Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
ADELINA
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded as Sas punched the button repeatedly for the elevator.
Everyone was watching us. Their eyes bored into my back.
Where was my father to see what he’d signed me up for?
Sure, I wanted it now. That much had been apparent with the way my pussy throbbed and wept since Sas gave me that tiny orgasm during Papà’s toast. Why the fuck was I lying to myself? My pussy had been throbbing for more since Sas made me come so hard that I saw stars.
I had learned a lot about myself through losing my virginity, giving into the primal desires and the odd thoughts my mind had come up with over the years. Even now, I wanted more.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Sas and I were inside before anyone could stop us, and he punched the button to close the doors. One of the capos’ wives—Donna Marino, I thought—came scurrying over, trying to catch a ride downstairs.
But when Sas glared at her and literally growled, she backed away, saying, “I’ll catch the next.”
I gave her an apologetic shrug, but I really didn’t want her in here either.
Finally, the elevator closed and started falling. But, as soon as the doors sealed themselves shut, Sas grabbed the back of my neck roughly and pushed me against the wall.
“Sas?”
“Hush!”
His fingers wove into my hair, freeing it from the updo. Damn, he really liked my hair.
“It’s a dangerous game to a dress like this and have those lips painted so prettily red.” He dragged his hand down my body, palming my breast and then stomach as he went, only to pass over the flared skirt and drag his rough palm up my thigh.
“Then again, princess, I’m a dangerous man.”
I wriggled under him. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.” He hooked his finger into my panties and pulled until I heard the delicate material rip.
“Those were expensive,” I said, but I really didn’t care.
Anticipation slipped through me as I squirmed against the cool metal of the elevator wall. The handrail dug into my lower back. What was another bruise? My tattoo was covered by the dress I wore, one that Mamà picked out so Papà wouldn’t have a heart attack at the rehearsal dinner.
I, however, didn’t think my father would notice or care. I mean, he didn’t care enough to speak to me all night either. I wanted to wonder if this had something to do with the diamonds, but then my senses took over and I wasn’t thinking much of anything as Sas reached around my ass and slid his finger down my slit.
Immediately, my hips bucked.
“You’re drenched, princess,” cooed Sas, smirking. “Or should I call you Lina ?”
I gasped but gave no answer. I hated to admit I liked my childhood nickname falling from his lips.
“Is this wetness all from thinking about me?” he growled in my ear.
“No,” I lied.
“Graff then?”
I squirmed again, and he stepped back, pushed me over to the wall with no handrail, and pressed his body against mine. My back now lay flat against the mirrors. With his height and weight bearing down on me, I couldn’t move. He bent his head, and his hot breath brushed across my forehead.
“Don’t lie to me, Princess Lina,” he warned.
“You want me to admit it was Graff?” I asked breathlessly.
“If that’s the truth.” He moved his head, breathing raggedly in my ear. He wasn’t even moving his hand, but I let out a small whimper. “Your body says it wants me too.”
I was becoming putty in his hands and arguments I could toss back faltered on my tongue. “Believe what you want.”
“I do.” He smirked. “I’m thinking I should list off every guy and see which ones you would be a whore for.”
“And if I’m a whore for them all?” I challenged him.
“I should give them a piece of you,” he said. “My brothers can take turns while I watch. How many cocks do you want in your mouth? Between your tits. In your cunt. Here?” He slipped up my backside and pressed against the pucker.
I whined.
While it didn’t feel as good as his cock in my sheath had, it awoke another craving. He was right, damn him. I had been horny all night, and the episode during Papà’s toast only made me want more. I had to stop myself from rubbing against my seat cushion at dinner or excusing myself to the restroom to give myself another bit of relief. The rest of the night, I had been standing and avoiding any movement that would send the slightest sensation into my core.
He kept one finger against my back entrance and stretched his hand to slip a different finger inside me, and when I tried to move, he pushed me harder against the wall. I could barely breathe.
