Page 34 of The Enforcer

“Can you get me something else?” I whine.

“Of course. Anything.”

Those three words make my already wet pussy shudder. “In my suitcase,” I say. “There’s a gray cloth bag on the right-hand side.”

He nods quickly and moves to the foot of my bed.

I hear him rummaging in my bag. I hear when he finds what I’ve sent him to get, and he realizes what it is.

“Merda,” he hisses.

I moan.

He groans.

I hear him walk back around the bed to stand beside me, his steps much less hurried.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, the familiar rough virgin cotton of the bag I use to transport my travel toys against my fingers.

I grab onto it and feel the blunt, spongy tip of a toy I plan to wear out sooner than later. And yet, Alfonso asks me that question in a deeper voice than I’ve heard from him before. It’s deep enough to make my already pulsing pussy throb.

“Is this what you need?”

Oh. The way he asks that question is delicious, and if I’d had another glass of wine, I might have taken him up on the offer in his tone.

But I’m not that drunk. I pull the bag from his hand. “Close the door when you leave, please.”

He’s silent for a few seconds, and then he grunts.

My clit jumps at that sound. I’m almost sad when he turns around and walks from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

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