Page 41 of Stalking Ginevra

Dread seeps into my bones as I obey his command. My fingers close around another butt plug. It’s smaller than last night’s monstrosity, with a heart-shaped jewel set within its base.

It would be beautiful, even touching, if I didn’t need to shove it up my ass. Without waiting to be ordered, I run its bulbous tip under warm water, rest my foot on a stool, and slip it into my anus. The stretch is uncomfortable, but a pulse of unwelcome heat flickers low in my belly, igniting a sensation I refuse to acknowledge.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Now pull out your second gift.”

Grinding my teeth, I extract a silicone U-shaped device with a rounded body. One end is bulbous, and the other is elongated and thin.

“Slip it in your pussy,” he says, his voice breathy.

I grind my teeth, hating this sadistic, controlling bastard. “Don’t you think two toys are overkill?”

“Speaking of killing?—”

“Alright,” I snap, and shove the thicker part of the toy into my pussy. My muscles grip around the thick object, creating a teasing pressure. It swells into a heat that coils deep in my core.

“Adjust it so the thinner part covers your clit.”

Resentment burns through my veins like acid. I can’t allow this to continue. He doesn’t get to sneak in the shadows, threatening the people I love to obtain sexual favors. What kind of desperate sicko goes so far? He probably has no teeth or an unfortunate-looking face.

Shifting the object in place, I shoot my phone a glare. “Anything else?”

“Keep that toy where it belongs until I give you permission to remove it.”

My lips tighten. He doesn’t need to voice the unspoken threat. Before I can even complete that thought, the sex toy rumbles. Of course, it does. Because he’s determined to dominate every aspect of my life.

The sensation is maddening, a slow, insidious pleasure that’s subtle, almost bearable. But with each pulse, the vibration creeps deeper, sending a humiliating warmth pooling between my legs, no matter how fiercely I resist. The thought of his control makes my jaw tighten. I loathe how my thighs clench, craving more, even as my mind twists with horror.

“I have a question,” I say, my voice wavering. “Did you murder my father?”

There’s no answer.

An hour later, I head to work, feeling like everyone knows my secret. The toy seems sound-sensitive, buzzing with every spoken word. My talkative Uber driver, with his endless chatter, nearly drove me to the brink of climax.

Mom won’t answer her phone, and I don’t have Bossanova’s number. On the journey downtown, I messaged my stalker, demanding an update on her situation, but he went silent.

He only replied when I tampered with the toy in the bathroom. The bastard sent a photo of Mom speaking to Benito at the mansion’s double doors along with a message about following her home.

I can’t concentrate. Not on the court documents, not on client phone calls, not even in the privacy of my cubicle. Julian won’t stop chattering. Every time he leans over to offer his condolences, the toy vibrates.

Nick Terranova calls me into Dad’s old office for a meeting with Salvatore Bellavista, the owner of the largest casino equipment manufacturing company in North East America.

He’s a jowly, corpulent man, resembling a bloated version of an old-school mobster.

Dad used to manage the Bellavista account with Julian, Martina and his trusted team. Now that he’s dead, Mr. Bellavista wants to work with me. I can barely concentrate on the meeting because their raised voices keep aggravating the toy. Each word spoken seems to sync with the pulsing between my legs, the buzzing more insistent.

Sweat breaks out across my skin and trickles down my back. I shift in the seat, my fingers tightening around my pen. Its plastic bites into my palm, grounding me for just a moment the sensation becomes overwhelming. The room disappears as the buzzing intensifies, blurring my vision and scattering my thoughts.

“Loyalty is very important to me, Mr. Terranova,” says the old man. “As such, I would like to continue my relationship with your firm, working with Joseph’s heir.”

Biting my lip, I stifle a moan. This conversation is relentless. As is that fucking toy. My hips shift, trying to avoid the protrusion vibrating against my clit. Heat surges up my spine, making it impossible to stay still, as every small movement heightens the maddening sensation. I roll my eyes, my body teetering on a dangerous precipice. Martina gives me a hard shove, forcing my attention back to the meeting.

Terranova’s lips tighten. “Miss Di Marco is a capable attorney, but her expertise is in research. Possibly even drafting.May I suggest Miss Mancini?” He gestures at Julian. “Or Mr. Riva?”

Bellavista’s gaze lands on me. “Do you think you can handle my account, Ginevra?”

I clear my throat. “Um… Yes, sir. I’m… Oh…” I blow out a breath, trying to disguise a moan. But the vibration is unforgiving, and I can barely remember what I was about to say. “I’m fully versed in contract law. Taking on your account with the help of my colleagues… Ah… Won’t be a problem.”

The old man frowns, his jowly features wrinkling with concern. “Are you okay?”

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