Page 153 of Pietro

I knock lightly and push the door open.

All four men turn toward me. The intensity of their combined attention makes my breath catch.

"Gentlemen," Pietro says, rising from his chair. His voice carries that edge of possession I've come to recognize. "This is Nora. Nora, meet Damiano Feretti, his brother Enzo, and Daniel Hayes."

Damiano stands, extending his hand. "Nora. A pleasure."

His grip is firm but not crushing. Up close, his eyes are intense brown, almost black, and they study me with the same calculating precision Pietro uses.

"Mr. Feretti," I reply, meeting his gaze without flinching.

Enzo nods from his position, not bothering with pleasantries. His brown eyes rake over me once, dismissive, before returning to scan the room.

Daniel simply inclines his head. "Ma'am." His voice is deep, rough.

"We were just finishing," Damiano says, buttoning his suit jacket. "Pietro, we'll be in touch about those arrangements."

"Looking forward to it," Pietro replies.

The three men file out, Daniel holding the door for the Feretti brothers before following them. The moment the door clicks shut, I turn to Pietro.

"Do they have a school in Italy or something?" I ask, unable to help myself. "Some kind of academy where they teach you all to look like that?"

Pietro's eyes narrow. "Like what?"

"Dangerous. Beautiful. Terrifying." I gesture vaguely. "The whole dark Italian mafia thing. It's like you're all cut from the same cloth."

His hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around my throat. Not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to make my pulse jump. He pulls me close, his lips hovering just above mine.

"Are you comparing me to other men, Nora?"

I love when he gets like this.

"What happens if I say yes?" I whisper against his mouth.

His grip tightens slightly. "Kneel."

A smile curves my lips. "You know I enjoy kneeling for you. You'll need to find another punishment."

"I'll find a way not to like it," he says, voice dropping to that dangerous rumble that makes my knees weak.

I know he's lying. I know whatever he has planned, I'll enjoy it just as much as he will. Maybe more.

But I sink to my knees anyway, the carpet soft beneath me. My hands rest on my thighs as I look up at him through my lashes.

His thumb traces my bottom lip, the touch feather-light. Back and forth, learning the shape of my mouth like he hasn't already memorized every inch of me.

"What if someone gets closer to the glass doors?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

The corner of his mouth lifts. Not quite a smile. Something darker.

"Then they'll see how good you gag while sucking my dick."

Heat floods between my legs.

The executive floor is empty this late, but the glass walls of his office face the reception area. Anyone stepping off the elevator would have a perfect view.

Pietro's thumb presses against my lips, demanding entry. I open for him, letting him slide inside. The pad of his thumb presses against my tongue, and I close my lips around it, sucking gently.