by Daphne Dawn
“It sounds really fun, Marco.”
Her voice is deep and resonant.
I want to grab her and kiss her, start pulling off her nightgown right here on the kitchen bench. Press those soft lips with my own. Force her to acknowledge my feelings through the power of my cock.
Instead, I just smile and let her hands go. I feel empty now, too.
Like this really is a goodbye.
“I’ll wait for you to get ready, then we’ll go, okay?”
She nods. Her face is so sad, I really have nothing else to say.
41
Sofia
I’m now certain that this is over.
Marco seems perfectly sincere. And why not?
He’s about to cut me free like a dead weight—an anchor holding back the whole ship. This charity event thing is just to distract me. He doesn’t need me to do this, he just wants to keep me busy while he figures out a way to get rid of me.
Maybe they know. Maybe they know everything.
How many people I’ve killed. All the secrets of my dark past and how my mother was a whore. I don’t know how deep this goes, but I have to play it as if it’s the worst.
I try to engage in a conversation with Marco, and I try to make it genuine.
I can’t help the touch of ice in my tone. I need to keep him at arms length while I figure out what I’m going to do. I can’t get distracted by cock today.
Everything is fucked—everything is just fucked up.
He smells so good and looks even better. I just want to fall between his knees and nibble at his throat while I rip his pants off. I’m getting wet just thinking about it.
But I can’t. I have no fucking clue what’s going on—with the senator, with the brothers, with my fucking self. I’ve never felt like this before.
Marco pleads off as he drops me at the fancy venue where I’m to meet the charity manager. He clearly doesn’t want to come with me. Can’t stand the sight of me, I imagine.
Maybe this is where it goes down.
The ice of dread deep inside me makes me sharp and clears my head. The place is older than I expected, the big front doors locked up tight. I go through a small service door, and the hallway is dark.
I quickly slide through the shadows, just heading down the hallway, picking a direction randomly. As I approach the main hall, I see movement in the shadows and move quietly up to the archway.
I can hear breathing.
Without giving myself time to think, I jump out into the main hall.
A small, grey-haired man leaps up like a frog and shrieks.
I clutch my chest, staggering backwards.
He laughs and offers me a hand.
“You must be Sofia. Marco said you were coming. Aren’t we a pair of fools? Scaring each other like that. Reginald’s the name.”
I smile and take his hand, stabilizing myself on my heels.
Without my reflexes, I’d be flat out right now.
“Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand gently. “Sorry I crept up on you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He nods sagely. “Old buildings do that to you. The longer the shadows, the more familiar they seem. Come on up to my office for a cup of tea, dear.”
I follow him back up the hallway, and we enter a small office stuffed with papers. He makes us both some weak tea from a thermos and offers me a biscuit.
“No staff in the kitchen yet, unfortunately—you’ll have to rely on me for snacks. Only two weeks and so much to do!”
We go through which charities will be represented and plan for the number of guests we can squeeze into the hall. I enjoy Reginald’s company quite a bit as I can see he’s lived a life of happy sacrifice—a fellow content with his place in the world.
His easy manner and light humor take up the hours without me even noticing.
We get a considerable amount of work done. Reginald has a few ideas about events to run, silent auctions and wishing well games.
Some of Antonio’s paintings will be used as well.
“I believe that’s enough for now, my dear. You can now go ahead and organize catering, cleaners, and decorations. Not to mention a few more staff—I doubt you and I can handle all these people!”
I laugh warmly, promising to see him in a few days. Reginald stays burrowed in amongst his piles of paper as I head through the long hallway back out into the street. I almost hail a taxi, but then I decide to grab some lunch before heading back to the mansion.
The senator is calling again. Why wouldn’t he?
I’ve gathered next to no intel, and I haven’t reported in properly. He has every right to be pissed. Still, I can’t answer, even if it’s just to lie.
I’m so unsure of the facts in this situation that my intuition won’t talk to me.
I decide to try and call Sammy. I know she disappeared some time ago and was believed to be somewhere under deep cover, but she’s broken that cover now by emailing me.
I could be putting her life in danger by contacting her.
I don’t even know if the number will work. She could be anywhere, doing anything.
I have to at least give it a go. I pull out my phone and sidle into a shadowy nook between two shops, turning my head away from the noise of the street.
The phone rings a few times.
I almost jump as a light crackle announces the line being picked up. Silence.
I hear deep breathing, a frightening whisper.
“Sammy?” I whisper, anxiety clutching at my guts.
“Sofia.” The voice is whispery, far away. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the city—on a mission—”
“Watch out. I mean it. Fucking watch your back.”
“What?”
“Nothing is what it seems…I’ve got no one to watch my back. I found out—under cover—I started looking in the wrong places and I—”
“Sammy! What’s happening?”
“I can’t, Sophia. I can’t. I’ve got to go. I’ve got to get out of here. I’m on the run. Just watch your fucking back. Don’t call me again.”
I stare at the phone in disbelief as the call drops out. What the fuck is going on?
