Page 76 of Stalking Ginevra

“Giiil!”

I turn to see a large-breasted blonde teetering out of the dining room, clinging to the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. Her eyes land on Gil, who shoots me a sheepish grin.

“Is that your date?” I ask with a smirk.

Gil chuckles. “Where’s yours?”

Gilberto is sounding too much like Cesare. That little bastard is always the first to taunt me about never getting laid. If he knew my sexual experience until recently consisted of internet clips and my hand, he’d never shut the hell up.

I walk past him, heading for the kitchen, nearly colliding with Sofia. I place a hand on our housekeeper’s shoulder, holding her steady.

“You’re my date for tonight,” I say before continuing down the hall.

After getting changed, I step into the dining room, pull out my phone, and check on the surveillance app. Ginevra lies in bed, beautifully naked. Her auburn hair fans across the pillow, forming a halo of sin. She would look like a work of art if you ignore what she’s doing with her hands.

Her fingers slide down her belly, gliding between her folds in a way that makes my blood heat. I slip in an earpiece, listening to the sounds of her pleasure. Every soft moan, every gasp is like gasoline on a fire.

I send her a message:Did you get my gift?

Seconds later, her reply comes through:Fuck off.

Smirking, I text back:Continue like that and I’ll fuck your ass tonight with no lube.

An exasperated sigh fills my ear. She opens the box beside her bed and pulls out the toys I sent, along with a maid’s costume. My breath quickens as she hesitates, her fingers hovering over the black fabric.

Put it on.

She stares at the screen, her lips tight. I message her again, making her rise off the bed and slip into the costume. Her movements are jerky, almost reluctant, but I’m transfixed by the way the outfit clings to her curves, the way the silk accentuates every contour. Heat floods my cock, and I shift on my seat.

“Benito.” Roman’s voice cuts through my evening’s entertainment. “Where’s Cesare?”

I shrug, barely registering the question, too focused on Ginevra fastening the last button. She’s waiting, her posture unsure, her fingers shivering with anticipation.

Get on the bed. Kneel.

Gil answers Roman’s question and poses another about the empty seat on my left. Ginevra positions herself for me on the bed, her head bowed, that glorious hair falling around her shoulders.

I text again:Spank yourself five times. Count them.

She hesitates for several heartbeats, and I wonder if she’ll say no. But then she bends over and delivers the first slap.

“One,” she whispers through my earpiece, her voice breathy.

My cock stirs. She continues, her voice breaking with every slap. The sound of each spank sends heat through my veins. I take a bite of my bruschetta, immersing myself in the beauty of her obedience, the way she submits.

When she reaches the fifth, her skin flushes, her breath becomes ragged, and her nipples stand out like bullets. I shift on my seat, stifling a groan. My dirty little Ginny wants more.

Choose a toy.

She hesitates, her fingers hovering over the open box. That sweet reluctance makes the game all the more satisfying.

I send another message:Start with the largest one.

With trembling fingers, Ginevra selects a dildo the size of my cock. She runs her fingers over its veiny shaft and waits for my next command.

Just as I’m about to tap an order, my phone buzzes with another message, only this time it’s not from Ginevra. Gil sends a text from the other side of the table, reminding me to confront Cesare about Allegra.

I’ll do it in my own time.

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