Page 8 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

I crossed the room before she could escape and pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Do you want to be with someone else?”

She gulped. “You’re my bosses.”

I tsked. “Yes, we are. When we are at work. Here and now, we do not give a flying fuck who you work for. We want to get to know the woman we’ve been messaging for weeks.” I kept hold of her chin, my touch gentle enough that she could break away anytime.

She didn’t, and that told me more than she probably knew.

“Answer the question. Do you want to be with someone else?” I felt more than heard or saw Mikhail’s attention, and I cursed my wording. Being abandoned was a trigger for Mikhail. “Do you want to start all over with some man who knows nothing about you or would you rather stay here with us? With the men who already know your deepest desires and are more than willing to fulfil them?”

The pink returned to her cheeks. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have you know that?”

“Darling, you accused me of having fleas in my ass. Embarrassment went out the window a long time ago.” I angled my head toward the table. “If nothing else, have dinner with us.”

Another hard swallow, and she relented with a quiet sigh. “Okay.”

Mikhail pulled out a chair for her, holding it until she sat. His knuckles ran along her back and across her shoulder, and I knew then that he was all in.

Few women attracted Mikhail’s attention, and when they did, he locked in with all his tenaciousness. A good trait to have in most situations, especially since he worked as our enforcer.

Viktor sat, propped his elbows on the table, and steepled his hands in front of his mouth. “Tell me, Peyton, what did you hope to gain from tonight?”

“Are you asking if I knew it was you?” Her brows drew down, and she fisted her hands on her thighs.

Sitting had pulled the dress up so high I glimpsed her ass when she tried to cross her legs. “That is not what he’s asking.” I shot Viktor a glare, the unspoken demand that he not ruin this for us causing him to arch his eyebrows.

He might be the most calculating mind behind our power, but he did not get to end this before it had a chance to begin.

“We would not be on an app that might reveal our identity.” It might not sound like much, but it was as close to an apology as I would get.

Peyton seemed at a loss for words. She eyed us, then the food. “After all our conversations, I hoped that tonight, I would finally get to experience some of my fantasies.” Her face flamed, but she held Viktor’s gaze. Good for her.

I could tell her not to be afraid of him, but that defeated the purpose. Instead, I sat beside her and spooned some of the glazed strawberries onto her plate.

When she kept her hands in her lap, I reached past her, making sure my shoulder grazed her breast and enjoying her sudden inhale, and picked up one of the chocolate cherries. “You told us these are your favorite.” I held it out to her, pinched between my thumb and forefinger the same way I’d held her chin. “Would you like to try one?”

“You first.” Her jaw set.

Amusement flickered to life. I glanced across to Mikhail, who gave Peyton an approving look. “Suspicious?” I popped the cherry into my mouth and bit down. “Do you think we cajoled you here only to drug you and have our way with you?”

“It crossed my mind.”

Mikhail’s smile broke free. “You are safe with us. But you are good to be suspicious. Do not let down your guard. Perhaps not even with us.” The enigmatic contradiction caused Peyton’s lips to purse.

She pulled a cherry from the plate and ate it, her eyes going wide at the flavors. “Where did you get these?”

“Special order.” I picked up a second one, and this time, when I held it out to her, she wrapped her lips around the fruit and my fingers, her tongue sweeping the pad of my thumb as she pulled the cherry into her mouth.

“Is there any one fantasy you would like to live out tonight?” As with every interaction Viktor attended, he remained fixated on this one thing until he received a satisfactory answer.

Peyton shook her head. “I’ve been… disappointed too many times to have expectations. I came here hoping for a good time.”

“We will make that happen.” I let her hear the promise in my voice. “And it begins now. With your fantasy of being part of a feast.”

“What about you? You all have fantasies and desires too.”

I pressed my finger to her lips. “Our fantasies mix with yours. It is your pleasure that helps bring us pleasure.”

“You do not have to worry about us.” Mikhail leaned back in his chair, his honed body tense. “We know how to find our pleasure. We are interested in yours.”