming.
Well, I should be coming. But after I come in her mouth, and in her overeager cunt, she’ll be gone. Like all the others before her. I prefer to fuck women in my house for many reasons, the most important one being that it’s heavily guarded.
The second is so I can tell them to leave.
I don’t hold anything against these women for wanting a good time, since that’s what I have them around for. But under no circumstances will they be allowed to stay the night.
They may have a pussy, but I don’t take in strays.
Samantha stands before me and stares at me. I return the look and then flick my gaze to my cock. The hungry gleam in her eyes returns and she drops to her knees in between my legs. She’s most likely envisioning pleasing me enough so I’ll think she’s special or worth keeping around.
Un-fucking-likely.
“So how do you want it, daddy?” She places her palms on my thighs and runs them upward until her thumbs brush my groin. “Do you want me to take it slow and drive you crazy? Or fast and put you out of your misery?”
“Lady’s choice.” I give her a wink in encouragement and she reaches for my belt.
About fucking time.
There are no formal rules when it comes to sucking dick, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon to shove a woman’s mouth onto your cock until she can’t breathe, let alone speak. It may be rude, but it’s effective in getting someone to stop talking incessantly.
And it feels good. So, that’s my go-to.
Samara pulls my belt, slowly with great theatrics, and then tosses it over her shoulder. I take another drink and wait for the show to be over. I’ve got things to do, people to kill.
The glamorous life of a made man.
As soon as my pants are unbuttoned and my zipper lowered, she slides her hand down my abdomen while making noises of appreciation. I down another swallow of alcohol and set my tumbler on the end table just as she wraps her fingers around my cock. Looking up at me, with her lashes fluttering, she lowers her head.
The ringing of my cell phone has me pressing my index finger against Suzie’s lips. “One second.”
She gives a playful huff and sits back on her haunches as I lean over to retrieve the phone. I frown at the screen, wondering why the employee who mans the desk downstairs is contacting me.
I press the answer button. “Hello?”
“Mr. Silvestri, I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. However, there’s someone here that’s requesting access to your floor and I wanted to notify you.”
“Who is it, Mike?”
The guy clears his throat and that small hesitation piques my interest. “She doesn’t wish to say, sir.”
My brows draw together and I mentally sift through the women I know who’d act in such a secretive way. When I come up blank, I find myself intrigued. “I’m not going to allow this woman entry if she doesn’t identify herself. You can tell her to cut the bullshit.”
Sasha glares at me from beneath her lowered lashes and I ignore her.
“He wants to know your name, miss,” Mike says, his voice some distance from the phone. A soft, feminine voice flits over the line, but not enough for me to recognize the speaker. However, I find myself mentally trying to place the melodic cadence. “Sir, she wishes to speak with you.”
My brows raise, despite me not having an audience; other than the blonde in front of me shooting daggers in my direction. “What do you think of her?” I ask Mike. He used to be a bouncer in one of the clubs I frequented and I hired him to evaluate and vet the people who enter this building. Not only because I live here and I own it, but due to his incredible memory and gut instincts.
“I would listen to what she has to say, sir.”
“Very well. Put her on.”
“Hello?” At the sultry voice gliding across my ear, I sit up straight. “Is thisSignorSilvestri?”
“Yes,” I say.