“Don’t fucking move,” he ordered.
“Sas,” I whined.
“ Don’t make a sound.”
“But—”
“If you’re good”—he glared at me—“I’ll fuck you with my finger. I’ll use both holes until I have to cover your mouth, so you don’t alert all of Vegas that you’re fucking coming. Do you want that?”
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
The hot need took over my body, and I turned into nothing but hormones, hot blood, and chemicals ready to detonate.
“You can play the whore for me all you want, Adelina, but you don’t come until I give the order.”
I gulped, unsure I could hold my orgasm at bay. I was so desperately close now.
Still, another part of me was trying to speak up. I wasn’t his bitch or his wife—not until tomorrow, at least—and I wouldn’t answer to him. But my pussy... it fucking answered for me, clenching against his fingers like it hoped to suck him all up inside of me. It wanted it.
I wanted him so much.
Just give whatever you want! I felt the desperate plea on the tip of my tongue.
But my body’s response was answer enough. He stretched me slowly, and his long finger pushed deeper into me and retreated. Then he added a second. Pleasure inched through my veins, from my toes to my fingertips, and all the way into my addled brain.
“So, so eager,” he cooed.
I tried to think about anything except the pressure in my pussy and the long strokes.
And failed.
He added a third finger and penetrated me all the way to his palm. His thumb crashed against my clit, and pleasure made me hunch into him.
He paused.
Fuck.
I closed my eyes, trying to ward off the pleasure. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t make a sound. Couldn’t come. What the fuck could do I? I wanted to demand my orgasm. Beg for it. I wanted to yell at him. Pull him closer. Push him away!
Instead, I did nothing but breathe until the temptation to explode lessened. Sas moved his finger again.
The elevator descended, and I was running out of time. And he moved at a snail’s pace until suddenly, he paused and waited. I didn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. And then he thrust his fingers deep and fast into me, hidden under the skirt of my dress.
“Good princess,” he murmured before stepping back, exposing me to the camera in the corner as he fingerfucked me.
He had lifted my skirt, and my pussy was on display for anyone who watched. It would get back to my father. How could it not? The capos and the guards and whoever else would watch it, and they would know I was a whore.
Did I care?
Not in the slightest.
All I wanted was an orgasm.
The elevator came to a slow stop. I ran out of time. I didn’t get to come.
Sas withdrew his hand from inside of me, and I released the breath I had been holding, almost falling in the process. My legs were melting beneath me. He smoothed down my dress and laced his wet fingers with mine.
I glared daggers at him, pissed the fuck off that he’d toyed with me like that.
“Don’t worry, princess. We’re not done.”
When the elevator doors opened, he pulled me out.
Based on how Sas led me through my family’s hotel and casino, I would’ve thought that he had grown up here. He didn’t look over his shoulder or second guess himself as he dragged me through the hotel and then into the women’s lounge and restroom off to the corner. I couldn’t follow his train of thought when I was this sexually frustrated and just overall pissed off at him for not letting me orgasm.
I had been a good girl. But then again, he said he’d fingerfuck me, not that he would let me fall over that edge.
“Anyone here?” Sas called into the lounge, his voice echoing back to the restroom.
It was late, and no one was in this area of the casino. So I didn’t expect anyone in this restroom now. Anyone still awake would probably be sitting at a slot machine.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” I told Sas.
“That’s the plan, princess.” He winked at me and then called out again, “I’m going to fuck a princess in here.”
Anger washed through me, but it quickly dissipated when I finally understood what he had said. The anticipation was already building inside me again, and I rubbed my thighs together like I did when I was young and scared to touch myself. Those orgasms were nothing like what Sas could do to me.
Or Graff.
Dropping my hand, Sas pulled a lounge chair in front of the door, barricading us inside. When we turned back to me, he was wearing that sly half smile again. It was lazy but keen. I was starting to learn that smile. It’s the one he wore when he was cooking up something torturous and lustful. And fuck, I was almost to the point I could get wet just at the sight of it.
