Chapter Seven
Starling
I watch in stunned silence, a hot blush reddening my cheeks as Marco picks up my stocking—the one I filled with all the toys I bought from the Sex Saloon.
Well, they weren’t supposed to see it. But suddenly, every toy I bought transforms from an inanimate object into something dark and delicious, extraordinary and erotic. The pulse in my pussy quadruples as Marco empties the contents of my stocking onto a table.
Embarrassed and flustered, I fiddle with my hands as all three of them inspect the items on my naughty list.
I guess the butt plug is out of the bag now.
They turn their heads to look at me.
“You have to do something for us in return first,” Enzo says.
I gulp, but yet again, my mouth is way ahead of my brain.
“Anything,” I reply. The saying should be "hell hath no determination like a virgin wanting to get laid."
“Join us for Christmas Eve dinner.” The invitation comes from Dario.
“Dinner?”
“Yes,” Marco answers, glancing at his watch. “In thirty minutes, to be exact.”
“That’s it? That’s all I have to do? And then you’ll do me?”
“Yes, then we’ll do you,” Dario says, grinning as if he finds me amusing.
“Okay, fine. I guess I could eat.”
“Good,” Enzo says.
I’m startled when Dario pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of me, clumsily redressed as I am.
“What was that for?”
“As titillating as your outfit is, dinner is a formal affair, and you need to be dressed appropriately.”
Umm, do these men realize that’s not how women’s clothes work? You don’t just take a picture, and voilà, we’re dressed in formal wear.
“The bathroom is through there if you want to freshen up in the meantime,” Enzo says.
I seize the opportunity to escape them. I need to regroup and possibly re-examine my brain.
Even before the door is closed, I start to hyperventilate. Everything that’s happened to me in the last half hour bombards my senses all at once.
Trying to make sense of it is a losing battle no matter how many times I try. So, I’m just going to go with it. I have no idea how much time has passed before my thoughts finally settle, allowing me to focus on the here and now.
I splash water on my face, belatedly remembering my makeup. It’s not like I have anything to touch it up with. I’m unsure what to do about my clothes. Do I contort my body again to fit into the corset, or…
A knock on the door makes me jump.
“Ready?” Marco asks. Surprisingly, I recognize his voice without seeing him.
Ready for dinner? Ready to give up my virginity before I get engaged tomorrow?
“Can you come out here?” Enzo says.
“We have something for you,” Dario adds. I pay attention to organisms, not people so how do I know their voices through a closed door after such a short time? How am I already this in tune with them?
I open the door, eager to see what they have for me and I’m shocked.
Enzo holds up a beautiful dress in a soft, subtle red hue, the skirt floor-length and flared with tulle. The top is long-sleeved, and the bodice is made of luxurious lace and silk.
Dario carries a pair of designer stilettos in his hands, the color a darker red than the dress.
If I think Marco will complete the look with underwear, I’m wrong. Well, not so wrong that I’m on another planet, but I’m definitely in the same ballpark since the panties and what Marco is holding in his hand go to the same place.
And oh look. It matches the color of my dress because yes, Marco is holding one of the sex toys I bought from the Sex Saloon, intended for playtime with Tony—but Tony is gay, and I got his three uncles instead.
Umm, wow, Starling.
“We sent your picture to our PA, and she arranged this dress and shoes, but the toy is all yours,” Marco says. It’s almost as if they snapped their fingers, and their bidding was done. I mean, that’s exactly what they did.
I take a deep breath as they approach me. My skin ignites at their scent. They’re freshly showered, donned in tuxedos tailored to fit their magnificent physiques.
My mouth waters at the memory of their touch, and I desperately want them to kiss me again, to touch me again.
They start by removing my haphazardly pulled-on clothes, and once again, I’m naked.
I barely breathe as Marco slips his fingers between my thighs to check my wetness. I’m already wet, but against his touch, I’m now drenched.
He licks his finger while Enzo and Dario watch, then he positions the contoured red toy, the head just skimming my entrance. He ties the little ribbons attached to the toy at my hips.
Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy.
It nestles against my clit in the most provocative manner, and now it’s all I can think of.
Enzo holds my hand and leads me to step into the skirt of the dress before he pulls it up and into my arms, enclosing me inside.
It fits so well it could have been made specifically for me. What magical PA do they have that she could look at an image of me and get my size right? Not to mention her impeccable taste.
Suddenly, I wonder who this woman is. Is she young and pretty? Stunning, even? Do they like her? Does she know everything intimate about them already? Does she stand a little too close to them, inhaling their scent while she ogles them?
Why am I jealous of their PA, a woman I won’t know from a Christmas sugar cookie?
What is going on with me? Also, I have bigger problems.
I’m wearing a sex toy under a designer dress and going to dinner with three excessively handsome men.