Page 77 of Use Me, Daddy

I needed release.

More than anything though, I needed him to come back and then I needed his cock.

I didn’t even care which hole he fucked.

My mouth, my ass, or my sopping wet pussy.

I just needed him.

CHAPTER 22

Aleksei

I took a moment, sitting on the couch in my living room and staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the twinkling lights of the city below. It was quite beautiful, especially at night.

Amy’s cries still echoed from my bedroom, the sweetest music, her screams a symphony of pain and pleasure. I could just imagine her body writhing and trembling as she fought against the constant teasing vibrations.

It had taken every ounce of self-control not to fuck her before I left that room. Her soaking wet little pussy had beckoned me, and it took every bit of my will power not to bury my cock deep inside her, to feel her heat and her wetness envelop me.

To take her, hard and fast, and give her exactly what she needed.

But more than anything, she needed to be punished. Today she was going to learn exactly what it meant to be mine, which included punishments when she did something naughty likethink about stepping into a dangerous situation without me by her side.

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly, letting the tension flow out of me. My mind raced, a mix of pride and frustration, and a part of me was tempted to go back in there and skip the rest of her punishment just so I could fuck her. I smiled to myself, my cock stiffening at the thought of it.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

First, I had a few phone calls to make.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts. There were a few numbers that would be useful, people who might have some information on Leonardo Santini. I could start with my brothers, and then reach out to my allies and see what they had on the man.

I dialed Ivan first. If anyone could dig up something on Santini, it would be him.

The line clicked, and Ivan’s voice came through, calm and analytical as always. “Aleksei. What do you need?”

“Leonardo Santini. Italian, cash buyer, connected to the art scene. I need to know who he is, what he’s about, and if there’s anything unusual about his business.”

There was a pause on the other end before Ivan spoke again, his tone sharper now. “Santini? I’ve heard the name. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll find out everything you need to know.”

“Make it five minutes, no more than that,” I replied, my tone firm. “And make sure it’s thorough. Anything that ties him to the Orlovs, I want to know.”

Ivan chuckled lightly. “Always so demanding, brother. Fine. You’ll have it soon.”

Next, I called Sergei. While Ivan could dig through data and connections, Sergei had a way of knowing who was moving in Boston’s shadows. His instincts were rarely wrong.

“Da?” Sergei’s voice was curt, direct as usual.

“Do you know the name Leonardo Santini?” I asked, pacing my office as I spoke.

There was a short grunt of acknowledgment. “Italian buyer. Deals mostly in high-value art. Keeps his business quiet, but there’s chatter that he’s more than just a collector. Why?”

“I need to know if he’s clean or if there’s more to him.”

Sergei’s laugh was low and humorless. “Clean? In this business? I’ll ask around, see who’s spoken to him recently. But don’t trust anyone who’s too eager with cash. It always comes with strings.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Let me know what you hear.”

By the time Ivan called me back, I was standing by the window, staring out at the city as the sun dipped below the horizon. His tone was brisk, all business. “I’ve got something on Santini. He’s not directly tied to the Orlovs, but he’s been seen at several of their events. Quietly. Nothing public.”

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