2
Sebastiano
Neon lights refract off of the mirrored ceiling at Diavolo - the newly acquired and completely legal club, adding to the growing Morelli business profile. The dance floor teems with a crowd of bodies dancing, sweat glistening on their skin as the heavy beat of “Or Nah” remix by Ty Dolla $ign vibrates from the speakers surrounding the DJ booth. It’s only 10:30 p.m. and we’re almost at capacity. Despite the fact it’s forty-two degrees out, scantily clad women make up more than half of the crowd. Women who are so damn desperate for a man’s attention and affection that they strut around wearing next to nothing in the frigid Chicago weather. They dance like they belong on a pole, hoping to snag an invite to the VIP section on some wealthy man’s arm.
Two of my men are stationed on either side of the entrance, acting as bouncers, only adding to the air of exclusivity this place exudes. You never know when someone will act stupid enough to try to grab a piece of the Morelli empire, so all of our properties are heavily guarded.
The main floor is an explosion of LED screens, each projecting a kaleidoscope of visuals that pulse along with the dynamic beats that reverberate throughout the space. Strobe lights flash, casting a hypnotic glow over the mass of bodies swaying to the music. The DJ booth is the focal point, perched high above the crowd, commanding the energy with pulsating tunes.
I make a beeline to my office, avoiding the lingering bodies that have strayed away from the crowd. The upstairs office is like a hidden gem, overlooking the whole club and allowing me access to see the people who come and go.
Pushing open the door, the sight of the leggy blonde cocktail waitress, whom I recently hired, leaning against my desk sends a flush of annoyance at hiring her in the first place through my body. We had our fun, but my office has a no-loitering rule unless I say so. Just because we fucked doesn’t automatically garner her special privileges.
“Why are you in my office?” I huff, slamming the door behind me.
Her shoulders tense, her body jolting as she tries to control the fear swirling in her bright green eyes. “I was hoping to see you,” she purrs, stepping forward and placing a hand on my bicep. “You left so suddenly this morning… I missed you.” Her voice grows more assertive with the latter as if she’s so sure of her feelings.
This chick came in here with one thing on her mind, and I’d be stupid not to play along.
“I had things to do,” I respond dismissively, shrugging her hand away and stepping around her.
“And now?” She looks up at me, batting her thickly coated lashes and sticking out her bottom lip.
I cock an eyebrow at her, folding my arms across my chest. “And now you’re still in my space, uninvited.”
Her breath hitches, eyes rounding in a moment of panic as this pans out differently than she expected. “Oh, uhm, I’m sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you?”
God, this woman is too easy to manipulate. I almost feel bad for using her like this. Almost. “How do you think you can do that?”
“What would you like me to do?” Her voice shifts back to that shrill tone that sets my teeth on edge.
“Undress,” I spit, fingers curling around my belt buckle, eager to get my dick wet.
She tugs at the ribbon on her shoulder, the red scrap of fabric that can barely be classified as a dress pooling at her feet. My dick starts to harden behind the confines of my boxer briefs at the sight of her white lace bra and matching thong.
“All of it,” I growl. “I want you bare and on your knees.”
Reaching her arms behind her, she lets the strapless bra fall to the floor as she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her thong and slides the skimpy material down her thighs, carefully stepping out one leg at a time.
She sinks to her knees, lithe fingers reaching for the zipper of my slacks.
Smirking, I watch as she tugs down my boxer briefs, eyes widening as my cock bobs in front of her face.
Her brightly painted lips part as she leans forward, flicking her tongue over the tip of my cock.
“That’s it, Sara,” I praise, lacing my fingers in her bleach blonde locks and directing her mouth down my shaft, “fill that pretty mouth with this dick.” She leans back, my grip loosening. I won’t force her. I’m an asshole, not a monster.
She licks her lips, spit stringing from her chin, “It’s Stephanie.”
Fuck, I’m bad with names.
“That”s what I said.”
Stephanieopens her mouth to protest, and I take that opportunity to snap my hips, thrusting past her pouty lips. This is why I only do casual. I don”t have time to talk about or consider feelings. Just suck my dick and move on.
If she’s genuinely bothered by my slip of words, she doesn’t show it. Instead, like the eager bitch she is, she relaxes her throat and goes back to attempting to please me.
I groan, my head falling back as she teases the ridge of my cock head before suctioning her cheeks tighter. Her hand wraps around me, falling into sync with her mouth, sliding up and down my shaft in a steady rhythm.
With hooded eyes, she glances up at me. I cradle her face, stroking my thumb across her cheek and give her a nod of approval. Her mouth feels so good around me, but she’s really taking her time, and time is not something I’m looking to spend with her.
My fingers lace into her hair, holding her head in place as I thrust forward, hitting the back of her throat. Tears well in her eyes as she gags around my dick, her hands gripping my thighs as I use her mouth to chase my release.
I feel myself slowly reaching my climax, and I have no desire to bring her pleasure. Commanding her to play with herself, she hums her response, which sends an enjoyable vibration down my shaft, only pushing me closer to the edge.
Stephanie slips a hand down her tight body, fingers sliding between the folds of her pussy, and her eyes roll back as she teases herself.
It”s evident from our last encounter she isn’t a virgin, and the sex was fine, but it”s clear I’m not the only one she’s coming on to. Just the other night, I saw one of the bartenders bending her over a crate of domestic beer. But I don’t care about that. In fact, good for him. The last thing I want, let alone need, is for someone like her to get so comfortable around me that they’d actively seek me out. Stephanie did just that, so after she swallows my load, I’m not going to give her the time of day. Hell, she’ll be lucky to keep this job.
My balls start to tighten, tingles spreading at the base of my spine as her tongue traces circles around the head of my cock. With one hard thrust, I find my release, shooting ropes of cum down her throat.
“That’s it, Stephanie, swallow it down. Be a good little slut and suck me clean now.”
I release my grip, letting her suck me dry while she continues playing with her pussy, chasing her own release. When she finally pops off, I tuck away my softening cock and draw the zipper up my slacks and fasten my belt. I kick the scrap of fabric she calls a dress in her direction as I step around my desk, taking a seat in the leather chair.
“Leave.”
“What?” Her mouth hangs open in surprise as she presses to her feet.
“Get out of my office.” I do little to hide the annoyance in my voice as she quickly dresses.
The slutty heels clip across the tile floor, and when she reaches for the door handle, I call out for her.
“Yes?” she chirps, hope lacing her eyes as she swivels her head to meet my gaze.
“Don’t you ever come into my fucking office again, got it?”
Her features fall, shoulders sagging in dejection as she twists the handle and pulls the door open.
With a pained look on her face, she bows her head. “Yes, Sir,” she says softly before stepping into the hall, the door snapping shut behind her.