INICIAR SESIÓNGiannaBraide and Dmitry are sitting in the living room when I come downstairs and the specific quality of their silence tells me they have been talking about something neither of them is going to repeat.I look between them. "Should I be worried?""No," they both say. At the same time. Which is somehow more alarming than if only one of them had said it.Dmitry stands the second I reach the bottom stairs, not in a rush though. Just rising slowly like gravity adjusted itself around me arriving in the room. Which is something I've relatively noticed him doing lately. He hands me a coffee without being asked. I inhale, letting the sweet aroma fill my senses before taking a sip.I don’t care what anyone says—mocha is coffee, and the best kind of coffee.The almond milk and dark chocolate melt across my tongue, and I shut my eyes, holding back a moan.The perfect combination.I feel both men’s gaze burning through my skin, nearly making me choke on the coffee. Shit. There's no need to be
Braide Family issues? What family issues? I want to slap my face and finally focus on what's right in front of me. But how can I even do that? I lost my senses the second her fingers dabbed in spirit brushed past my nostrils. She was touching herself. I'm certain of that, I smelt her juices from the minute I hugged her. Sure I wanted to rattle Dmitry's feathers after Rhonda came home in tears but seeing her wrapped in a silk robe, hair in a bonnet and her pretty eyes on me. Not Dmitry, me. It struck a possessive nerve in me and I needed her in my arms. Now, sitting across from her watching those intense eyes egging me to continue my supposed plea for help I can't help but curse myself. I'm sure jealous of Dmitry Orlov. He gets her whenever he wants and yet…“Aren't you going to say something?” She asks, snapping my attention back to her. And I scratch the back of my head. Right. Family issues. Roxanne? Rhonda? She hates Rhonda a ton, so she wouldn't give a shit about her and
Gianna There's no sign of Dmitry when I wake up, not like I expected him to be on his knees with a cup of coffee in hand. That'd be asking for too darn much from pretty boy— Dmitry Orlov. I swing my legs off the bed, wincing slightly as I stand. My asshole still hurts from the sex last night and my legs feel so heavy. I need to start rethinking my decision to experiment shit, I mean for the time being it's a fun idea but practically? Hell no. I grab my robe from the chair and slip it on quickly, tying it tighter then head to the bathroom but I stop right in front of the mirror. Shit, did I look this much of a mess when I went downstairs last night? I groan, my face heating up as angry spots on my skin meets my eyes. I'll kill Dmitry. Bury him or maybe burn him alive. I think Tamer can help with that… my eyes widen, Tamer! I scamper back to my bed, searching for my phone. I need to confirm that I didn't send the video to him. My fingers clasp the device and I make the c
GiannaI see red. Pure unadulterated red fury. That’s all I feel. That’s all I can think of as I watch her arms around him.Because why the fuck is she here?Rhonda’s arms cross around Dmitry, pulling him close like she belongs there, like she didn’t just disappear and now suddenly gets to touch him again. Whispering something in his ear that makes his features go taut.My stomach twists in disappointment, my first thought is to grab her by the hair and drag her across the hall and out the house… hell, out the building.My second thought?To run.To walk away like I didn’t see shit. Like I always do.But I’m tired of that.Tired of running. Tired of pretending things don’t get to me when they clearly do.I clear my throat. They both jolt, pulling away from each other so fast it’s almost embarrassing—like kids caught stealing.It nearly makes me laugh.Nearly.“Gianna,” Dmitry whispers.I brush past both of them, head high, like I didn’t just see her hands on him.Even though my ches
GiannaMy body trembles underneath Dmitry, eyes fluttering shut from how drained I am. “You good, baby?” He murmurs, brushing my hair off my face, his cock still pulsing inside of me and I move slightly making him groan.“Mhm” I let out, my voice clearly gone from how much screaming I’ve had all night, but I don’t stop rotating my body on his, giving myself the slow friction I can’t help myself to get. “God, Gia. You keep doing that and we won’t stop anytime soon.” He growls, gripping my hand above my head and for someone who claims to want to stop, his free hand reaches down to my clit, rubbing it in slow motions. I whimper, the sound broken and needy. My hips roll again, chasing the drag of him inside me. He’s still so hard, so thick, filling me completely even after everything we just did. Every slow circle of his thumb on my clit sends sparks shooting up my spine.“Dima…” I breathe, barely a whisper.He leans down, lips brushing my ear. “You’re insatiable tonight, aren’t you?”
Dmitry The fire in her eyes is the last coherent thing I register before my control snaps like a cheap thread. “Do it yourself,” she’d said, voice husky and challenging. Fuck. Me. I rise from the bed in one fluid motion, towering over her. My hand shoots out, fisting the front of her thin robe, with one sharp yank and the fabric rips open with a satisfying tear. The skimpy lingerie she wore for Tamer is still on — black lace barely containing her tits, the crotch already soaked and clinging to her swollen pussy. “Fuck, Gia,” I growl, voice low and rough. I don’t bother disguising it anymore. “You look so fucking gorgeous.” Her breath hitches. “Dima—” I spin her around hard, pressing her front against the tall mirror on the inside of her wardrobe door. The reflection shows everything: her flushed cheeks, wide eyes, the way her body trembles between fear and need. “Look at yourself,” I command, crowding behind her so she can feel my cock straining against my jeans. “I want you
Gianna Dmitry does not hesitate. One second I am standing there, the next I am swept into his arms like he is afraid I will change my mind just from looking at him. His chest is solid beneath my cheek, warm, steady, his heartbeat loud in my ear. “Where are you taking me?” I ask softly, my voice m
Gianna Dmitry stares at me like I’ve just spoken in a language he doesn’t understand, like my words fried his brain or something. I don’t wait for him to recover. I turn and bolt up the stairs, my bare feet slapping against the wood as adrenaline floods my veins. My heart pounds so hard it hurts
Braide“What do you want?” I ask lazily, my eyes fixed on my phone.Dmitry clenches his teeth so hard I hear a faint crack before he steps closer.That must have hurt.“Where’s Gianna?” he grits out, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.So untouchable Orlov finally has a weak point. An
Gianna “Gianna!” Dmitry yells from downstairs, but I am too tired to answer, too drained to care what he wants. Isn’t he supposed to be celebrating with Rhonda? Why is he home so early? And why is he calling my name like I am missing? He has Rhonda to meet his needs. My presence or absence should







