My hand slipped into my panties. “Yes,” I moaned.
“Rub your clit,” he urged, his voice rough. I followed his instructions, rubbing the wetness over my nub faster and faster. My pulse raced, my heart drummed against my ribs, the coiled pleasure like a hot lava in my stomach.
“Oh, Hunter,” I panted. “I’m so wet. I ache for you.”
“That’s right, Vita Mia,” he murmured, the sound of his own pumping coming over the phone. It was fucking hot. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned, my heart thundering. My mouth parted, my breathing erratic. “So good. Your hard cock is in my pussy. Stretching me. It feels so good.” I licked my lips, remembering how his cum felt on my lips. “I want to taste your cum on my tongue.”
A guttural sound echoed through the phone, the rhythmic sound in sync with my own fingers thrusting in and out of my pussy.
“You feel me,” he breathed hard. “I’m pushing my fingers into your wet pussy. Stretching you.”
“Ahhh, yes.” I was losing my mind, my fingers thrusting in and out. In and out. “Please. Oh fuck!”
His groans were only turning me on more. Heat shot straight to my core, a blazing pleasure spreading through my body.
“Hunter, please,” I begged. “I want your cock inside me.”
“Fuck, Vita Mia. I want that too.” My grunting matched his, my moans pitched higher and higher. I thrashed against the sheet, every inch of my body hypersensitive. I was right at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump off and lose myself into white-hot pleasure.
“Hunter, I’m coming,” I moaned, my core throbbing. God, my fingers would never be enough now that I had his cock inside me. “Hunter, please. Oh, God. Yes, yes. Yes.”
“Fuck, yes,” his grunt echoed through the phone, rough and loud. “Come for me, Vita Mia.”
My body exploded, a million stars shot behind my eyelids as languid heat spread to my toes, and my head buzzed with intense pleasure. My body shuddered as an orgasm rolled through me like waves over the ocean while I chanted Hunter’s name. Over and over again.
Through the lust infused fog, I heard my name on Hunter’s lips and it made the pleasure even better.
As my breathing slowed, the room came back into focus along with the man on the other end of the line.
“Fuck, Butterfly,” he murmured. “I wish I could have seen your face as you finished.”
My cheeks heated. “FaceTime sex next time,” I murmured softly, feeling sated.
His soft chuckle had me melting. “Definitely,” he agreed. “I haven’t done phone sex nor FaceTime sex before, but I could get used to this.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “I haven’t either,” I admitted. “But I like it. Although not as much as the real thing.”
“Soon,” he promised.
ChapterTwenty
CASSIO
Poker night.
It was usually entertaining, but today, I found it to be slightly agitating. It had been a whole week since Nico gave me an information dump on Áine and The Rose Rescue. After speaking with her three nights ago, I knew it to be true. She must have been on one of her missions, somewhere in fucking Russia. I knew where she was thanks to Nico.
The possibility of Áine running a search and rescue type of mission in all corners of the world didn’t sit well with me. The irrational fear that something could happen to her at any moment was sending an icy rush of panic through my veins.
Of course, it did nothing to help me win the poker game.
I sat around the table with Nico, Alessio, Luca, Luciano, Sasha, and Alexei. It was our regular monthly boys’ poker night. Sasha was a recent addition to our card table, but nonetheless fierce and loyal. Though reckless as fuck. It was these men around this table who I trusted with my life. Luca was my brother by blood and the others were by choice. My loyalty to my friends wasn’t any less than to my brother. I knew the same to be true for them.
Most of us went years back. Luciano to my childhood. Nico and Alessio to college years. Alexei right after. Raphael right around that time. We all just clicked. Whether we shared similar tragedies or the same cause, we stood by each other.
Less than a decade ago, Nico, Luciano, Luca, and I found ourselves in Moscow. To get one of our own out of that fucking country- Alexei Nikolaev. Of course, back then he was just Alexei. The scars that man endured still fucking gutted me. Whether it was the fact that it happened shortly after Luca and I saved the young girl with shattered blue eyes or whether we reached a tipping point, I didn’t know. But that night, as we drank cheap liquor, revealed scars we all carried, and wished for a better life, we formed a pact.