He dragged his eyes across me, undressing me. Damn whoever might walk in. I reached for the zipper on my dress.
“Stop,” he said.
I released a small, strained groan, and his smirk broadened into a wolfish grin. I wasn’t even sure what deep recesses within me had stimulated that desperate sound. It was like an animal curled up within me and wanted to be released.
“What, princess?” he mocked. “You don’t like my orders? Or is it that you don’t like taking them?”
I flashed my eyes up at him. “You lied.”
“I didn’t.” He put his hand against my shoulder and pushed me back to the wall, just like he had had me in the elevator. He slid his hand down my dress, pressing against my hip bone before slipping his hand underneath again.
A shudder ran down my spine, but I tried not to move. Not to speak. This was just the game we were playing in the elevator. He pressed his fingertips against my inner thigh and then dragged his knuckles up. I was already so wet my juices were streaming down my leg.
“You don’t get to come,” he said.
I shook my head. “Then you don’t get to touch my pussy.”
He ducked his head, anger curling his lip. “You. Do not. Get to. Come.”
I put my hands against his chest, trying to push him back, but I couldn’t move him. “Then what do I get out of it?”
He curled his finger and ran the knuckle down the side of my face. “Is me not enough?”
“No.”
He worked his jaw, like he was thinking, and he finally said, “Fine, princess. You get something and then I get something. A little tit-for-tat.”
My heartbeat ran wild to the point it might explode from my chest, splattering blood across me and him. It might finally wipe that fucking challenging smile off his face. If he wanted me to cower to him like the bunnies, the bastard had another thing coming.
I wouldn’t lower myself like that, but who the fuck was I kidding? If a whore was what enjoyed fucking, I was indeed a whore. Every part of me, and worse... even the word made my pussy clench.
“Fine,” I muttered through clenched teeth, unable to deny that I needed to be full of him. That I craved the rough fuck he promised.
Sas bent toward me, the fluorescent light creating a halo around his head. He was anything but an angel, but the orgasm I might have after all this teasing would surely send me straight to heaven.
Or hell.
Shit. I would walk through both if it meant I got to come.
“Besides an orgasm, what do you want?” he asked.
So much.
“Everything,” I breathed.
Where was Graff when I needed him? He had been there last time, and I just expected him to be here now and always.
“Your name,” I said.
He jerked his head back like I had slapped him. He probably would’ve taken the blow better than the ask for his name. Papà knew it, maybe. He’d called him Simeon before, but that didn’t come from Sas.
“My name?” he asked like the word tasted bitter.
His pink tongue darted out, and I wanted it on my pussy.
“Yes,” I said, straightening up, denying myself now. “I know it isn’t Sas. Or Sasquatch.”
“So you don’t like Sasquatch?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely-not.”
“It’s fitting, though. Yeah? Because I’m tall?”
“Because it says you’re a monster.”
“I am a monster.” He shrugged.
I eyed him. Sas was many things, and at one time, I would’ve thought he was a monster. I knew better.
“You’re not,” I murmured.
Throwing back his head, he laughed. “Careful what you wish for, princess.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and jutted my hip. “What does that mean?”
“It means my name is Simeon Tate.” Then he stepped back, holding out his hands.
“What’s wrong with that name?” I asked.
I liked it, though I wasn’t sure if it fit him. It was certainly better than Sasquatch. And Tate would be my last name someday.
Adelina Tate. Kind of boring. Very abrupt. It was missing a flare, but I guessed Simeon made up for it.
“It’s not me.” He backed all the way across the room. “My turn.”
He had that devilish look back in his eyes, and it usually meant he was about to become a royal pain in my ass. My problem now was that the look also sent a thrill through me. My knees quaked, and my breath hitched in my throat.
“For what?” I asked.
“The tit-for-tat.” He rubbed his hands together. “You got an answer. Now I want something.”
