Page 49 of Filthy Little Games

Without hesitation, Zara lifts the tee up and over her head, revealing her perfect, heavy breasts. Why the hell didn’t I have her get naked for me last night? I could’ve watched them jiggle with every orgasm.

“I need to devour those big, beautiful tits of yours first,” I warn her as I run my palms up both of her legs.

Squeezing her breasts together, Zara asks, “Only after you finish on them.”

“Only after I finish on them?” I repeat, surprised by her ballsy demand and loving the challenge all at the same time. “You think covering them in my own cum would stop me from sucking those titties dry?”

“Would it?”

“Hell no.”

“Then prove it.”

“Spread your legs,” I order her, knowing eating her pussy will have me ready to explode in no time.

Sliding her legs up from where I’m straddling them, she bends her knees and opens them wide, holding on to her ankles. While Ienjoy having her thighs clamp down on the sides of my head, this way will work just fine.

Lying on my stomach, I slip my palms underneath her ass cheeks to lift her pelvis and dig into the delicious buffet before me.

Zara

Creed doesn’t seem too concerned about Emilio’s little meeting, so I’m trying not to worry about it either. It’s nearly impossible to worry about anything after he went down on me, getting me off three times before he sprayed his release on my breasts and then licked them clean.

It was the single hottest thing I’ve ever done to make this beautiful, dangerous man taste himself after pleasuring me, while all I had to do was lie back and watch him.

The blissed-out state combined with the intoxicating sense of control over the mobster is definitely going to my head.

I like having him at my mercy more than I should.

I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire ride back to the city. Thankfully, we’re in a brand-new SUV Creed rented to drive us back while leaving the garbage one in the garage to deal with later.

I’m yet again wearing nothing but another one of his suit jackets, since my dress was smelly, and Creed said a tee would be too revealing for me to wear on its own in public.

Soon we’re going to have to talk about letting me pick up some of my clothes.

“Lorenzo is going to stay with you tonight,” Creed tells me as we slow down for a stoplight near his building.

Well, that brings me back down to Earth.

“I need a babysitter?”

“It’s for your own protection in case things go badly at Emilio’s,” he says without looking at me, and we both know it’s a lie.

It doesn’t matter how many orgasms Creed Ferraro gave me last night or this morning — I think it was eight in total — he still doesn’t trust me.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says in the long silence. Reaching over to take my hand, he kisses my knuckle right above the diamond ring and wedding band. “It’s nothing personal. I just can’t afford to trust the wrong people. There are too many lives at stake.”

“I can’t tell anyone what happened without screwing myself over,” I remind him.

“I’m well aware of that, so make my life easier by not giving me any reason not to trust you,” Creed says before releasing my hand. “In fact, I’ll put this call on speaker for you to hear.” The light is still red when he pulls out his phone and calls someone, letting me hear it ring.

“A little busy here, boss,” a man answers.

“Just need a few minutes, Roscoe,” Creed snaps back.

“Hold on.” There’s some rustling on the other line before he returns. “I guess you heard about Izaiah Rovina?”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on?”

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