Page 32 of Forbidden Surrogate

He stops along the edge of the dancefloor, deeply absorbed in regret over his gambling losses or maybe genuinely searching the crowd for someone. I can’t really tell.Yeah!by Usher blasts loudly on the speakers, transporting me back to a simpler time when me and my friends would watch BET music videos and desperately try to follow the choreography or create our own.

Luigi might be committed to scowling like a cranky old man the entire night, but I don’t have to join him. He didn’t have to stay in the lake house cooped up for days, so he doesn’t appreciate the infectious sense of freedom just from hearing this music at all. Involuntarily, I move my hips while Luigi “scans his perimeter”.

Finally, he exhales gruffly and tries to kill my vibe.

“I hate dancing.”

“Why?” I ask him, teasing Luigi by moving my hips and crashing into his legs. He takes a step away from me.

“It’s because you can’t dance,” I tease him. “I can tell.”

“Who says I can’t dance?”

“Your aura.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Luigi says, closing the distance between us suddenly by taking my hands and pulling me against him. “But I assure you, Delphine, I can dance.”

I regret teasing him like this if it means entering this confusing state of trying to maintain distance while ignoring the obvious craving for closeness we both feel. Luigi drops my hand before his hands wander to my waist. He touches me so gently that it almost feels like another man holding me – not this beast.

“You look even better in that dress than I thought you would,” he says. “If I indulge your dancing… I fully expect to flip that skirt up in the bathroom and take what’s mine…”

His free hand reaches over to my ass and he touches it gently, and not so long that it draws any attention, before moving hishand back up to my waist and staring into my eyes with such rapt focus that I shiver and try to move away. His grasp tightens.

“Don’t deny me, Delphine. Just…move with me.”

He bends his lips to my neck and kisses me. It’s the first sign of real affection for the night, and I suspect liquor plays a role here. I don’t think Luigi could genuinely feel this soft and tender towards me, especially not after how he treated me in the bedroom and how he plans to keep me as his personal possession for the next 39 weeks.

Reluctantly, I move alongside Luigi, letting him hold me and staying right on the beat of the music, challenging him to keep up with me. Surprising me completely, Luigi stays with the beat of the music and we move together, closer to the crowd on the dancefloor until we’re a part of it and somehow invisible from everyone but each other. His closeness intoxicates me and the illusion of anonymity on the dance floor causes me to let go just enough to wrap my arm around his neck and lean into the pretense.

I can always blame my need to lean on him on these tall ass heels. I want to hate them, but as I move alongside Luigi, I feel sexy and forced to enter this unusual state of helplessness that allows me to lean on him and let his immense masculine frame support my weight. If it wasn’t a freaky sex contract, if this were a real moment between me and an attractive Italian-American man… I could get used to this.

But it isn’t real. It’s just dancing to play a part and it’s my fault for challenging this man to move his hips. I expected him to be awkward and turn me off completely, but I just want him closer. Even if it feels like such a foolish thing to want – I just want him closer.

Luigi’s hips move with mine and I lose myself in the rhythm of the music, reassured that he can keep up with my pace and stay on beat with the song. It doesn’t take long for our bodymovements to get Luigi stiff. He presses his crotch against my ass and as we sway together, I can feel his dick getting harder against me. His grasp on me tightens and then I feel his nose and lips buried in the crook of my neck. A surprising gush spreads between my legs.

I feel too invisible in the middle of the dance floor to care. Nothing could drag me out of this hypnotic state of bliss except Luigi’s next words, “I’m going to fuck you in the bathroom. There’s a private door right before the poker room. Come. Now.”

His fingers interlace with mine.

I can either follow Luigi or break away from him and get lost in the crowd on a night when I'm pretty sure these mobsters are here to kill someone. Or stop a killing. It's pretty hard to tell from the outside, but if I see someone pull out a gun, I'm taking my glasses off and throwing them away from me as far as I can.

No way in hell I'm testifying for or against the mob. I have big enough problems with Luigi. If he takes me into that bathroom and cums inside me again, I won't have the comfort of denial and telling myself this early pregnancy test could be a false positive.

I'll have to come to terms with a repeat event and another roller coaster of emotions as I cope with what it really means that I signed this crazy ass contract with a mobster.

I can barely recall the layout of this nightclub, but the noise dampens and the crowd thins, so I can stand closer to Luigi and by doing so, convince him to loosen his grip on my hands. It only works a little. Luigi slides his hand along the wall until his fingers arrive at a barely perceptible groove. He twists his fingers into the groove and a small door thrusts open.

It's a bathroom that doesn't smell like piss and vomit. That doesn't mean I want to fuck this giant in there but... Luigi's large hand moves to my ass and he squeezes my butt until I squeal and jump forward straight into his secret trap.

The giant Italian man's body follows soon after and he shuts the door, testing the limits of the cramped private bathroom by trying to fit us both in there. We can't really move. I turn around in an effort to talk sense into Luigi and end up with my palms pressed against his chest just to keep minimal distance between us. He likes this.

Blue lighting barely illuminates the room, but it's enough to make his eyes look evil, clear, and terrifying. Luigi shifts his hips forward, pressing his hard dick against me with persistent lust that fights desperately against my efforts to push him away.

"What's wrong?" he says. "You're already going to have my baby. Just turn around and let me have a piece of that ass..."

He talks in a low, gravely voice that melts me in place.

"I can't do that," I respond as Luigi presses against me, sending a shiver straight through me as his dick thumps against my thigh.

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