42
Franco
The limo is prowling the streets quietly on the way to my building. I can’t take my eyes off Sofia.
She’s been so quiet the last few days. It seemed like she warmed up to us, then retreated again.
Still, even though she’s an amazing woman, she’s still a woman. Their minds run so deep, a man can’t possibly fathom all its depths.
I enjoy just watching her as she gazes out the window. She’s so far away in her mind, I can see it in her eyes. The cute little black pleated miniskirt rests gently on her silky thighs, black stockings and high stilettos set off by a deep-blue blouse.
We’re heading to my building because Sofia has to meet a ton of people today in order to organize catering, wait staff, cleaners, and a host of other staff I can’t even remember. I’m not great at details—that’s why I don’t get the hard jobs.
As we pull up to the building, she gives me a smile. And she looks happy—really happy. I wonder what she’s thinking about…and if I have anything to do with it.
I just want her to be happy. The sight of her smile does something to me, like I could do anything to make sure she keeps it.
I can’t even remember caring so much about another person’s happiness.
We head up into the building, and I show her to the board room she can use. It’s big enough to fit a few people and well-stocked with office supplies and fancy food that important people are used to.
I apologize to her as I hurry off—I have more of those damned call girl interviews, not to mention paperwork piling up.
I spend a few hours doing interviews and rapidly plowing through paperwork before my eyes start getting blurry and a sharp pain creeps up in my neck. There’s only one thing that’s going to make me feel better.
I hurry over to So
phia’s meetings. She’s just sending out smiles and handshakes to a few guys.
“Want to come out for lunch?” I feel like a kid in high school asking the prettiest girl in class to share my crackers.
“Do you have time?” she gives me a look, as if she knows I don’t.
“For you? Always.” I take her hand and squeeze it gently, willing her to feel my love through the touch—to feel the passion of my soul in this simple grip of the hand.
She nods, squeezing my hand back and looking at me like she really does understand.
“Besides,” I say to her, “all work and no play makes a very dull life, don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” she agrees.
I hurry her outside toward the limo, one hand on the small of her back. We slip into the cool long seats, and I put up the privacy windows.
She sits quietly and watches me. I go down on my knees in front of her and run my hands along her thighs.
She smiles, leaning back so I can reach her panties and pull them off. I love the slick feel of the black stocking on her skin—so slippery yet firm. I creep one hand around to grab her ass as my fingers search for her pussy under the short skirt.
She parts her legs, and I see her eyes close as she rocks her hips into my hand. I’m just gently fingering around her clit, lowering to her pussy. She gets wet immediately and starts grinding onto my hand.
She opens her legs wide, looking at me with a wicked grin as she pulls up the miniskirt, exposing long pale thighs above the black of the stockings.
Her pussy is wet, dripping and gorgeously crimson and pink. I grip her knees and kiss her clit, pressing it with my tongue and licking it. She gasps and grabs my hair, and I oblige her by mouthing and sucking on her clit—gently, then harder.
She forces my head down as she brings her hips up, and I plant my hands on her knees, forcing them as far apart as they can go as my mouth delves deep to find her pussy. I stroke her lovingly with my tongue, lapping up her sweet juices and teasing the soft inner lips with my mouth.
I pull my head back and watch her face as I slip two fingers in, exploring her gently and stretching the edges.
She looks up at me, red-cheeked, eyes sparkling. I undo my belt and pants, watching her face as I do. As my cock comes free, she leans forward, falling onto me and pushing me to the floor.
Her hands grip my shoulders hard as she comes down, straddling me. My cock thrusts into her. She’s so wet, and with my cock standing so high and stiff, I slide straight in.
I’m gasping, reaching for her hips and grinding, desperate to make the rhythm.
She just smiles at me with her hands on my shoulders. She grips me hard with her knees, leaning forward to rub her clit against me as she grinds slowly with her hips. The strokes are so slow, sure, and short that I want to move.
I try hard to thrust, but she won’t let me. She holds me tightly between her knees, her hips, and with her firm grip on my shoulders.
She pleasures herself slowly, grinding against my cock, controlling the rhythm. I watch her face change, a massive smile and a wide-eyed look of pleasure breaking across it as I feel her shivering.
Explosions grip my cock far up inside her, and she moans and screams, letting herself go now, hard and fast. I’m screaming too.
“Sofia…Sofia…Oh god, Sofia!”
She’s stretched up, head facing the ceiling as she comes, and I shudder from my cock all the way up into my spine as she milks my juices out of me with her incredibly tight pussy. I pull her to me, kissing her deep and tasting her lips.
I don’t ever want to let her go.
43
Sofia
I stare at the ceiling of the limo as Franco’s cock twitches inside me. He’s gripping my hips as my orgasm begins to die down.
I’m not done—no way. I’ve missed them so much, and this feels so good. I look down into his eyes, and I see exactly what I want to see—he’s looking up at me with so much feeling, like I’m the most important person in the world.
