Page 360 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

So much better than that fat fuck Vigo was.

I run my hands up and down his spine before gripping his waist. His mouth has moved up to my ear, tugging at my lobe and teasing the area behind it. I let a tiny mewl slip out as I cup his dick, stroking it through the fabric of his pants. So itistrue what they say about Italian guys.

They really are massively hung.

Heat pools between my legs when I feel his fingers slide up the sides of my dress. He presses against my clit through the lacy fabric and I squeal as he slides it to the side, plunging his digits into my pussy. He drags them out slowly, agonizingly, and methodically, rubbing against my clit before shoving them deep once again. I clench around his fingers as he taunts me with the push and pull. I lift one leg and snake it around his waist, drawing him closer so I can slip my own hand into his pants. I fumble with the button, finally able to grasp his throbbing dick. I rub my finger over the tip, sliding the slick precum up and down his shaft as I stroke him.

He crushes his lips to mine once again, groaning against my mouth as I tighten my grip around him, running my hand up and down with increasing speed as my body quivers and trembles against him. The orgasm rips through me, paralyzing every movement to the point where I can’t even move because the rush is so intense.

And that’s just what hishandscan do.

Holy hell, this is bad with a capital B.

When my eyes finally flutter open, I see the smug, satisfied look on his face. I let my leg fall back to the floor and pull down my dress, my short, sharp gasps making my chest quake. “So that was your plan all along? Pull me into a dark area and finger fuck me?”

He shrugs, a wicked twinkle in his eye. “It’s not like you stopped me.”

“Maybe I was due for a little release,” I grumble as he puts himself back together. I chew my bottom lip. And it was great, but I’m a little defeated, to be honest. He was able to make me come undone faster than I’d ever thought possible, and I just get a little pre-cum in exchange?

I wanted to see him unravel the way I just did.

The way I want to again.

The way I never will, though, because I’ve been here for far too long.

I put my hand against his chest and push him away from me. “Thanks for that,” I say, with a flip of my fake hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to use the ladies’ room, the whole reason why I came back here in the first place.” I smirk at him. “See, I wasn’t actually trying to get off.”

“Shocker,” he murmurs, reaching around and grasping my ass. “I guess I had you pegged for a different girl.”

What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

He stands back and nods toward the door next to us. “I’ll be waiting.”

I allow my lips to curl upward in a seductive grin. Yes, sweetie, but you have no idea how long of a wait you’re in for. Then, I pull open the door and walk inside.

When the door closes, I quickly lock it. Thank God it’s a one-person restroom with a window, a fact Romeo may have wanted to check before he let me come in here. I guess he thinks if I come out with some kind of weapon he might have overlooked, he’ll be prepared because he’s in the offensive position standing out there like some kind of sexy AF bodyguard.

But I don’t plan on ever seeing him again.

I quickly pull off my wig and all of the hair pins that were keeping it in place, allowing my light blonde hair to tumble over my shoulders. Then I pluck out my colored contact lenses and strip off my dress and heels, shoving everything into the trash. I squint at my reflection in the mirror.

I open my bag and pull out my phone, eyeglasses, a rubber band, a pair of tiny Nike pro Spandex shorts, and a pair of mesh sneakers that I can literally roll up and stuff into my smallest bag. In less than a minute, I look like I’m just out for a brisk jog on this balmy summer evening in Brighton Beach.

Then I unlock the window and lift it slowly, giving myself just enough space to slip out of the room and into the darkness. Luckily, the side of the bar the bathrooms is on is a relatively quiet cross street, so nobody is there to witness me shimmy out of the place in basically glorified underwear. I look left and right, tighten my ponytail, and adjust my shorts before trotting down the street, away from Velvet Lounge away from Vigo and Tatiana, and away from the most erotic experience I never should have had in the first place.

It’s about damn time I closed the book on tonight.

My phone vibrates and I hold it to my ear. “Hi.”

“Anya,” Uncle Boris hisses into my ear. “Is it done?”

“Of course,” I say in a perky voice as I keep up my brisk pace.

“Good,” he replies. “It’s time to discuss the next part of your job. I’ll meet you at home.”

“Perfect, I’m on my way.”

I peek over my shoulder but I’m still by myself. And even if I wasn’t, I look nothing like the little tart who just got finger-fucked by a slick Italian guy who may or may not have been waiting to ice me back at the lounge.

---