But if Stefan was telling me the truth—and KZ Modeling truly was a legitimate operation—then why carry on with the seedy side of the business? It was clear the agency had the potential to run on its own, without Konstantin’s illegal hustling and backdoor dealings. I could really see the company thriving solely as a modeling agency. Especially given the success and industry reputation that KZM had built up over the last few decades.
And I couldn’t help wondering—why couldn’t Stefan see it, too?
Stefan
Chapter 17
“This conversation is over,” I told Tori, leveling a hot gaze in her direction.
Our discussion was getting too close to one I couldn’t be having. Tori’s curiosity—her endless need to know the truth—was putting both of us at risk. I couldn’t allow that. Couldn’t allow her to get any closer to my secrets. For her good and for my own as well.
But I also knew that she was stubborn and persistent. Now that I had agreed to talk about the agency, she was going to keep asking questions until she knew everything. Until she became a liability. Something that would have to be dealt with, and god help her then.
I had to distract her.
“But—” she started to protest.
“Go to the bedroom, take off all your clothes, and wait for me,” I commanded.
I saw her desire warring with her need for answers.
“Go now and I’ll let you come twice,” I told her, knowing she wanted it. Knowing she craved me. “I won’t say it again.”
We both knew that she liked it when I talked to her this way—when I ordered her around, when I told her what to do. Still, she hesitated, the wine glass held tightly in her hand.
“Do we have a deal, kitty cat?” I asked, pitching my voice low.
I also knew that she loved it when I called her by that pet name. It drove her wild.
Her face was flushed, and she set her glass back on the table.
“Deal,” she breathed.
Without another word, she pushed back her chair and all but ran to the bedroom.
I downed the rest of my wine, imagining my wife getting more and more turned on as the anticipation built inside of her. I knew that when I went down the hall and walked through that door, she’d be naked and spread across our bed, her pussy wet and more than ready for me.
The sight of her was even more of a turn-on than I’d imagined. She was staring up at the ceiling, her chest heaving with the rapid breaths she was taking, her pale hair fanned across the bedspread. Her cunt looked like a glistening dessert, waiting for me to wrap my mouth around it.
“You look good enough to eat,” I told her from the doorway.
I sauntered over to her, forced her thighs even farther apart, and gave her a long, slow lick. Just to drive her crazy. Just to make her beg. And she did.
Lapping at her slit with the flat of my tongue, I steadily worked my way into a hard, fast rhythm. When her moans got frantic and high-pitched, I slipped two fingers inside of her, picking up where my tongue had left off. She was close, I could tell by the way her hips were bucking wildly. The way she was thrashing her head back and forth on the bed.
There was nothing like the feeling of getting her off, knowing I was completely in control. I had all the power. It was my favorite kind of high. Tori was right on the edge, so wet, her breaths harsh and fast. Knowing exactly how to finish her off, I leaned down and sucked her clit into my mouth, still pumping my fingers. I felt her thighs press tight against the sides of my head, her fingers twisting in my hair.
“Oh my god,” she was saying, over and over again.
“Come in my mouth,” I said, pausing just long enough to say the words. “Come for me.”
My wife knew how to follow an order. I smirked to think that some of the neighbors might be able to hear her moans, that they’d know exactly who’d made her scream like that.
“Please,” she panted after that first orgasm, her nails raking my shoulders. “I need you.”
I stripped off my clothes and climbed over her on the bed, plunging my cock into her, fucking her hard and steady until she cried out with her release again.
After that it was my turn.
