Page 77 of Stalking Ginevra

By now, Ginevra is glancing around the room, perhaps searching for hidden cameras. Or does she miss me?

I message her with:Stick it in your cunt.

She lies back on the bed and obeys, sliding the silicone into that wet little pussy. Her back arches, and her hips rock asshe takes the toy deeper, her thighs trembling with every push. As my cock presses against my zipper, my gaze darts between Gil and Roman. They’re both too preoccupied with the family dinner to notice.

I send another message to Ginevra:Deeper.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she obeys, pushing the toy deeper, her body tensing with every inch. The sight of her splayed out for me is beyond intoxicating. My grip tightens around the phone as she squirms against the mounting pleasure and struggles to maintain control. I breathe harder, waiting for the moment she shatters.

Insert the butt plug, I text, my breath hitching with anticipation.

She reaches into the box and extracts another toy, this one attached to a fluffy, stripy orange tail. Annoyance flickers across her pretty features, but I revel in the sight of her discomfort.

Do it, I command.

Ginevra takes a bottle of lube from the box, her hands trembling as she coats the plug with the slick substance.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushes the toy into her ass with a soft whimper that makes my heart skip.

Her submission sends a thrill down my spine that settles in my balls. The power I hold over her, the way she bends to my will—it’s everything this treacherous beauty deserves.

At some point, a clink and rattle of metal becomes too distracting to ignore. I glance up from my important business to find Cesare leading in his little assassin, only he’s dressed her in lingerie, heels high enough to break both ankles, and a leather skirt that looks sprayed onto her skin. My gaze drops down to the source of the sound: each ankle is connected by chains.

He isn’t just playing with fire, but with flaming swords. The woman’s eyes are sharp enough to slice my brother’s throat. Mylip curls. Is this how he wastes valuable stock from his fetish store?

After a pointless back and forth with my brother, I make a mental note to obtain a few similar items for Ginevra.

By now, she’s inserted the plug, along with a pair of matching ears. Without prompting, she slips on some furry gloves, and lies on the bed, waiting for my next order.

I stifle a groan.

The only thing distracting from this perfect moment is that she’s debasing herself for a masked stranger and not for me.

Dismissing Cesare’s antics with a grunt, I focus on Ginevra’s struggles with the toy.

Lick it clean, I order, wondering how far she’ll go.

Seconds later, Roman smashes his fist on the table, making my head snap up. Since everyone, including Cesare’s little assassin, are glaring at Gil’s date, I turn my attention back to the phone.

The dining room is a blur, the sounds of clinking silverware and murmured conversations fading into the background. All that matters is the scene playing out on my phone, the way Ginevra debases herself for the camera.

Her body trembles as she fights against the pleasure, but there’s no denying the intensity of her arousal. She loves my attention. Loves these filthy orders.

Ginevra’s breath hitches, her body arching off the bed as she teeters on the edge of release. I tighten my grip on the phone, my own pulse quickening in response.

Don’t come until I tell you, I text, knowing it’ll push her even further. The thrill of control, the power I hold over my Ginny—it’s a rush like no other.

But just as she’s about to break, someone calls my name.

When I glance up, Roman and Capello’s daughter are gone. So is Sofia. As is the noisy blonde. All that’s left are Cesare, his assassin, and an annoyed-looking Gil.

It’s time to ask my little brother if he’s a serial killer.

THIRTY-THREE

GINEVRA

Was I a good girl for Brisket?

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