Page 23 of Volatile

“Lay it on me, baby.”

Despite his instruction for me to move, he threads his fingers through my hair and roughly pulls me to him until his lips are on mine.

I’m in a tug of war as hands land on my hips, pulling me away and sitting me on another thigh. Vitali’s jaw clenches and he positions me so I’m facing Zidane and my legs are between his. He locks me in place with his hand around my throat, and his voice deepens.

“She sits here, fucking continue.”

I’ve been around them both enough to know Zidane won’t be fazed and he slides closer in the booth. His fingers thread through my hair, fighting for dominance as Vitali squeezes the sides of my neck.

Fuck. I have one man’s tongue in my mouth but it’s the one slowly sipping his drink that has all my attention. Zidane is handsome but there’s nothing stimulating my mind when it comes to him. Sliding my hand under my dress, I discreetly pass Vitali the phone I took from Genevieve, and he relaxes minutely only to instantly harden again. His thumb presses under my jaw, tilting my head back as he gives Zidane a silent instruction which he follows.

Vitali is a bastard, and he’s tracked every point of my body with his tongue; he knows that spot on my neck makes me weak as Zidane gently bites below my ear. He abruptly stops and asks, “Fuck, baby, how much have you drank? I can taste it on you.” The first sign of hesitance comes from Zidane, and he pulls back, checking my pupils. “You good?”

It’s laughable that he has a moral code considering his line of work and the reputation of his family, but Genevieve can’t see me, so I allow them to see that I’m sober.

“I might have missed my mouth when I took a shot.”

He relaxes when he sees I’m not intoxicated and moves closer, his nose brushing mine and a filthy smile frames his even filthier words.

“Can I miss when I take mine?”

I like this game, it gets me away from fixating on what’s on the phone and I check to see she’s fucked off before engaging. The table is empty, no guards are positioned waiting for her return and the mess I created is still there. Knocking Vitali’s hand away, I cross one leg over the other and tilt my chin in the air, acting scandalized.

“What kind of girl do you think I am? I’m a lady you know.”

Heat brushes my cheek and Vitali’s deep voice is in my ear. “And all ladies wear pearl necklaces.”

The two shitheads laugh at his pun before they exchange a look, silently coming to an agreement.Zidane stands and he doesn’t adjust as he smirks over at me. Vitali doesn’t move from my ear and his hand lands on my thigh.

“You want to follow through, sweetness?”

Between the two of them I’ll be struggling to walk tomorrow but who needs temporary comfort when I can live out a hidden fantasy. He groans into my ear and massages up my thigh before I can answer.

“I want to watch you come and I want to show my girl off so everyone knows how fucking beautiful she is, but…” he trails off to take a deep breath. “But you won’t do anything for me, so say no and I’ll take you home, tuck you in bed with your thousands of cushions and kiss your forehead.”

I nod my head because I know I’ll be safe and stand, pulling him with me as Zidane waits at the top of the staircase. We form a line, each of them covering me as we exit the club and Tali keeps his fingers threaded through mine while whispering his dirty thoughts into my ear.

“We’re going to stretch your pretty pussy and you’re going to fucking scream for me. Then, you’re going to come while I fuck that pretty little throat of yours.”

If Genevieve’s watching, it sells the story and it will stop me freaking out when I get home or driving around all night to make sure I’m not being followed. If she isn’t, it gives me my own story.

Vitali places his hand on my hip as we enter the cool night air, and his lips brush my ear as he darkly whispers, “And you won’t be able to fucking lie anymore. We’re going to talk when we get home, Anastasia.”

I pause at his use of home as though there’s one place that we belong together when there isn’t. The security on the doors stares at us, assessing if there’s a risk until he notices the ink on the back of Tali’s fingers and deems it unsafe for himself.

My voice hardens as I dispel any notion he has of this thing between us being more.

“We don’t have a home, I’m not your junior, and you need potty training.”

The cool night air contrasts against his rage as he pulls me into his car to drive to his apartment with Zidane following in his own car. Tali wraps his fingers above my knee, the digits digging into my muscle, and he loses some of his anger as he laughs.

“Did you like it? I was going to use body parts from the warehouse but that felt a bit too obvious.”

“And evidence of a crime,” I deadpan.

He just laughs louder and pulses his hand on my leg.

“Okay,” he says as he sits taller. “What about you holding my dick while I piss?”

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