And oh look. It matches the color of my dress because yes, Marco is holding one of the sex toys I bought from the Sex Saloon,intended for playtime with Tony—but Tony is gay, and I got his three uncles instead.
Umm, wow, Starling.
“We sent your picture to our PA, and she arranged this dress and shoes, but the toy is all yours,” Marco says. It’s almost as if they snapped their fingers, and their bidding was done. I mean, that’s exactly what they did.
I take a deep breath as they approach me. My skin ignites at their scent. They’re freshly showered, donned in tuxedos tailored to fit their magnificent physiques.
My mouth waters at the memory of their touch, and I desperately want them to kiss me again, to touch me again.
They start by removing my haphazardly pulled-on clothes, and once again, I’m naked.
I barely breathe as Marco slips his fingers between my thighs to check my wetness. I’m already wet, but against his touch, I’m now drenched.
He licks his finger while Enzo and Dario watch, then he positions the contoured red toy, the head just skimming my entrance. He ties the little ribbons attached to the toy at my hips.
Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy.
It nestles against my clit in the most provocative manner, and now it’s all I can think of.
Enzo holds my hand and leads me to step into the skirt of the dress before he pulls it up and into my arms, enclosing me inside.
It fits so well it could have been made specifically for me. What magical PA do they have that she could look at an image of me and get my size right? Not to mention her impeccable taste.
Suddenly, I wonder who this woman is. Is she young and pretty? Stunning, even? Do they like her? Does she know everything intimate about them already? Does she stand a little too close to them, inhaling their scent while she ogles them?
Why am I jealous of their PA, a woman I won’t know from a Christmas sugar cookie?
What is going on with me? Also, I have bigger problems.
I’m wearing a sex toy under a designer dress and going to dinner with three excessively handsome men.
Chapter Eight
Starling
This is going down as the most unusual dinner of my life. Also, the hottest.
“Oh, one more thing,” Enzo says just as they’re about to lead me out of the bedroom. I say "lead" loosely because I’m walking as if I have a toy stuck between my legs in my vagina.
“When this happens…” He switches on the toy, and I jump as if electrocuted. Holy mother of all that is Christmas, my poor virgin body does not know how to handle this ridiculous bolt of sensation.
I wobble, worried I’m going to fall off my heels and land on my face while my body still vibrates. I hold onto a chair with a death grip, my knuckles turning white.
Bigger problems.
I’m going to come before I fall. But just as I’m about to explode, Enzo switches the toy off. I’m still rattled and can barely stand up straight. Also, how cruel.
“If you want us to turn it off during dinner, you will have to kiss whichever one of us is holding the remote. Capisci, principessa?”
I nod, despite not fully understanding what is going on. Who would if they had their body go up in flames just seconds ago?But why can’t I have both—a fierce orgasm while kissing them? I’ve experienced it before, and I really like it.
With this unexpected turn in my lady garden, we’re off to dinner.
Except it’s not just them I’m having dinner with. When they lead me into their very plush dining room, decorated with a white Christmas theme, it’s already filled with people I don’t know at all. I’m looking at a room full of strangers.
My mind swims with names and faces as I’m introduced to them all, but the most memorable are the man they introduce as their mentor, Don, and their grandmother, a formidable woman in her eighties who insists I call her Rosa—her given name—just as everyone else does.
The conversations I try to have are extremely awkward, of course. I talk as if I have something up my vajaja. Oh wait, I do have something up my vajaja.