I grab his shoulders and slide off him, settling down between his legs. I leave his cock alone for now and lavish attention on his balls. At my touch, he shivers, goosebumps running through his legs and arms as his muscles draw his balls up against him, tight and hard.
I lick them gently, teasing with my tongue and lips as I use one hand to roll them back and forth in my mouth. I use my other hand to lightly tease his cock, just stroking it gently with my fingertips.
I wrap my hands around his legs and lean in, taking one of his balls into my mouth and sucking on it, pressing it against the roof of my mouth. He gasps, short and sharp, excited cries jerking out from his chest.
One hand comes down, grips my hair, then disappears again. The short cries become one long moan of need as I roll his other ball into my mouth.
He tastes salty and sweet. I can feel his passion rising as I put my lust and my need for him into each stroke of my tongue.
I sit up, looking for his cock. Just as I’d hoped, he’s hard and throbbing and ready to go again. I slither up his body, gently sucking his cock into my mouth inch by inch.
I feel his big hands on the back of my head—not pushing me but following the rhythm.
I sit up, look down at him, and run my hand over his shirt and the hard muscles beneath. It’s like there’s nowhere else in the world except this quiet, private den.
Franco sits up, reaching for me. He finds my lips with his tongue, gently pushing them open. He grips my waist as his mouth opens on mine, tongues exploring.
His cock is rubbing up against me, and I can’t help but grind against it, feeling the slippery pressure on my clit.
He pushes me back against the seat, and I turn to grab hold of it as the limo rocks slightly on a turn. Franco takes advantage of my position, pushing me over so I’m leaning on the soft leather seat with my ass pointed out.
Franco gasps softly as I lean forward, opening my legs. He sounds like a man who found paradise, and it makes me open my legs even wider for him.
My pussy’s throbbing, desperate to feel him inside. The anticipation is making me drip wet.
He leans down to look. His hands are on my ass as he gently kisses my pussy, licking deep inside. His lips run softly over my ass as he grips my hips and leans over me.
I feel his cock just nudging at the slit, and I can’t handle it. A moan comes out like a sob.
“Franco, oh fuck me. Fuck me, please.” I open my legs even further. He edges his cock in, just another half inch, holding my hips tight.
“This? Is this what you want, beautiful woman? You want this big hard cock to fuck you?”
“Yes!” I cry out, trying to scuttle backwards and let my pussy devour his cock.
He firmly places one hand on my shoulder and one on the small of my back so I can’t move. I moan in frustration, writhing under his hands. He gives me another slow—so slow—inch.
I’m trembling now. I have my knees open as far as they can go. He has my head pushed down into the seat so my ass is high.
Slowly, he pushes his cock in. I scream and try to thrash, but his hands are too strong. He firmly presses his hips against me, pinning me to the seat with his body and his hands.
He starts to draw out, just as slow, and I actually think I’m going to cry at the pleasure of it.
I’ve never known a man with such control. I’ve never known such pleasure.
His hand on my shoulder grips me hard suddenly, and he begins to thrust hard and fast. The force of his hips slamming into me shoves me against the soft seats, pinning me breathless.
Legs wide open, I point my ass up as high as I can and enjoy the exquisite sensation of his long, hard cock thrashing my hot, wet pussy.
I’m nothing but lust, panting, crying, and begging for more as he pins me between two hands. One hand is on my shoulder, and one on my waist as his hips slam me with all of his strength.
I feel my next orgasm from very deep and come, gasping and shuddering, legs trying
to slam shut as my arms shake. Franco furiously pumps out the last few strokes until I feel him squirting hot cum deep inside me. He lies against my back, both of us breathing heavily.
From the floor where it must’ve rolled from his pocket, Franco’s phone begins to ring. He slips out of me with a curse and answers it.
“Hello. Oh, its you.” He glances at me, turning away to the corner and covering his mouth. Through the joy of the afterglow, I feel a stab of fear.
“No…no, that’s been taken care of…won’t suspect a thing…yeah, sure…”
I pull myself together on the seat, shaking all over. I’m a damn fool to feel so much. It’s just fucked, isn’t it?
Clearly, it’s all going to turn to crap. Soon they’ll get rid of me and find some new girl to play with—one with no baggage and no secrets.
44
Sofia
A few days after the fantastic sex in the limo, all the boys are out and busy. I’m done with my meetings, and I’m wandering around the mansion, a little bored—and a little horny.
It’s now or never. If I’m going to find something on them, I need to do it now. I’m finally angry and suspicious enough to go snooping.
I hope I find something—something to help me make my decision.
To stay, or to go? Run back to the agency, or just run?
I’m kidding myself though, really.
Hunting for information and actually having them convicted are two different things.
I snoop around Antonio’s art studio and Franco’s study. I don’t find much.
I’ve saved the best for last—Marco’s office.
If there are records to be found, they’ll be here.
All the recent documents from the last few years are easy to locate. Marco’s left his computer open, and I’m surprised to find the only evidence to be found is positive.
Receipts of legitimate deals, new buildings, deeds, passports. All legal documents.
