Entrapment (Morelli Family 7.5)

His tone low and even, in control, he continues, “What would you do if I told you to suck Adrian’s cock, Mia?”

Holy shit. A breath whooshes out of me and I labor to draw another. “I’d suck Adrian’s cock.”

“Jesus Christ,” Adrian mutters, doing one of his little paces away from us.

But he turns back.

My heart kicks up a beat, because if this is pissing him off, if he doesn’t want to play Mateo’s game, why doesn’t he leave?

Mateo continues, his hand skating down my side. “And if I told you to fuck him?”

“Then I’d fuck Adrian,” I say, noticeably breathless.

I do like unsafe men, and Adrian is indisputably dangerous. He looks it now, fire in his eyes—this is pissing him off and turning him on at the same time.

Mateo’s hands leave me, and I feel the absence immediately. “Go fuck Adrian, Mia.”

I’ll be honest, I was pretty sure this was just a test, but nobody in the room objects for long enough that I get on my knees and crawl forward, away from Mateo and toward Adrian. He’s already off the bed, not like us, but my heart races as I move nearer to him and he doesn’t move away.

Adrian’s eyes rake over my body, still clothed. He doesn’t move.

I stop on my knees, at the edge of the bed. I reach for the bottom of my tank top and tug it off, tossing it on the floor. Since I was prepared to sleep, I’m wearing nothing underneath, and his eyes dart to my tits, hungry—pissed off about it, but hungry.

I climb off the bed and approach him. He doesn’t move. I take that as permission, and I reach my hands out, bracing one on each of his strong, sexy shoulders. I don’t know if he’s going to make me do all the work, or there’s a storm brewing and he’s about to unleash it on me. God, I hope it’s that.

Holding his gaze, I let my hands drift down his chest. My unsteady fingers catch a button, feeding it through the hole as a question flickers through my eyes.

“You can touch me, if you want,” I tell him softly.

A labored breath rushes out of him as he laughs a little. I don’t think he’s really amused, but now he’s backing me up toward the bed. I stop when my legs brush the surface, and he’s towering over me, still sort of glaring, but then his palms cover my tits and a painfully aroused moan slips out of me.

“You want me to fuck you, Mia?” he asks, lowly, almost like it annoys him. Leave it to Adrian to be annoyed with my desires.

Actually, I guess that’s the norm for him.

His rough thumbs circle my nipples, already hard. Then they brush across the pebbled little nubs, and everything between my legs screams, “We’re ready!”

I nod, because words are too hard right now. Too scary.

But I like scary.

Adrian’s hand drops to the button of his pants and he unbuttons and unzips.

Oh, fuck, this is actually going to happen. My heart pounds hard in my chest. I steal a glance at Mateo, suddenly unsure. He told me to do it, but will he be mad if I do?

But he doesn’t look mad. He looks interested.

He’s such a voyeur.

Biting back a smile, I turn my attention back to Adrian, my fingers working to help him unbutton his shirt.

“Take the shorts off,” he commands.

Oh, right. I’m only half naked.

Shoving down my sleep shorts, I step out of them and lower myself to the bed, scooting back. I’m not sure where or how he wants me, so I don’t scoot too far back.

Only he doesn’t join me on the bed.

“On your knees,” he says, nodding to the floor.

I get off the bed and drop to my knees in front of him instead. His pants are still on but his cock is free, so I reach out and wrap my hand around him. His eyes drift shut for a moment, a little murmur of approval. I lick my lips, tearing my gaze from him to look at his cock as I touch him. Leaning in, I tentatively dart my tongue out, dragging it along his length.

“Oh, fuck, Mia,” he murmurs.

Encouraged, I close my lips around his tip, gently sucking on his head. I want to make him feel good. I let my tongue trace the shape of him, play with him, then I take him deeper. I pick up the pace. I’m in no rush, but I know he needs the friction. His big, strong hands are suddenly in my hair, fisting, pulling. I suck him even harder.

“Stop,” he says, yanking me back by my hair.

I gasp a little, looking up at him. The storm’s still there in his eyes, and oh, how I want that storm.

“On the bed,” he commands.