“As long as it’s not an orgasm,” I dryly reminded him.
He smiled broadly. “Trust me, I’m not the one who needs to come.”
I stiffened, unsure where this was going. It left me scared, especially as he pointed the forefinger that had once been inside me to the floor.
“Crawl to me,” he said.
“Crawl?” I asked, like I didn’t quite hear him because, well . . . what the fuck did he just say? “That’s not tit-for-tat. I just asked you a question.”
“Crawl to me,” he repeated. “Like the good princess you are.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t fucking doing that. I wasn’t a baby. Or his bitch. I started for the door but knew I wouldn’t be able to escape easily. I had to move a fucking lounge chair out of the way, and he would stop me.
“If you walk out that door,” he threatened, “you’ll never come again. Not from me. Graff. Or any brother in the MC.”
Looking down, I considered it and weighed my options. I was crazy for even thinking about this. And especially for lowering to my knees with my hands flat on the floor. The skirt of my dress flaring even more. Immediately, the rough carpet dug into my shins.
Sas slapped his thighs, calling me over like a dog as he said, “Come on. Come get your orgasm.”
Yes, my orgasm. I wanted to come, and I wanted him to make me. With each step—hand and knee, hand and knee—my thighs rubbed against one another. Friction slipped across my swollen pussy lips and my clit. I could’ve come now, but when I glanced up at Sas from under my eyelashes, I really knew I would never come on his cock or fingers if I orgasmed now.
I swallowed and focused on the pattern on the carpet. When I stopped at his feet, I raised my head to face him, and Sas reached down and brushed my hair behind my ear. I waited for him to pat me on my head like a proper bitch.
“What do you want now?” he asked.
“My orgasm,” I said without a second thought.
“So needy.”
Having done what he demanded, I tried to push up to my feet. And the ass put his hand on my head, keeping me down. I clenched my jaw. What did the bastard want from me now?
“Take off your dress,” he said.
“You said it was my turn,” I replied through clenched teeth.
“Do you want your orgasm or not?” He tilted his head to the side. “Unless you want something else? Maybe my social security number?”
“Will you make me crawl across the floor again?”
“No. I’ll make you take off your dress.”
“Why?”
“I want to see your body.” He leaned down, bending straight at the hips. “I didn’t get a good view of it last time.”
“You got a better view of me than I did of you.”
“Are you saying you want to be blindfolded again?”
“I want an orgasm.”
“Have it your way, princess.”
“I will—” But my breath was cut off as he curled his fingers into my hair and wrenched me backward.
In a flash, he had my skirt hiked up to my thighs. I gasped as he shoved his finger deep inside of me. It was so long, it hit every part of me. How did he manage to get in so deep?
I gasped as the second finger joined the first.
With his other hand, Sas let go of my hair and grabbed me around the waist, lifting me, positioning me so he could get even deeper. How was that possible?
He went to his knees and rested the backs of my thighs on the front of his. He plunged his fingers deep and hard and fast into me. He beat his knuckles against my clit. Fuck, I was so close to orgasming.
“Do you want to come, princess?”
It wasn’t a want, but a need. A fuse burning all the way to the bomb and about to detonate. I nodded, not trusting my words.
“Come, princess.” He slipped a third finger into me, and my pussy stretched.
I arched my back, my pussy aching, but I didn’t want him to stop. He fucked me hard and fast with his fingers.
“You gonna come, princess?” he asked.
I nodded, wheezing through my clenched teeth. He never slowed how he drove his fingers into me. He kept such a rapid pace, punching my clit in the process. Pain slid over me, numbed by the pleasure that sent me falling back against the dingy lounge floor and screaming my orgasm to the tiled ceiling.
Sas didn’t stop. Never slowed. His fucking didn’t falter.
His fingers scraped my womb, and I was sure he would draw blood. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted.
But that was my last thought as another wave of pleasure crashed hard into me.